When Hee-young turned to look at Tae-seong with a baffled expression, Shin-yul once again caught Hee-young’s chin and turned his face back toward him, smiling. At a distance so close their noses nearly touched, Shin-yul’s golden eyes glimmered beneath his dark lashes.
“I can’t receive Guiding from anyone but my princess. And you came to The Center because you like me too. You never said no.”
I would have said no if I’d known! They told me it wasn’t possible!
When Hee-young had first arrived and immediately demanded to be matched with a female Esper, the staff had told him it was impossible — and so, up until now, the idea of being matched with any other Esper had never even crossed his mind.
Hee-young was now so dumbfounded he felt like he might actually keel over and die. Wait — I thought that to enter The Center, you absolutely had to become the Guide of a matched Esper. If I’d known I could choose, I would’ve asked to be matched with a woman! Hee-young seethed with indignation.
Of course, Hee-young’s situation was a special one. The Center generally prioritized and respected the wishes of Guides above all else — but that didn’t mean there was no element of compulsion.
Ha-ram’s Guiding carried a Wavelength that could care for many Espers at once, making him well-suited to work as a Center Guide — and since there were also multiple Guides capable of handling Tae-seong, The Center respected Ha-ram’s wishes. Shin-yul, on the other hand, was in a situation where he couldn’t receive Guiding from any Guide at all, and Hee-young was his one and only Guide — which left Hee-young with no choice in the matter.
“More importantly, princess. Going off and playing with another Esper while leaving me behind — that’s not very nice. I think I’m a little angry.”
“You’re angry? I’m the one losing my mind! Fuck, put me down right now. I’m going straight to The Center to tell them I want my Dedicated Guide changed — !”
“Hee-young.”
Shin-yul’s voice dropped sharply, going ice-cold in an instant. Cold enough that even Hee-young, who had been heaving with barely contained rage, snapped his mouth shut.
“…….”
“…….”
Silence settled over them. Even the sound of Hee-young’s ragged, uneven breathing — from all the struggling — quieted to nothing, and all that drifted through the air was the distant murmur of voices, the wind, and the soft rustling of grass.
Tae-seong, who had been reading the atmosphere between the two, quietly rose to his feet without making a sound. Whatever his personal feelings about Shin-yul, he knew that what Hee-young had just said would cut deep for any Esper. He silently left behind a word of sympathy for Shin-yul — a situation no less pitiful than his own — and made a swift exit.
As Tae-seong shrank to a speck in the distance, only silence remained between them. Shin-yul, who was always flashing that loose, unhinged grin and spouting ridiculous sweet nothings, was now looking at Hee-young with a blank, expressionless face — and Hee-young felt the fear creeping back up from somewhere deep inside him. That look again. Again. The eyes of a predator watching prey that was slowly trying to crawl away.
He didn’t look away from Shin-yul’s cold, frost-glazed eyes — and in doing so, he caught it, faintly exposed above those sharp pupils: hurt. Unease. It was unmistakably anger — and yet the arms holding Hee-young close only cradled him gently, almost pitifully.
It was only then that Hee-young realized how cruel the words he’d thrown at Shin-yul had truly been. In his agitation, he’d gone and blurted out exactly what he really felt.
Right. What he really felt. In other words — his honest truth. Hee-young genuinely wanted to sever the pair bond with Shin-yul. He understood the tragic circumstances that made Shin-yul unable to survive without him — he understood it fully — but those same tragic circumstances were what bound Hee-young in place, and that made being at Shin-yul’s side feel suffocating and wrong. He worried that Shin-yul would get in the way of him returning to his original body. He was uncomfortable being made to feel a pity he couldn’t quite suppress. Hee-young was not the kind of person who sacrificed something of himself for others. If he’d been that kind of good-hearted person, he never could have lived the life of a thug in the first place.
But coming face-to-face with those wounded eyes, that last remaining scrap of his godforsaken conscience jabbed at him mercilessly. This was exactly why ugly thoughts were meant to stay locked away inside — not spoken aloud. Not in front of someone whose life was literally on the line. Regardless of what his true feelings were.
Ah, why does he have to be the kind that can’t take any other Guide.
Hee-young’s conscience prickled him so sharply that he suddenly, irrationally, started blaming Shin-yul for it. No, it’s fair though. If he’d just been compatible with some other Guide, he wouldn’t be clinging to me like this, and I wouldn’t feel this awful over a single sentence. He tried hard to make excuses for himself, but his mouth had gone completely dry.
Shin-yul, who had been staring steadily at him, let his eyes droop at the corners. His lashes trembled — a faint quiver — and then the gaze that had been locked on Hee-young slowly fell downward. That beautiful face turned desolate. It was the unmistakable expression of someone who was hurt, who was upset.
“If it’s not you, I’ll die…. Do you want me dead? Is being paired with me really that unbearable?”
“Ah, no, that’s not — I didn’t — I….”
