By Zephyria 
Han Seung-jae slowly turned his head to look down at Seo Yi-kyung. They were the only two in the living room. As if summoning courage, Seo Yi-kyung curled his fingers slightly. His prominent knuckles were red.
“I’ll give this painting to you, Seung-jae.”
Han Seung-jae stared at the canvas in front of him once more. The canvas, with its worn edges, was even slightly damaged. This painting had been in Seo Dong-hu’s possession all along. There was a high probability that he had hidden it just anywhere. He likely had no interest in the painting itself; he would have only pondered how to extort as much money as possible from it.
However, Seo Yi-kyung had no time to consider such things.
“…….”
Seo Yi-kyung closely observed Han Seung-jae’s profile. It was difficult to read his emotions from the expression he wore while gazing at the canvas. His deep, cool eyes betrayed no thought, and his firmly closed lips seemed to be merely observing.
As expected, does he not like it?
Had he not visited the study where Han Seung-jae stayed? It was filled with a collection that couldn’t even be compared to this. They were all expensive and hard to acquire, as rare as they were fascinating.
In the original story, he had seen countless people offering gifts to get on Han Seung-jae’s good side. Would a painting satisfy someone like him? Still, Seo Yi-kyung only hoped that he would accept this one painting.
Seo Yi-kyung added in a more desperate voice.
“I wanted to show it to you sooner……”
If he had, if only he had. Would it have changed anything, even slightly?
Han Seung-jae slowly turned his head to look down at Seo Yi-kyung. A faint dampness clung to the collar of his white dress shirt beneath his dark suit. A slight wound on his white cheek caught the eye. Han Seung-jae’s cold features were reflected clearly in Seo Yi-kyung’s clear eyes.
“Your father mentioned it. That he painted this to give to me.”
Seo Yi-kyung answered immediately without avoiding Han Seung-jae’s gaze.
“That’s right.”
It wasn’t to lend weight to Seo Young-hwan’s words. It was more that he hoped the feelings of the person who painted this would be conveyed. Han Seung-jae’s elegant lips parted smoothly.
“Is that all you have to say?”
Han Seung-jae’s gaze seemed to drift toward the landscape painting, and then he began to walk away.
Seo Yi-kyung could only stand there devastated, watching Han Seung-jae’s receding back. His mind raced, wondering how to interpret Han Seung-jae’s words. Was he saying he would take the painting, that he didn’t like it, or perhaps that he wanted a new one painted?
“E-even if it’s not to your liking, I hope you’ll accept it.”
Seo Yi-kyung reached out with both hands to lift the canvas. At that moment, the cloth that had been covering the landscape painting at his feet became tangled, and Seo Yi-kyung hurriedly grabbed the canvas as one corner tilted. In the process, his knees buckled, and the leg stepping on the cloth slipped.
He was just about to fall flat on his backside. Han Seung-jae’s long hand slid in toward his chest and supported Seo Yi-kyung’s back. Simultaneously, Han Seung-jae’s other hand held the canvas steady so it wouldn’t fall.
“!”
Still clutching the canvas, Seo Yi-kyung looked up. Han Seung-jae’s chest against his back was firm.
“You have no sense of priority.”
While Seo Yi-kyung blinked, his tilted body was straightened in an instant. The suit Seo Yi-kyung was wearing rustled.
“A painting can be repainted, but you shouldn’t get hurt, should you?”
Seo Yi-kyung had been thinking of bracing the canvas with his own body to keep it from hitting the floor. Because if this painting were ruined, it could never be painted again. There was no one left who could paint this.
“No. This painting can’t be painted anymore.”
Answering firmly, Seo Yi-kyung tightened his grip on the canvas. Since Han Seung-jae was holding the opposite corner, Seo Yi-kyung didn’t have to use much strength.
“It sounds like a confession, so it’s pleasant to hear.”
Han Seung-jae lifted the canvas. Consequently, Seo Yi-kyung’s arm was stretched upward.
Han Seung-jae took a step.
“Come here.”
Caught off guard, Seo Yi-kyung moved his legs while still holding the canvas.
The two entered the elevator. Han Seung-jae placed the painting on the floor. It tilted slightly, touching the wall. Seo Yi-kyung carefully released his fingers, fearing the painting might fall and be damaged. However, it seemed fine to keep holding it. They would arrive at the second floor soon.
But no matter how long he waited, the notification of arrival didn’t sound. When Seo Yi-kyung looked up in confusion, Han Seung-jae was looking down at him.
