Song Hanyeong briefly lowered his gaze. A sharp glint flashed through his calm eyes for a moment. Surim thought he saw Song Hanyeong’s pupils vertically slit sharply for an instant. But when he blinked once, ordinary—no, eyes that were quiet and difficult to read as usual—were staring straight at him.
Surim stopped walking to match Song Hanyeong, who had suddenly halted.
Song Hanyeong’s gaze passed Surim’s cheek and descended lower. His gaze swept from the neck to the inside hidden by the shirt collar, reminding him of what had happened in the break room a few days ago. Surim flinched and grabbed his nape protectively, then, thinking he was reacting too sensitively, awkwardly lowered his hand again.
Song Hanyeong, who had been silently watching that scene, bent down and brought his face close to Surim.
“Playing tag isn’t particularly enjoyable.”
Playing tag? What does that mean?
Surim, who had been looking up with a blank face, unable to understand the meaning, blinked and then exclaimed “Ah!” as if something had occurred to him.
“Director Mo must not be meeting with you. I heard you sent me over here without even telling Manager-nim…”
“…That’s right.”
Song Hanyeong wrinkled his nose slightly, then straightened his back again. He had done that at the company cafe last time too, so wrinkling his nose must be a habit.
Having cleared up two misunderstandings at once, Surim smiled broadly as the tension eased.
Song Hanyeong, whose eyes met his, frowned with one eyebrow. The man called Song Hanyeong didn’t have a scary-looking face, yet he had a power that intimidated those who looked at him. Are all handsome people like this? Surim continued to look at the man with a smiling face. For some reason, facing him wasn’t scary or nerve-wracking.
“That’s a relief.”
Rather, he felt like jumping up and down. Fortunately, Surim, who knew how to distinguish between places where he could do that and places where he shouldn’t, suppressed his excited feelings well.
“But do you really not remember?”
“What?”
“That you saved me.”
“I told you, you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“No, I haven’t.”
Surim, intoxicated by his pleasant mood, replied promptly and started walking ahead. Song Hanyeong also slowly followed behind him. A few steps back, Song Hanyeong quietly watched Surim’s lightened footsteps.
That gaze went toward the ankles that kept peeking out from below the hem of his pants, then gradually moved upward. Moving slowly but definitely upward, the gaze paused briefly around the buttocks, then moved to the waist, to the shoulder blades, licking Jin Surim. Until Jin Surim disappeared completely into the room.
When the subject he had been pursuing disappeared, Song Hanyeong stopped abruptly and let out an annoyed, empty laugh—ha, ha. Then, feeling for cigarettes in his chest, he remembered that he would have to go outside to smoke and gave up.
He muttered sarcastically to himself as if chewing on the words.
“You knew it would turn out like this from the start, didn’t you, Nasol.”
Just slightly, but Song Hanyeong honestly admitted that he desired Jin Surim. The smell of blood seeping up from beneath the skin was surprisingly seductive when he smelled it up close, in his real form rather than as a cat.
However, that didn’t mean he was so bewitched by a human who was merely prey that he would willingly become bait himself.
“Still, there’s no way I’d be bewitched by something this trivial.”
Song Hanyeong, who sneered lowly, swept his neatly arranged hair back to dishevel it, then started walking again.
***
He had only gone to the bathroom for a moment, but the atmosphere inside the room was already getting tipsy. As soon as Surim entered, Lee Myeongho raised both hands and called out to him.
“Surim-ssi! Why are you only coming now?”
Lee Myeongho shouted in a drunken voice and held out a new wine glass toward Surim, shaking it as if telling him to take it. As soon as Surim reflexively took the glass, it was filled to the brim with wine.
Pouring wine like it’s beer…
“Here! Drink up, Surim-ssi!”
“…Manager Lee…”
Was this the same person who said he doesn’t force drinks on people? When Surim narrowed his eyes and looked at him, Lee Myeongho arbitrarily clinked his glass against Surim’s, then downed his wine in one shot.
“Ahhh, alcohol really should be red.”
It was a strange taste to see color rather than taste or aroma in alcohol. Surim took only a very small sip of wine with a dubious face. It was at a level where he had barely touched his lips to it before pulling away. Even though wine was a liquid, it was still alcohol, so it was hard to be sure how his body would react. If his stomach got upset again, it would be troublesome, so if his stomach felt even slightly unsettled, he wasn’t going to take another sip.
