Unlike what he’d braced himself for, what popped out of that mouth was inconsequential nonsense. Of course, thinking by normal standards, it was slightly on the more vulgar side.
“A honey trap is problematic right now.”
“…What?”
A honey trap, what the hell? Saehyeon blinked his eyes in bewilderment. Following the trajectory of his eyelids closing tightly then opening again, light shadows repeatedly fell. Quietly following that, the man said this:
“It’s too early in the morning. And didn’t Lee Saehyeon-ssi say he absolutely couldn’t do it where the child is, even if he died?”
With this, Saehyeon could be firmly convinced. Gil Taeseo was clearly mentally incompetent. In other words, he wasn’t in his right mind.
If not, there would be no way to interpret this series of conversations as seduction.
“…Forget it. What’s the point of talking more with you?”
Saehyeon got up with a shudder. It was a rough movement that didn’t care even as the chair legs dragged with a loud noise.
He glanced sideways at Gil Taeseo sitting there with eyes that said ‘interesting,’ then let out another deep sigh. Then he turned right around. Sweeping up his disheveled hair, he strode toward the window where the child was waiting.
Half of it was to wrap up a topic that would reveal his memory gaps. The rest was intended to avoid the crazy alpha’s harassment.
“Daddy, done?”
“Yeah. Should we go outside?”
Then the child who had been pretending not to while glancing this way quickly latched onto Saehyeon’s leg. Gently, slowing down as Gil Taeseo had warned several times.
The man who had watched the entire scene leaned forward again. His gaze remained fixed. Looking carefully, Lee Saehyeon’s attitude toward the child was clumsy but had nothing particularly unusual about it.
The child was the same. The attachment was strong and blind enough to agree to anything if persuaded using daddy as an excuse. But that was all. Considering Lee Saehyeon’s physical condition, it wasn’t strange for a child with excellent brains and perceptiveness to act that way.
‘Definitely, there’s something fishy.’
Since their reunion, Gil Taeseo had felt some strange sensation from Lee Saehyeon. It wasn’t severe enough to make him want to carve it out and examine it right away.
But whenever he was about to forget it, it would raise its head and annoyingly act up. Like a small ant had burrowed under his skin and was gnawing away.
He couldn’t just leave it alone, but he also couldn’t recklessly open it up to check. He had no intention whatsoever of waking from the sweet dream he was enjoying well.
The stupid act of just watching with hands spread wide open without any intention of grasping—he’d already done that at age twenty. Squeezing recklessly was something he’d given up a few months ago.
The man was now learning the touch limited to one person. If he didn’t slowly narrow the siege with appropriate strength and degree, Lee Saehyeon would easily break down. So he had no choice but to gauge and be careful every time. Just how far he’d wrapped his hands around.
It was probably nothing much. Gil Taeseo once again propped his chin and began watching the two playing on the yellow dead grass field. Unlike his fixed gaze, his fingertips gradually became busier. Tap tap, tap.
Meanwhile, Saehyeon kicked the ball hard while mulling over the close call from just before. He still had the illusion that a persistent gaze was poking at various parts of his body.
‘Fuck… that was almost a disaster.’
It was fortunate he’d somehow exquisitely avoided it. There might not be a next time, so he needed to keep his wits about him. Saehyeon repeatedly reminded himself:
‘Gil Taeseo is not in his right mind, and I’m also a fool whose head isn’t intact.’
If he just didn’t forget this, he’d get halfway there. The problem was that he kept forgetting. He suspected this damn amnesia was still coming in bits and pieces.
“Daddy! Again!”
The child who had pushed through the dry grass and jumped out bounced up and down in place. Between the disheveled, fluffy hair messed up by the wind, dry grass blades were occasionally stuck. It looked like a puppy retriever going through an energetic phase.
Saehyeon, who had stepped back a few paces, kicked the ball hard once more. The small figure sprinting at full speed following the ball quickly became distant. It was an unusual speed for such short legs.
Taking a breather, Saehyeon wiped the sweat on his forehead while seeking a breakthrough. After repeatedly reminding himself several times of ‘Gil Taeseo’s sanity ran away’ and ‘I’m a fool whose memory ran away,’ the conclusion he reached was this:
‘I should find something to do.’
