# Chapter 35
At the resolute declaration, Kwon Jeonghoo let out a bitter laugh and nodded. Leaning forward, he reached out and wiped Yeo Dowoon’s lips with his thumb before asking,
“Why not just spare yourself a lifetime of self-loathing? Why rush to tell him and turn his world upside down?”
Sometimes, there are truths no one wants to hear. Jeonghoo’s voice was stern, almost warning.
“Cha Haseong might not even want to know that truth. Getting his memories back won’t change his life… He’s already awakened as a Guide.”
An S-class Guide, no less. Cha Haseong was the only S-class Guide in South Korea—a hope that Team Delta had to secure by any means necessary. Dowoon’s grip on the mug tightened, the ceramic groaning under the pressure.
Crash! The cup shattered, leaving shards embedded in his palm and the back of his hand. Blood trickled down, but Dowoon didn’t bother wiping it away as he replied,
“If I only think about myself, I could rationalize it like that.”
“…”
“I know you care about me, hyung… But I don’t want you to protect me by taking away Haseong’s chance to decide for himself.”
Jeonghoo leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingers hard against his temples. Picking up his blazer from the back of the chair, he stood and muttered, defeated,
“If you ever figure it out, try caring about me a little too, you bastard.”
***
Dowoon practically sprinted home like the final runner in a relay race, panting and disheveled.
He had somehow managed to shower at Jeonghoo’s place, change clothes, and even pick up hangover pills from a nearby pharmacy. But the thought of Cha Haseong already being awake gnawed at him. Sure, as his dedicated Guide, Haseong wouldn’t have gone to the Esper base without him, but leaving a drunk man alone at home still weighed heavily on his conscience.
Beep, beep, beep.
After punching in the passcode and stepping inside, Dowoon spotted Haseong standing by the piano, fingers brushing lightly over the keys. He clenched the pharmacy bag tighter.
Haseong turned his head slowly, his voice as gentle as ever.
“The hospital called. It’s about Yoon Minoh’s Guiding.”
A soft, low note hummed from the piano as he pressed a key.
“As you know… I have to stick to you like glue for a week.”
“…”
“So today, instead of the base, we should go to the hospital together. Do you know how to drive?”
Dowoon realized Haseong was already fully dressed, ready to leave. The pale yellow spring knit he wore made him look as bright as a forsythia flower—so bright that Dowoon felt like the cold winter wind that had trampled and crushed him. His stomach twisted.
Haseong narrowed his eyes slightly, gazing at the marks on Dowoon’s neck, and murmured,
“I figured you went out to burn off some energy…”
His tone held more curiosity than disappointment.
“But it looks like you found someone to roll around with at dawn, Dowoon-ssi.”
Only then did Dowoon snap out of his daze and step fully inside.
Ignoring the earlier insult, he pulled out a few hangover pills from the bag and offered them politely.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d prefer, so I just bought what the pharmacist recommended. They said all of them work fine, so take your pick.”
Haseong’s complexion didn’t look good—Dowoon could tell even from a distance. He fidgeted like he was sitting on pins and needles.
It was only natural after a night of heavy drinking, but seeing Haseong so unusually on edge made his chest tighten uncomfortably.
Haseong, annoyed, finally asked,
“Do you have something to say to me?”
“…Yes, I do.”
Dowoon wasn’t entirely sure if this was the right time, but he didn’t want to delay it any longer.
As Dowoon hesitated, preparing to speak, Haseong plucked a hangover pill from his hand and blinked softly.
“Then don’t say it.”
Dowoon was taken aback.
“What?”
Haseong pressed the cool pill against Dowoon’s flushed cheek and explained slowly,
“If it’s something that’s going to annoy me, I’d rather not hear it.”
But if it were just annoying, Dowoon wouldn’t have been so restless. The chances of it being disgusting and repulsive were hundreds, thousands of times higher.
Dowoon emphasized carefully,
“It’s something you need to know as my Guide.”
“Haa… You don’t have to worry about me missing anything important. I listen well when it’s about me.”
Haseong was sharper than usual today.
Dowoon’s eyes darted around uncertainly, and Haseong, like a patient teacher explaining a difficult math problem, said gently,
“If you think it’s something I need to know, that’s just your opinion. You don’t have to report every little thing.”
His face was devoid of any pretense of kindness or warmth—just the raw, indifferent boredom that was his true self.
Ah, so this is Cha Haseong’s real face.
That expression, devoid of interest or curiosity, carried a power so overwhelming it could crush anyone’s spirit.
“And this is some unsolicited advice.”
Haseong grabbed Dowoon’s shoulder and pulled him toward the entrance. As they walked, pressed close together, he whispered suddenly,
“I don’t know if you’re a top or a bottom, Dowoon-ssi, but use a condom. Always.”
“…”
“Judging by what you get up to… I doubt you think much about that.”
His amber eyes, devoid of warmth, traced Dowoon’s disheveled form—his crumpled shoes, his unkempt appearance. Every word Dowoon had prepared on the run from Jeonghoo’s place evaporated.
Dowoon panicked.
Haseong knelt effortlessly and smoothed out the crumpled back of Dowoon’s shoe, his voice calm as he made a request.
“If you really want to go without, then don’t even think about touching my fingers again. It makes me sick.”
***
“…Where’s Yoon Minoh?”
In the hospital hallway, Shim Woomin, who had been napping on a gray sofa with a cap pulled over his face, flailed his arms as the light suddenly flooded in.
When Dowoon’s words didn’t seem to register, he repeated himself more clearly,
“Yoon Minoh’s recovery room. Where the hell is it? I’ve been looking all over and can’t find it.”
He and Haseong had received directions when they arrived, but no matter how many times he checked the hallway, he couldn’t find a nameplate with Yoon Minoh on it.
Rubbing his eyes to shake off the last of his drowsiness, Woomin sat up slowly, like a turtle. He blinked at Dowoon, who was holding his cap, and answered wearily,
“He’s in the unnamed room. Over there.”
So that’s why I couldn’t find it.
Dowoon accepted his mistake and handed the cap back to Woomin, asking,
“Have you been Guiding him this whole time?”
“Yeah. Haseong-sunbae takes over at 5 PM, so until then, it’s me. …Wait, Haseong isn’t with you?”
Woomin scanned the area anxiously, but Dowoon plucked a stray eyelash from the corner of his eye and corrected him,
“He went to the briefing. We need to know his condition to determine the Guiding scope.”
“Oh, right. That makes sense. Actually, my stats are too low to handle it long-term, but he’s not in that bad a shape. Haseong-sunbae probably won’t even need contact Guiding.”
“…Did you have to do that?”
Woomin burst into laughter and shook his head.
“Nah. He said he didn’t even want to hold hands with a guy, so I just stayed by his side and stepped out for a break.”
“From now on, stay at least a meter away from that bastard when you’re with him. Got it?”
“Hmm… Why?”
Damn it. Even if he won’t hold hands, he can still get hard.
“Just do as I say. Don’t ask for details.”
Woomin agreed with a smirk before Dowoon finally made his way to Yoon Minoh’s recovery room.
But no matter how many times he knocked, there was no answer. Hearing the TV on inside, he took it as permission and pushed the door open.
Honestly, he just wanted to see Minoh’s face—whether he was asleep or passed out—and leave.
“Haa…”
Fuck.
Dowoon froze, his hand still on the doorknob, unable to believe the scene unfolding before him.