However, even after waiting for a while, his stomach remained calm. To be able to eat ordinary food without vomiting, how long had it been?
Unaware that Surim was moved by himself, Lee Myeongho suddenly leaned against the bar table and complained.
“Actually, this isn’t what I really want to eat…”
“Then what do you want to eat?”
Surim asked as he took his seat.
“Something really, really dark red and real…”
Lee Myeongho, who had been continuing his words slowly like a model drunk person, suddenly closed his mouth. Soon after, with a thud, Song Hanyeong sat down in the seat next to him. Song Hanyeong slowly tilted his head and rested his chin on his hand, then gestured with his chin at Lee Myeongho as if telling him to continue.
Lee Myeongho, who had turned pale, abruptly straightened up.
“Cherries. I want to eat real cherries that are ripe and dark red!”
“What are real cherries? Are there fake cherries too?”
“…Well, Surim-ssi. Actually, the regular cherries you can eat at the market are fake. Real cherries are on a different level. They’re so delicious.”
But isn’t it going too far to call regular cherries fake cherries? Surim, while giving off a strange feeling, obediently nodded his head.
“I’d like to try them once too.”
“…I’ll buy some for you when they’re in season…”
“Really?”
Surim felt good thinking about eating sweet and sour cherries. How delicious must real cherries be from someone who distinguishes cherries as real cherries and fake cherries because they’re so particular about taste?
“I’m looking forward to it. Real cherries.”
Unaware that Lee Myeongho, who had almost made a fatal slip of the tongue, was trembling next to him while watching Song Hanyeong’s reaction, Surim happily took another sip of wine.
***
Surim got thoroughly drunk. It couldn’t be helped. It had been too long since he had eaten this full. And Lee Myeongho kept refilling his glass, and it was even quite enjoyable.
Of course it was, since his dream first love was sitting in the seat next to him. The fact that he had learned just a few hours ago that his first love didn’t dislike him—when he had thought so until then—also contributed to his feeling of floating on air. Though he did say incomprehensible things like playing tag or whatever, that was about the CEO.
Thinking about it carefully, it was natural to be angry as the person in charge if an unknown person was pushed into one’s research lab. Oh my, Song Hanyeong even has such an excellent sense of responsibility?
Surim, bewitched by the face of Song Hanyeong sitting next to him, repeatedly drank the alcohol being poured into his glass. During that time, his shoulder bumped into the person next to him several times. This would seem like he was deliberately making moves. He shouldn’t cause such a misunderstanding.
When he twisted his body to avoid doing so, the person next to him grabbed his waist and pulled him close. With that movement, Surim swayed and buried his head in the chest of the person next to him.
“Why are you doing that?”
“No, our shoulders keep…”
Surim whined complainingly while nodding off drowsily. It’s not me doing it. You can’t misunderstand strangely. Song Hanyeong patiently listened to the persistent whispers. I’m not misunderstanding.
That was disappointing in its own way. It would be nice if he misunderstood just a little. A low laugh brushed past his ear.
“Then just a little.”
“Thank you.”
“For what.”
But why does he keep switching between formal and informal speech?
“Do you dislike it?”
No. I think it’s kind of sexy. When he mumbled that, he received a scolding that his taste was bizarre. But Song Hanyeong criticizing my taste is insulting himself. Surim giggled.
When he blinked, he was being held by someone. His body swayed slightly with each step that person took.
“Am I being kidnapped…?”
“Should I?”
“No. I have to go home…”
Soon his body was seated somewhere. With a click, his chest felt a bit stuffy. Surim squirmed a few times and gave up.
A hand approaching from the side took away Surim’s bag.
“Thief…”
“I’ll just look at the address and give it back.”
“Robber bastard…”
“Your mouth is rougher than I thought.”
The thief said in an admiring voice. It was an unnecessarily good voice.
“What do you mean unnecessary?”
Am I saying everything out loud now…? This time no answer came back. It must have been his imagination after all. Surim shook his head.
A little later, beeping sounds came and the car started moving. Surim gradually became sadder. It was sad to lose his last remaining family member, and now he was about to lose himself too.
“…Are you crying?”
Surim started sniffling. Cold fingers wiped away tears from his cheek.
“What’s making you so sad?”
There wasn’t just one or two things. Lately, Surim’s life was full of sad things. Various complaints came to mind, but among them, the biggest problem right now was his cold chest. Surim began sharing his worries with the kidnapper.