At Shin-yul’s wavering, damp voice, Hee-young stumbled over his words, his face a picture of flustered guilt. Seeing him look so thoroughly conscience-stricken, Shin-yul lowered his gaze further and let his expression grow even more forlorn — like tears might spill over at any moment. Looking at that face, Hee-young admitted it. I messed up this time. Those words should never have left his mouth. Not in front of someone whose life was on the line. Whatever his true feelings might be.
“Hey, are you — are you crying? No, a grown man, what — ! No, listen. You know what I’m like. You know my personality is awful. I don’t want you dead, and it’s not that I hate you, it’s just — I got angry at the staff for not explaining any of this to me and I said something stupid. Okay? A fully grown person and you can’t even tell the difference?”
That the staff had failed to explain how Hee-young’s situation differed from other Guides’ was, without question, their fault. Even accounting for how overwhelmed they must have been given how unusual Hee-young’s circumstances were — the confusion Hee-young had just experienced was The Center’s mistake. But the truth that had slipped from his lips, and the wound it had left on Shin-yul — that was entirely Hee-young’s fault.
Hee-young scrambled to pick up the words he’d carelessly spilled and worked to soothe Shin-yul. He knew it looked ridiculous, still cradled carefully in Shin-yul’s arms while trying to comfort the very person holding him — but he didn’t have the mental bandwidth to care about that right now.
Shin-yul, listening to Hee-young’s words, pulled him in tighter and pressed his face into Hee-young’s neck.
“Hee-young…. Don’t leave me….”
“…….”
Hee-young, who had been working hard to calm Shin-yul down, couldn’t find an answer to give him. He could have just said okay — even if it was a lie — and that would have been enough. But the conscience that had been rubbed raw kept him from telling another one. He had a vague sense that silence would only agitate Shin-yul further, make him cling even harder — but this silence was the last small kindness he could offer. Without knowing how much more tangled it would make his own life in return.
Hee-young found it almost funny — himself, of all people, trying to have a conscience. It had always been like this. A thug, of all things, and yet he’d never been able to do anything about that last scrap of conscience — even back in the organization, it would sometimes eat at him badly, and he hated himself for it. He laughed at himself quietly and let out a long exhale. But still, his mouth wouldn’t open. All he could do was awkwardly pat and stroke the back of the large body pressing hard into him.
Shin-yul dropped the act.
The eyes that had been brimming, threatening tears, pulling at Hee-young — they had been dry from the very moment he’d buried his face in Hee-young’s neck. With an expression far more unsettling than anything he’d shown Hee-young, he slowly tightened the arms around Hee-young’s slender body, squeezing harder with every breath.
“Keugh—! Ah—! I can’t — breathe—! You’re going to break my ribs! They’re breaking!”
Even as the grip holding him grew stronger and stronger, Hee-young had been biting his tongue and enduring it, mindful of Shin-yul’s mood — but when the air left his lungs and the pain radiating from his ribcage turned unmistakably serious, he screamed for his life and began smacking at Shin-yul’s forearm. But those arms, solid with muscle, didn’t so much as twitch at any of it.
Fucking hell, is he trying to kill me for not answering? I should’ve just said something!
Drowning in regret and flailing desperately, Hee-young was given one final, crushing squeeze before Shin-yul let him drop.
“Hah—! Hk—!”
I thought I was dying, I really thought I was dying—!
Hee-young was struck all over again by just how strong Shin-yul was — and by just how much the man had been holding back while Hee-young’s frail little body kept picking fights with him. Wow. One wrong move and it’s straight to the afterlife.
The brief brush with death’s doorstep left Hee-young weak in the knees, stumbling slightly. Ah, I really need to get away from this guy…. Even as the thought crossed his mind, the memory of that strength snapped him sharply back to his senses. Fuck. I need to behave. I’ll actually die before I get back to my real self.
Shin-yul, who had been watching Hee-young in silence, called his name in a quiet voice.
“Hee-young.”
“…What.”
Even at being called by name alone without any title or suffix, Hee-young didn’t snap back or take offense — he simply watched Shin-yul carefully. Shin-yul gently took Hee-young’s limp, dangling hand in his. He delicately stroked the small hand held within his own.
Hee-young watched him and clenched his jaw. Is he going to hit me? Fuck — can this body even take it? If I bow my head and beg for forgiveness, will he accept it? As those thoughts ran through his head, Hee-young noticed Shin-yul kneading his hand slowly, intimately. He could feel a thin trickle of Guiding flowing in, and watched as Shin-yul’s expression gradually softened.
In this situation, even if he asks me to Guide him, I’ll just have to do it without a word. Ah, whatever — it’s fine, I’ll just do it. Whatever it took, Hee-young wanted out of this uncomfortable, dangerous situation — and with that thought steeling him, he made up his mind: even out here, even with a man, he would kiss him if that’s what it came to. He squared himself and looked Shin-yul in the eye.
Yeah. I’ll do whatever. So calm down. You’re not the petty type who holds grudges, right?
Seeing Hee-young’s resolute expression, Shin-yul finally smiled — soft and unhurried. His gaze dragged slowly down Hee-young, then back up.
“Want to go to a Dungeon?”
“…….”
No.
