Just what was it about Gwok Un that people fell for? Gi-hyeon couldn’t understand what they expected from this rude, promiscuous, self-centered man — what made them throw everything away for him. Gi-hyeon’s face grew as serious as someone staring at an incomprehensible abstract painting. Seeing his expression, Gwok Un tore open the envelope of documents and spoke.
“Why?”
“Nothing.”
“How anticlimactic.”
Once the servants finished setting up, Gwok Un tossed the documents aside without a second thought and reached for a macaron. The man who could shake the very foundations of a nation looked as happy as if the world were his — all over one macaron. Gwok Un was busily bringing one dessert after another to his mouth when he gestured to Gi-hyeon.
“Try some.”
Gi-hyeon scanned the desserts piled with sugar. Rather than the glistening sweets, he reached for a pudding that looked comparatively less sweet. He scooped up a spoonful of the smooth, matte white pudding. The moment it entered his mouth, a slippery, gelatinous texture hit him. Gi-hyeon’s face crumpled mercilessly.
“How do people eat this? It tastes like snail mucus.”
“……”
“If you’ve got money to burn, get me a new easel instead. The one you kept kicking is creaking.”
The cookie in Gwok Un’s hand snapped and crumbled. Wide eyes stared intently at Gi-hyeon.
“Why?”
Their gazes locked, and the lips that had been about to move closed shut. Gwok Un set the cookie down. He cast a desolate look down at his plate.
“You sound just like Eun-hyeong.”
Whenever Gwok Un — who always acted as if he himself were the entire world — made a face like this, it stirred a strange feeling in Gi-hyeon. Uncharacteristically, Gwok Un’s shoulders drooped, and Gi-hyeon clicked his tongue. He scooped up another large spoonful of pudding. The sticky texture still wasn’t to his taste, but he lied without missing a beat.
“The more I eat it, the more I think I might be getting it.”
A kaleidoscope of emotions spread across Gwok Un’s eyes. After a brief silence, he broke into a bright smile.
“Since when did you become so warm? The sun must be rising in the west tomorrow.”
“Must’ve grown a grudging affection, I suppose.”
At Gi-hyeon’s gruff reply, Gwok Un placed a scone on his plate. Gi-hyeon, his cheeks stuffed full of pudding, looked up.
“Do something out of character and you’ll die young — just take it.”
For the first time between them, something genuinely human passed back and forth. Gi-hyeon smiled — relaxed, without tension or guardedness. Just then, someone knocked on the drawing room door.
“Young Master, may I come in?”
“Yes.”
“There’s already more than enough, what more could——”
Gi-hyeon turned his head absently and stopped. Do-gyeom, standing there with a pot in hand, also stopped. As his eyes moved back and forth between Gi-hyeon and Gwok Un, an unreadable emotion flickered across his face. Then, just as quickly, he approached with his usual expressionless face. Do-gyeom poured tea into Gwok Un’s cup with impeccable precision. At the subtle fragrance that drifted through the air, Gwok Un asked.
“Saffron?”
“Yes, the steeping took longer than expected, so I couldn’t bring it on time — I apologize.”
Gi-hyeon watched the stream of tea grow thin and shifted his gaze to Do-gyeom. Do-gyeom not turning to look at him overlapped with some moment from the past. The unease he’d felt at the festival reared its head once more. Gi-hyeon reached out and caught the hem of Do-gyeom’s clothes — the stream of tea broke for a moment, then resumed smoothly. Do-gyeom set the pot down after filling the cup. With his eyes cast downward, it was hard to read any emotion in them.
“Please enjoy your time.”
Gi-hyeon stared intently at the retreating back that refused, in the end, to turn toward him. Sensing the unusual current between Do-gyeom and Gi-hyeon, Gwok Un brought a piece of cake to his mouth. The lips smeared with whipped cream curled into a smirk.
“Passionate. Pitiful as a dog that’s lost its owner.”
“Do you break out in hives if you go even one day without picking a fight?”
His appetite gone, Gi-hyeon set down his fork. Gwok Un, who had been mashing whipped cream into his plate, pointed at the door with his teaspoon.
“Go after him.”
At Gwok Un’s permission, Gi-hyeon shot to his feet as if he’d been waiting for it. The hand that had been reaching for the door without hesitation stopped. He stood before the half-open door, deliberating — then closed it. Gi-hyeon returned to his seat and lifted the plate of macarons from the tray, setting it down in front of Gwok Un. Gwok Un stared at the plate embroidered with vivid flowers. His long fingers circled around its rim. After a moment’s hesitation, a small voice slipped from Gwok Un’s lips.
“Thank you.”
It was words Gi-hyeon had never once imagined could come from Gwok Un. Gi-hyeon’s eyes went wide — and Gwok Un smiled gently.
“Now go.”
With sincerity in his heart, Gi-hyeon smiled back at Gwok Un and hurried out of the room. He felt like the anxiety wouldn’t ease until he saw Do-gyeom right away. As he rushed down the stairs, he traced through Do-gyeom’s schedule in his mind. He said he’d be cleaning the pool at four, so he’s probably there. He broke into a run toward the pool.