It seemed all of this was because his body was comfortable. In reality, Saehyeon was living the most carefree and lazy life since he was born.
When young, he’d studied to death due to his father’s expectations and mother’s urging, and after growing up, to find his own way to survive. Even after becoming a college student, he’d worked his bones off for grade management, and in the midst of that, he’d suddenly become 28. At that time, he’d had no choice but to work his body to solve immediate living expenses and medication costs.
Working, coming home and sleeping like passing out, then washing the child, feeding them, putting them to sleep… when mechanically repeating this series of processes, idle thoughts couldn’t continue for long.
But now?
‘A bum bastard who’s a top candidate for the hell of sloth.’
Delicious meals came out regularly, and there was no need to worry about medication costs.
If he could count any ordeal, it would be occasionally being persistently tormented by Gil Taeseo. But that was as essential as work, and in fact… it was an act closer to ‘stimulation’ than ‘work.’
Saehyeon wasn’t unaware that his body was becoming increasingly sensitive as time went on. He just desperately wanted to pretend not to know.
Anyway, there was no way a person could be normal just repeatedly doing primitive things like eating, sleeping, and shitting. He needed to advance into harsh society again soon, but he was too complacent.
“Right. Living like this makes you a beast, not a human.”
Before, it couldn’t be helped because his body wasn’t good and he had to earn living expenses, but not now. He had to do something quickly at this time.
Anyway, the goal Saehyeon could adopt was already decided. The most powerful means that twenty-year-old Saehyeon could think of. Namely, money and academic credentials.
‘…Readmission? What are the readmission criteria?’
This train of thought was the trigger for Saehyeon to think about readmission to Hanguk University.
As expected, what makes people live are goals and desires. Just taking out the life goal he’d postponed during the past time and shaking off the dust seemed to change his mindset.
Saehyeon eagerly waited for the time when he’d return home and be alone.
“I’m telling you to come live here. Why the hell are you saying you’ll go home again?”
“Yes. Please fuck off to the company quickly.”
It was a bonus that he could lightly brush off Gil Taeseo’s other nonsense as he belatedly left for work.
After returning to his cramped, leaky, and old but comfortable home and putting the child to sleep. Saehyeon picked up his phone with a small notebook beside him.
“Let’s see…”
From the moment he accessed the internet, his mouth went dry. He’d looked at books while working at the convenience store, but thinking about it now, that was just clumsy pretense. The proof was that he’d tried to grasp the changed college entrance exam trends without even looking up readmission requirements.
Even that was only lightly flipping through problem books that a third-time exam retaker was supposedly giving up studying and giving away for free. It happened because he was too anxious to do nothing, and didn’t have the leisure to do it properly.
Still, he roughly knew what it was. As a freshman, he’d heard stories about people among the upperclassmen who had readmitted. He vaguely recalled they’d returned with their student number, credits, and grades all restored.
It was a very appealing system. If only it were possible.
***
“Fuck, not answering the phone, what the hell…”
Gil Taeseo, who had opened the door and stepped inside, hesitated. It had started with Yoon Changwook, whom he’d kept nearby, reporting that Lee Saehyeon’s condition was strange today.
On the way home, and all the way up, he’d made calls but not a single one connected. Originally, it wasn’t like Saehyeon answered Gil Taeseo’s calls well anyway.
But even if he didn’t want to, he’d press the reject button rather than leave it as a missed call. If only because the constantly ringing phone was noisy.
‘No way.’
Even while thinking it wouldn’t be the case, anxiety crept up his instep. The moment he entered the house while having the strange thought that he should have locked him up after all.
Gil Taeseo discovered Saehyeon lying on the floor. Not on the sofa or in the bedroom, but lying face down in attention position on the living room rug.
“Hey, Lee Saehyeon.”
Just in case, he approached closely, but he hadn’t passed out. His breathing and presence were clearly those of a person who was awake. Gil Taeseo, who had roughly tossed his phone aside, lowered his body and sat down. Then he could hear the sounds Saehyeon was making better. It was the sound of rough, heavy breathing.
For it to be simply because he was pissed off, or his mood was just bad when nothing had happened…
In the end, Gil Taeseo put his hand under Saehyeon’s body and flipped him over.
