At the clear answer, Gwok Un pulled Gi-hyeon’s wrist toward him as if he had been waiting for it. A startled Gi-hyeon tried to pull away, but it was already too late to shake free. Gwok Un pressed Gi-hyeon’s wrist against the car window and tilted his head. A red tongue traced circles around Gi-hyeon’s firmly sealed lips. With every panting breath, the grip around his wrist tightened with force.
“Ugh——!”
At the pain shooting from his wrist, Gi-hyeon contorted his expression and let out a moan. In an instant, that thin tongue pried apart those reluctant lips and pressed into the soft flesh within. Gwok Un tangled his tongue with the stiffened one and exhaled a ragged breath. At the wet sounds, the corners of Gi-hyeon’s eyes reddened too. A smoldering heat began to rise from beneath the waist pressed down beneath him.
Gi-hyeon was at a loss for words as he watched the servants pour into his bedroom first thing in the morning. The servants, who had entered without even knocking, had their arms full of extravagant flowers and boxes stamped with luxury brand logos. Gi-hyeon stared in a daze at the objects packed so densely there was nowhere left to stand. The servants set everything down and lingered reluctantly, circling around the gifts before finally turning to leave.
“What on earth is all this……”
For others it might have been a windfall from the heavens, but for Gi-hyeon it was a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky. Was he still not awake? He rubbed his sleep-heavy eyes. But no matter how hard he rubbed and stared, the gifts remained right where they were. The undeniable reality made it feel as if his breath had been cut off. He hesitated, then climbed out of bed. Even more gifts greeted him than what he had seen from above. Gi-hyeon dragged a hand roughly over his dry face.
He had kept his face buried in his hands for a long while before finally lifting his head. His troubled gaze moved from the boxes stamped with luxury logos to the flowers. The lavishly blooming peonies, roses, and tree peonies all looked as if they had been raised on an excess of nutrients. Gi-hyeon started by pushing the gifts into the corner of the bedroom. Items that were worth at least a car even by rough estimate were shunted off into the back by his indifferent hands, reduced to clutter. Having roughly cleared the gifts aside, he plopped down on the bed. He didn’t want to believe it, but there was no other interpretation.
Gwok Un really does……
These gifts were tantamount to a declaration — stop ignoring me any longer. Gi-hyeon held his head in his hands and turned things over for a long while before getting up from the bed. This wasn’t something that would be resolved by brooding alone.
“……Huu.”
Gi-hyeon pressed his forehead against the wall, hand on the library door handle. He had come down with plenty of resolve, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to turn the handle. A jumble of thoughts kept chasing each other in circles. After agonizing in front of the door for a long while, Gi-hyeon let go of the handle. He muttered to himself.
“Right, let me sort through my thoughts and come back tomorrow. Tomorrow……”
“Where are you going?”
Without a single sound of approach, the door swung open, and Gi-hyeon froze without even managing a scream. Gwok Un smiled languidly at Gi-hyeon, who looked as though he’d seen a ghost. He took hold of Gi-hyeon’s wrist and led him into the library. As if he had anticipated that Gi-hyeon would come down, two teacups and refreshments had already been laid out on the table. Once they were seated, Gwok Un curved his eyes as though he had made up his mind.
“You look like you have a lot to say.”
That sensual smile called the lingering kiss back to mind. Gi-hyeon cleared his throat and cast his gaze downward. Gwok Un leaned lazily back against the chair and watched Gi-hyeon’s reaction. After letting a beat of silence pass, he continued.
“I think I know what you’re going to say, but I suppose I can’t avoid hearing it.”
“…….”
“Go ahead.”
Gi-hyeon lost his nerve at Gwok Un’s bold composure. Could he have been mistaken? Gwok Un took in the shifting colors of Gi-hyeon’s expression with visible amusement. After hesitating for a long while, Gi-hyeon finally opened his mouth.
“Could it be……”
“Could it be?”
“That you…… no, I’ve misspoken.”
“I like you.”
Reading Gi-hyeon’s unfinished question, Gwok Un confirmed it without missing a beat. When Gi-hyeon stared at him in bewilderment, Gwok Un smiled sweetly.
“……Since when?”
Gwok Un stroked his full chin and rolled his eyes in thought.
“Well — by the time I came to my senses, I was already in this state.”
“Isn’t it possible you’re mistaken?”
“Who else but me can define my own feelings?”
“…….”
“When things are hard, I think of you. When I see something beautiful, I think of you. I want to kiss you, and I want to do more than that. Can this be defined by any other word? Then explain it to me — what feeling is it that I have right now.”
“……I’m sorry.”
Gwok Un smiled and lifted his cup. But that quiet smile vanished at Gi-hyeon’s next words.
“For jumping to conclusions, and for turning you down……”
Gwok Un gazed steadily at Gi-hyeon. Rejection had always been within the realm of expectation. It was only natural — there was no visible gap to wedge himself into between Do-gyeom and Gi-hyeon. But actually being rejected by Gi-hyeon to his face — his expression tightened to the point where he could no longer manage it, the corners of his mouth going rigid. Perhaps he had been hoping, just a little…… A self-mocking smile bloomed on that striking face. Gwok Un set down his black tea, which tasted of nothing, and opened his mouth.
“That’s a rather predictable answer.”
“…….”
“But didn’t you say to follow your heart?”
