“More than I expected…….”
As Do-gyeom’s fingers kept slipping, Gi-hyeon held the bottom of the glass steady. Do-gyeom obediently drank the water Gi-hyeon offered him.
“You really can’t hold your drink at all.”
Gi-hyeon stared at Do-gyeom, whose eyes were already glazing over, with an expression of disbelief. Do-gyeom swung his arm broadly as if to deny it and lifted the wine bottle. Whether the alcohol had gone to his head quickly, Do-gyeom’s eyes looked loose and unfocused. Gi-hyeon quickly intercepted the bottle.
“That’s enough for now.”
“I don’t— want to.”
Gi-hyeon covered his eyes at the sight of Do-gyeom drawing out the end of his words. The neatly folded corners of his eyes were hidden behind his hand, but the smile he couldn’t hide played at his lips. Perhaps because he’d seen so many new sides of Do-gyeom today, he felt considerably closer to him. As Do-gyeom’s breathing quickened, Gi-hyeon hesitated before pressing the back of his hand to Do-gyeom’s cheek. He furrowed his brow at the racing pulse he felt there. What’s the alcohol content of sangria again? Should I go get more ice? Lost in thought, Gi-hyeon felt Do-gyeom rub his cheek against the back of his hand.
“Ah, that’s cool…….”
Heat traveled through the cold back of his hand. Soft skin pressed against rough knuckles. When Do-gyeom smiled brightly with his flushed face, the back of Gi-hyeon’s hand trembled imperceptibly.
“……Are you feeling a little better?”
“Alcohol really is something, isn’t it.”
Watching Do-gyeom smile so openly, Gi-hyeon forced a smile in return. When Gi-hyeon smiled, Do-gyeom’s eyes curved like a crescent moon. Do-gyeom lifted his cheek from the back of Gi-hyeon’s hand and began crumbling a biscuit into pieces. Crumbs scattered messily across his fingertips and the carpet, but Gi-hyeon said nothing to stop him.
“I have something I’m curious about.”
“Mm?”
“Have you ever held someone close, Writer-nim?”
Gi-hyeon spat out the wine he’d been holding in his mouth. The wine that came back up made his nose sting, and dry coughs kept bursting out. He barely managed to compose himself. His voice came out higher than usual.
“No, why are you suddenly asking something like——”
“Just because I was curious.”
Embarrassed to talk about his past relationships, Gi-hyeon scratched the bridge of his nose. He was trying to naturally change the subject, but the serious look on Do-gyeom’s face made him give in completely.
“I have, yes.”
“What does it feel like to hold someone?”
“Well, it’s been so long I can barely remember.”
Do-gyeom seemed unsatisfied with that answer. Gi-hyeon pushed a canapé toward him in an attempt to appease him.
“Why are you suddenly curious about something like that?”
“Just.”
It seemed like he was still thinking about the argument from earlier. Gi-hyeon watched Do-gyeom mumble for a moment, then spoke.
“……Holding someone you’ve longed for endlessly — it’s intoxicating.”
Do-gyeom’s lips parted, and the tip of his red tongue brushed past. Gi-hyeon faltered but gave nothing away, quietly sliding Do-gyeom’s bottle out of reach.
“But a relationship without love is nothing more than a release. Meaningless and hollow.”
It was an offhand but tender thing to say. Do-gyeom gazed at Gi-hyeon with eyes carrying some indescribable emotion.
“So don’t let it get to you. Not one of those posturing men has ever reached the top.”
Gi-hyeon drained the rest of his wine in one go. He looked down at the mess Do-gyeom had made on the floor. Crumbs were scattering all the way from his fingertips to his wrist. Gi-hyeon carefully brushed the crumbs from Do-gyeom’s hand. He dusted away even the finest particles with meticulous touches before letting go of his hand. As he was looking for a wet wipe, his eyes landed on a lip balm.
“Oh, right.”
Do-gyeom tilted his head slightly to the side. It was a lip balm Gi-hyeon had been carrying around because Do-gyeom’s chapped lips kept bothering him. There had been opportunities to give it to him, but for some reason it had always felt difficult to hand over. But now it seemed like he could. Gi-hyeon held the lip balm out to Do-gyeom.
“Your lips bleed sometimes — use this.”
Do-gyeom’s eyes went wide. He seemed to recall the same past moment as Gi-hyeon had. He took the lip balm as though seeing one for the first time and stared at it with unblinking eyes.
“……In my whole life, I’ve never received this kind of kindness before.”
His voice, tinged with the warmth of alcohol, stretched out softly. It was such a small sound that if one hadn’t been paying attention, it could have been mistaken for the sound of the wind. Gi-hyeon leaned in so as not to miss a word.
“Everyone has always treated me carelessly — like a stone just sitting there that anyone could kick for no reason at all. At first I was angry, but at some point a question started nagging at me.”
Despite the harrowing words, Do-gyeom appeared composed. It was the composure that could only belong to someone who had been endlessly worn down and chipped away at.
“Maybe I was actually the one who did something wrong. Maybe I’m the kind of person who deserves to be treated that way. As those experiences piled up, even feeling angry became pointless. And somewhere along the way I had already become that — the kind of person anyone could kick around and humiliate.”