Suddenly, Seo Yi-kyung noticed that the number on the elevator remained the same. Han Seung-jae had entered but hadn’t pressed the button.
“You didn’t press it?”
Thinking he might have forgotten to press the button, Seo Yi-kyung slowly let go of the canvas and reached out his arm. But before he could touch the button, his arm was seized and pulled down helplessly.
“Were you waiting that long to marry me?”
“……?”
Seo Yi-kyung pondered how to take the words he had just heard, or rather, how to answer Han Seung-jae.
“……That is.”
His previous courage vanished, and Seo Yi-kyung’s lips trembled hesitantly.
Han Seung-jae repeated Seo Yi-kyung’s words precisely. As he did, his body leaned forward, pressing Seo Yi-kyung.
“That is?”
He couldn’t readily say no. But to say yes……
Since it was an arranged marriage decided in childhood, he must have waited. And since he liked Han Seung-jae, he probably did. But could the current him say the same?
The look in Han Seung-jae’s eyes changed as he watched the hesitating Seo Yi-kyung. He couldn’t put it into exact words, but Seo Yi-kyung unconsciously swallowed hard. Then, he suddenly realized the meaning behind Han Seung-jae’s gaze.
Seo Yi-kyung barely managed to put strength into his legs to take a step back. A throbbing muscle pain traveled from his calves to his thighs. But he had no capacity to worry about that. All his attention was focused on the Han Seung-jae in front of him.
If he tried to run, he might be slammed onto the floor and stripped bare instantly. The passion reflected in Han Seung-jae’s eyes was that threatening. Even if it weren’t, he could feel it through the pheromones emanating from his body.
Seo Yi-kyung realized that the scent of white wood, which had been leaking slightly from Han Seung-jae’s body, was gradually becoming stronger. It took only a moment for Han Seung-jae’s pheromones to fill the relatively narrow elevator.
“I haven’t heard an answer yet.”
At Han Seung-jae’s words, Seo Yi-kyung barely managed to hold onto his consciousness.
“While releasing…… pheromones like that.”
He wondered if this was truly how someone who wanted an answer would behave. Han Seung-jae released Seo Yi-kyung’s arm and raised his hand. That alone made Seo Yi-kyung’s lips twitch. The fingertips of Han Seung-jae touching his cheek were cold. And the finger rubbing the cheek where the wound remained was gentle.
“Ugh.”
A groan escaped through Seo Yi-kyung’s parted teeth. It was because Han Seung-jae, with an expressionless face, brushed against Seo Yi-kyung’s reddish lips.
“Did you think of me while painting this?”
The finger moving as if tracing his lower lip felt ticklish to Seo Yi-kyung. Because of that, Han Seung-jae’s voice echoed quite tenderly in his ear. However, the finger that pushed into his mouth without hesitation was not. Han Seung-jae asked while kneading Seo Yi-kyung’s tongue with his finger.
“While painting, did you get a hard-on too?”
“No, ugh, ngh!”
As Seo Yi-kyung moved his tongue to answer no, the long finger brushed past it and entered deep into his throat. Eventually, Seo Yi-kyung stepped back, but there was a limit to escaping within the narrow elevator.
When his back hit the dead end, Seo Yi-kyung raised his hands and grabbed Han Seung-jae’s wrist. Soon, he gripped his arm with both hands. Even so, it was useless. Rather, because Han Seung-jae kept rubbing his tongue with his finger, Seo Yi-kyung’s words were crushed, and wet, plosive sounds leaked out instead.
“Th- ah-.”
How could that be possible? Painting required high levels of concentration and physical strength. Therefore, there was no way he would be aroused, nor could he have painted such a warm and cozy landscape with that kind of mindset.
Finally, Seo Yi-kyung clamped his teeth down and bit Han Seung-jae’s finger hard. However, Han Seung-jae, with cold eyes, navigated the inside of Seo Yi-kyung’s mouth before slowly withdrawing his finger. A neat tooth mark was left on Han Seung-jae’s index finger, which was wet and sticky with saliva. Then, a red drop of blood formed.
“Haa. Haa……”
Seo Yi-kyung’s legs gave out, and his body slid down to the floor as if melting. Having collapsed, Seo Yi-kyung wiped the saliva he couldn’t swallow with the back of his hand. The sound of his breath leaking through his rubbed lips was ragged.
Even now, uncontained pheromones were still emanating from Han Seung-jae’s body.
“Please… accept this painting.”
The corners of Seo Yi-kyung’s eyes were reddish. Han Seung-jae looked only at Seo Yi-kyung, as if the canvas didn’t even exist.