Gi-hyeon was able to find Do-gyeom at the pool near the main house. Do-gyeom was already standing there holding a hose — it seemed he’d already finished the cleaning. The moment Gi-hyeon saw him, all his tension dissolved at once. Gi-hyeon perched on the edge of the pool, catching his breath.
“I came to help, but you’re already done. Is there anything left I can do?”
“It’s fine.”
When the tap was turned on, Do-gyeom’s voice blended with the sound of the water and reached him faintly. He’d thought they’d grown close again like before — but Do-gyeom, standing with his back to him, still felt distant. Gi-hyeon grew restless and pressed his fingers into the pool tiles. The ominous thought, once it had taken hold, gradually grew larger. A deeply buried anxiety kept leaking through. He compulsively, obsessively traced the grooves and edges of the tiles.
When no words came from Gi-hyeon, Do-gyeom set down the hose and approached. Warm eyes looked him over carefully. A shadow fell across his vision, but Gi-hyeon didn’t raise his head. Do-gyeom spoke first.
“Didn’t you come because you had something to say?”
“……”
When no answer came, Do-gyeom turned to leave. Gi-hyeon urgently snatched his wrist.
“Do you.”
A voice heavy with anguish seeped into the pool air. Watching Gi-hyeon bring up the subject with such gravity, Do-gyeom’s lips trembled almost imperceptibly.
“Do you still…… have feelings for Gwok Un?”
The unexpected words made Do-gyeom falter. The words that had been about to escape from his half-parted lips retreated back inside.
“I know you loved him for over ten years, and that you might not be able to sort out your feelings right away.”
“……Pardon?”
“I can wait. I’ve been waiting all this time, so I can keep waiting — however long it takes. But even so — your heart is still with me, right? You didn’t just come to me out of…… guilt, did you?”
Gi-hyeon laced his fingers through Do-gyeom’s so he couldn’t pull free. Their fingers locked together without a single gap. He pressed their palms desperately together. Do-gyeom watched the sight quietly for a moment — then burst out laughing. He bent down to meet Gi-hyeon’s eyes.
“Where do I even start……”
Do-gyeom wiped the sweat beading on Gi-hyeon’s forehead. The eyes that were always so strong were now clouded with a shade of sorrow. It was both heartbreaking and endearing. Do-gyeom spoke with tenderness and affection, in the same infinitely gentle voice he had once used with someone else.
“My first impression of you, to be honest, wasn’t great. Staring without a word, saying things however you pleased. I thought you were rude.”
The hands that had been clutching Do-gyeom’s like a lifeline went limp. The hand that was slipping away like grains of sand — Do-gyeom caught it. He continued in a tone filled with certainty.
“But the Jakka-nim I came to observe was someone upright — someone who couldn’t walk past injustice. Someone who had talent and yet worked without end. What I had thought was indulgence was rooted in conviction, and the overflowing confidence was something only a person who had made their own choices in life could possess.”
Gi-hyeon raised his head and looked at Do-gyeom. The eyes that met his held boundless trust in him.
“That’s how I came to understand Jakka-nim. After that, I began to wonder — why he was so kind to me, why he went to such lengths to protect me. Because no one had ever done that for me before. I loved the way Jakka-nim treated me with care and warmth — but now.”
“……”
“I just like Jakka-nim. Not because you’re kind or good to me — it’s just that now, I’ve come to like the person named Kim Gi-hyeon.”
The moment he had waited so long for arrived all at once. Do-gyeom smiled brightly, just as he had at the lake when Gi-hyeon had first fallen for him. The tears that hadn’t come even in the moments he had been scorned and denied by Do-gyeom now welled up. In that moment, Gi-hyeon realized — some kinds of happiness arrive more achingly than any unhappiness.
“My heart belongs entirely to Jakka-nim.”
It felt as though new flesh was growing over a raw, swollen wound. The harsh summer light felt nothing but brilliant.
“This is a problem……”
“Pardon?”
Do-gyeom answered the murmured words Gi-hyeon hadn’t even realized he’d said aloud. Startled, Gi-hyeon looked away.
“It’s nothing.”
Ever since receiving Do-gyeom’s answer, Gi-hyeon had been losing his composure. The burning thirst had once been enough to quench with a single kiss — but now it wasn’t. He could feel his patience wearing away day by day. Each time, he would recall the feeling of Do-gyeom from before. Gi-hyeon rubbed his drawn face against the relentless urge rising in him.
“Jakka-nim.”
The Butler had drawn close — when he had entered, Gi-hyeon couldn’t say. Startled, Gi-hyeon pressed a hand to his jolted heart.
“Oh, yes. What is it?”
“The Young Master is calling for you.”
The Butler’s summons was a welcome one to Gi-hyeon, who had been beset by impure thoughts at the most inconvenient moments. Watching the Butler cross the threshold, Gi-hyeon pulled Do-gyeom’s waist toward him. Their lips met without a sound — and parted. He playfully rubbed their noses together lightly.
“I’ll be back. Should we eat out later? You said yesterday you wanted steak.”
“Sounds good.”