“That’s not true.”
Gi-hyeon murmured painfully. In that moment, he was ashamed of himself for standing before Do-gyeom at all. He could hardly imagine how Do-gyeom must have felt — being subjected to his desire-driven actions and gaze, being used as a means to an end for the portrait. Even his current desire to comfort Do-gyeom felt hypocritical. But he couldn’t stop himself from comforting him. Gi-hyeon added softly,
“No one has any right to treat you that way, Do-gyeom-ssi. Not Gwok Un, not the Butler, not the other servants — no one.”
At the clumsy comfort, Do-gyeom smiled gently.
“You’re a good person, Writer-nim.”
“…….”
“I wish I could be a good person to you as well, Writer-nim.”
“……You haven’t received anything from me, Do-gyeom-ssi.”
“That’s not true — I’ve been given so much.”
Watching Do-gyeom, who forgot not even the smallest kindness, Gi-hyeon felt a dull ache at the pit of his stomach. Do-gyeom scratched near the corner of his eye as if it itched. The edge of the bandage stuck there flapped loose.
“Do-gyeom-ssi, just a moment.”
Gi-hyeon leaned in closer to Do-gyeom. He carefully pressed down on the flapping end of the bandage.
“There.”
He smoothed the bandage down evenly with the flat of his thumbnail. Do-gyeom stared up at him. Their gazes tangled at a distance where breath could be felt. The loose current flowing between them pulled taut. As Do-gyeom’s slowly blinking eyes drifted shut, Gi-hyeon’s throat locked up stiffly. He impulsively reached a hand toward Do-gyeom. The hand that had meant to pull Do-gyeom closer stopped just at the edge of his cheek. Gi-hyeon hesitated, then withdrew his hand without lingering. He tapped Do-gyeom’s forehead lightly with his finger.
“Are you very drunk?”
Gi-hyeon smoothed back Do-gyeom’s disheveled bangs.
“If you’re tired, get some rest here.”
Gi-hyeon rose from his seat and laid out bedding on the sofa. He settled Do-gyeom, whose eyes kept falling shut, onto the sofa.
“I should go…….”
“If you leave now I don’t think those guys will let you be, so sleep here tonight.”
At his words, Do-gyeom obediently pulled the blanket toward himself. He must have been exhausted — he slipped into sleep almost immediately, and Gi-hyeon propped his chin in his hand, watching him. At first I was only drawn to look at him, and I thought of using him for my debut, but how did I end up falling this deep. It must have been your warmth that did this to me. The gentle eyes that always looked out for me, the gratitude you held for even the smallest things, the innocence with which you so readily let someone close — that’s what led me here.
“……Writer-nim.”
I hope you don’t get hurt.
“Thank you.”
You…….
***
Gwok Un returned from Shanghai two weeks later. If things had gone as planned, he should have stayed for about a month, but he had no choice but to return urgently. It was because Gam Eun-hyeong, whom he loved dearly beyond all else, had been placed at the crossroads between life and death. Gi-hyeon kicked with his foot at a liquor bottle rolling around on the floor of Gwok Un’s bedroom. The barrel-round bottle rolled in an unnatural way.
“You’re making good progress — faster than I expected.”
Gwok Un stared at the painting with clouded eyes. After looking at it in silence for a long while, he drew on the hookah. Smoke seeped out from his dry lips like a moan suppressed in the throat. He sucked on the pipe until his cheeks hollowed out like a barmaid at a tavern.
“Good work. You may go.”
He appeared as composed as ever, but Gi-hyeon caught a glimpse of deep despair within him. Behind the thick smoke, despair gaped its maw wide open, yet he looked as though he had given everything up. Gwok Un glanced sideways at Gi-hyeon, who had not left the room despite being dismissed.
“……I heard it was a traffic accident.”
Gwok Un, without answering, took out a new bottle of wine and pulled the cork. The sound of wine dropping into the crystal glass rang out unusually loud.
“In the art world, they say you and he were lovers.”
“Is that what you think too?”
“…….”
“Those people are just as narrow-minded as they’ve always been — that’s exactly why they are the way they are.”
“Were you not?”
Perhaps because of the alcohol, the sharp edges of his eyes had softened somewhat. Gwok Un flicked the crystal glass with his finger.
“It would have been simpler if that were all it was. We were…….”
Whether he was thinking of Gam Eun-hyeong, his drunken face darkened. After ruminating for a long moment, he smoothed the furrow from his brow.
“It’s complicated. To each other we were parent and sibling, lover and colleague, all at once.”
Gwok Un ground his teeth as he turned the words over. His sharp jawline jutted. He poured wine down his throat one cup after another. The emotions held in a face that must have lived a life of smooth sailing on wealth and innate talent looked unexpectedly familiar. Despair, rage, grief — a face weighted down with every manner of negative emotion was still — like a Greek sculpture that had gathered everything within itself, even a sorrow that ripped through the lungs. When Gi-hyeon’s gaze met Gwok Un’s eyes, blackened and scorched by despair, an overwhelming and intense shiver ran through him. Gi-hyeon’s set lips barely parted.
“……He was just beginning to get noticed. He’ll pull through out of sheer resentment alone.”