Gi-hyeon’s eyes went wide as Gwok Un’s words registered. He hurriedly retraced his memory. Moments he had let pass without thought surfaced one by one. Watching the dismay spread across Gi-hyeon’s face, Gwok Un smiled languidly.
“You do what you want to do. I’ll do the same. The gifts don’t mean much. Throw them away if you don’t like them.”
“……How am I supposed to throw those away.”
At the sigh-laced words, the corners of Gwok Un’s mouth curved into an arc. He had been leaning back in his chair, but he suddenly straightened and reached out a hand. Slender fingers wandered slowly across the back of Gi-hyeon’s hand. At the cool touch, Gi-hyeon’s hand flinched back. Gwok Un smiled pleasantly.
“Don’t be too kind to me — I’ll start to expect things.”
“…….”
“I hold the leash for both you and Do-gyeom, don’t I?”
A smile still rested on Gwok Un’s lips even as those ugly words spilled out without hesitation. Something unsettling crept and curled from behind those beautifully creased eyes. Gi-hyeon looked into Gwok Un’s eyes without a word. The skin around them was imperceptibly contorted — as though something had gone sideways inside him. The slack atmosphere grew tauter by degrees. But somehow, Gi-hyeon didn’t feel that Gwok Un would actually harm Do-gyeom or himself.
“I know you won’t.”
At the tone of certainty, Gwok Un’s eyes narrowed. Looking at those guileless eyes, he felt a dark desire lifting its head. A low, sinister voice settled across the library.
“And what gives you that confidence?”
Gwok Un smiled with a sharp edge and bared his teeth. Contrary to what Gi-hyeon thought, he wanted to push Do-gyeom into the gutter and then comfort Gi-hyeon with an innocent face. Even now, a handful of underhanded methods that would go undetected came to mind. What on earth made him speak with such conviction? It occurred to Gwok Un suddenly that he wanted to disappoint Gi-hyeon — this Gi-hyeon who acted as though he already knew every one of these hideous thoughts. Just as those long fingernails were being raised against the back of Gi-hyeon’s hand —
“You’re a mystery to me.”
Gi-hyeon sighed and flicked Gwok Un on the forehead with a finger. Shoved back into his chair without any defense, Gwok Un blinked dumbly. Gi-hyeon let out a small laugh at the foolish, uncharacteristic look on his face. Gi-hyeon, having swatted away the sharp menace with nonchalant ease, picked up his teacup.
“Why do you deliberately act so horrible?”
The untouched cup had already gone completely cold. As the tea spread through his mouth, those thick brows gave a twitch. Gi-hyeon set the cup down and wiped his lips.
“I think it’s been steeped too long.”
“…….”
“It’s a bit bitter.”
Gwok Un stared blankly at Gi-hyeon wiping his lips. The destructive impulse had disappeared without a trace. When he was at the peak of his fury, no one — not even his parents — had ever been able to stop Gwok Un. The venom that had always required something to be broken before it could subside — Gi-hyeon had quelled it with ease. Those eyelids, dense with lashes, blinked slowly. As his hazy eyes regained their focus, Gwok Un let out a hollow laugh. He laughed loosely for a long while, then dragged a hand down his dry face.
“……Go have a meal — Do-gyeom will be waiting.”
Gwok Un usually combined meals with meetings, so he was rarely seen at mealtimes. Even on the rare occasions he did eat, he would have something simple in the library — yet somehow he knew the rhythms of Gi-hyeon and Do-gyeom’s daily life. Gi-hyeon startled slightly, and Gwok Un waved a hand dismissively.
“What are you doing — go on, then.”
At the dismissal, Gi-hyeon got to his feet, somewhat awkwardly. He couldn’t tell whether he had handled this entirely unprecedented, brazen confession well. He shook out his tangled thoughts and walked out of the library.
Left alone in the library, Gwok Un gazed at the desserts on the table. The untouched sweets looked like a heart that had been turned away. He was chewing on his thoughts when a small, rueful laugh escaped him. A low voice spilled from those red lips.
“Then again — was there ever a time it was easy to begin with?”
Many people told Gwok Un that everything must come easily to him, but Gwok Un had not once found life easy. Everything he held in his hands felt like sand. Sand that slipped through no matter how desperately he clenched his fist, that scattered the moment he opened his palm. Gwok Un had always maintained a precarious balance, achieving everything through his own strength alone. Suddenly, something the woman who called herself his mother had once said came to mind.
‘Don’t get arrogant. You are nothing.’
The marriage between her — a top actress — and his father, a conglomerate head, was very different from what the public knew. Not long after the ceremony, his father had taken to reeking of powder, and she had started reaching for the bottle. The woman Gwok Un remembered was curled in on herself, watching films she had appeared in. She looked like a madwoman — cackling and wailing each time she watched those reels she had played hundreds of times over. She was drunk as often as not, but in her lucid moments she would lecture young Gwok Un.
‘You have nothing of your own. It all belongs to your impressive father. So you must build your foundation by any means necessary. With only your own strength, take everything you want, and crush those who dare to challenge you……’
He could no longer remember her face, but the words she had left behind remained vivid. Gwok Un had let most of what the mad woman said go in one ear and out the other — but those particular words, he could not let go of. And they had become his creed. He murmured, wearily.
“You were right.”
Those slender fingers traced the rim of Gi-hyeon’s teacup. The ceramic, drained of all warmth, was cold.
“You were right.”
