By Zephyria 
“What’s wrong?”
And then, carefully cradling Haon’s face in both hands, he asked.
“My neck is stiff.”
Haon let out a pained groan. He must have strained a muscle from twisting his head this way and that while kissing yesterday.
“What time is it now? What about today’s lecture?”
On Fridays, he only had one morning lecture for his graduation project.
Originally, he was assigned a different professor than Cha Jeong-won, but thanks to an unexpected stroke of luck, Haon’s assigned professor changed, allowing them to attend the same class.
While Haon was whining, Cha Jeong-won checked his phone with one hand and then showed the screen to Haon.
“Look at this.”
“Huh?”
A message from the teaching assistant was visible. Haon read the message aloud.
“This session is for self-directed preparation…”
In short, it meant attendance wouldn’t be taken, so they should prepare on their own.
Haon and Cha Jeong-won quietly exchanged glances. Then, Haon grinned.
As if it were all thanks to him.
And he boldly made a request.
“Give me a neck massage.”
Haon tapped Cha Jeong-won’s hands, which were still cradling his face, urging him.
“First thing in the morning…”
“Does it not hurt just because it’s morning? Hurry up and massage it.”
Despite the earnest request, Cha Jeong-won seemed to have no intention of doing it. Instead, he just stared down intently, once again cupping Haon’s face with both hands.
“What’s wrong with you?”
As Haon urged him, unable to stand it, Cha Jeong-won’s lips parted.
“You look ugly.”
Haon’s lips moved soundlessly. What unbelievable nerve…!
Then, he raised his eyes and glared up at Cha Jeong-won. To tell him he looked ugly—Haon wanted to see just how handsome Cha Jeong-won thought he was.
It’s only natural for your face to be puffy and your hair messy when you wake up. Who does he think he is to…?
“Tch, honestly. Ha. I really…”
Only astonished sighs escaped him; he couldn’t find the words.
Cha Jeong-won, who woke up later than him. Cha Jeong-won, with some of his hair disheveled. Cha Jeong-won, who ate the same food yesterday and slept together.
Yet, Cha Jeong-won was the only one who still looked handsome!
He had no retort.
“If you’re not going to massage it, at least help me sit up.”
He needed to go wash up.
At Haon’s request, Cha Jeong-won readily removed his hands. Then, he supported Haon’s back with his hand. For a moment, Haon secretly gripped the blanket, tickled by the touch of Cha Jeong-won’s hand on his bare skin.
He helped him up.
Leaning against the pushing force on his back, Haon barely managed to sit up with a groan. His whole body felt like it weighed a ton. Even slightly straightening his back made all his muscles protest at once.
Especially the stiffness in his buttocks and the throbbing ache in an unmentionable place.
Still, driven by the urge to wash up, he fidgeted and then met Cha Jeong-won’s eyes.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Despite that, the corners of Cha Jeong-won’s mouth were upturned. Looking at that face smiling at him, Haon wanted to hit himself for still finding him irresistibly handsome.
Having just barely gotten out of bed, Haon headed for the bathroom, realizing how incredible bipedal locomotion was, given the sensations in his stiff back, buttocks, and thighs.
“……”
But what was that dumpling reflected in the mirror?
＊ ＊ ＊
When they finished checking out and stepped out of the hotel’s main entrance, the air felt different.
Unlike indoors, everything seemed ordinary. The sounds of people’s voices, cars, and distant sirens were all part of the original daily life, yet they felt strangely unfamiliar.
A week had already ended.
He confessed, asking to date, on Saturday, and they were together on Sunday.
On Monday, they went to school and even secretly shared a kiss. After that, attending classes and Haon searching for the box made time fly by.
After finding the box, they entered the hotel, and another day passed—it was Friday.
Now, it was time to slowly start saying goodbye.
“I need to pack my things and come out…”
He remembered the suitcase he brought when he barged into Cha Jeong-won’s house.
“Come to think of it, I didn’t even finish the bedside table.”
There hadn’t been time to be solely in the studio, like on weekends.
Cha Jeong-won was silent for a moment before speaking belatedly.
“You know the studio passcode.”
At those words, Haon was startled and reflexively waved both hands.
“Urgh!”
As his body shook, the pain that had barely subsided surged again. Haon swallowed a silent scream.
“Don’t overdo it.”
“Ahaha. I don’t remember. And I’m not asking you to tell me either.”
The box wasn’t in the studio.
Moreover, he didn’t want to use the bedside table as an excuse to drag out the farewell with Cha Jeong-won.
‘It’s already regrettable now. No, I’ll end up unable to let go.’
That wouldn’t do. His relationship with Cha Jeong-won absolutely had to end here.
“You go first.”
“Why?”
Even so, suddenly parting like this felt a bit unpleasant.
At the faint resentment of being left behind and wondering where he was going, Cha Jeong-won spoke honestly.
“If I go in with you, I don’t think I’ll be able to let you leave.”
Startled, Haon subtly put some distance between them.
Cha Jeong-won’s words didn’t sound like a joke; it seemed he really wouldn’t let him leave.
“Then I’ll go first.”
“I’ll walk you to the front.”
“No. I can just take the subway from here.”
Even though they lived in the same building, Haon refused outright.
Cha Jeong-won didn’t insist a second time.
“Alright.”
The tone was dry, as always, yet Haon’s ears kept catching a strange lingering resonance. Useless thoughts arose, like wondering when this person would call him like this again.
Haon shook his head, shaking off the thoughts.
‘This is far enough.’
Haon drew a line for himself.
That person’s fate lay elsewhere anyway.
He had known from the start. To him, he was just a passing Omega.
His mood wasn’t good.
It was also regrettable, but knowing one’s place in someone else’s narrative was helpful for survival in its own way. So, he decided to accept the regret he felt now merely as the expiration of a prize period.
It was a wonderful time, an experience he could never have again.
“Then, I’ll be going.”
Standing by the roadside, Haon initiated the farewell first.
He half-turned his body, about to take a step away, but stole one more glance at his face for no reason.
“Sunbae.”
“Yeah.”
Just yesterday, there were things he wanted to ask him.
If something good happens, will you tell me?
Has your perception of me as the Omega who pushed myself on you changed?
But now, all of that seemed irrelevant.
“While we were dating… thank you.”
Cha Jeong-won looked at him for a moment, then gave a very brief nod.
“Me too.”
That was all.
No additional words were spoken, yet strangely, it felt sufficient. Haon bowed his head once more in farewell and turned around.
Walking a few steps, he felt a gaze fixed on his back and resisted the urge to look back.
If he looked back for no reason and their eyes met, his heart would only waver again. Today, let’s end things cleanly, all the way.
‘I should have asked to date for a year.’
He let his final regret flow out, mixed with a joke.
Cha Jeong-won stood still, watching Haon. He himself could hardly believe that a week-long relationship could feel this short.
Yoon Haon, who had stubbornly insisted that everything connected to him was coincidence, held no ulterior motives, and was never commissioned by anyone, had deliberately pushed forward.
And now, seeing him leave without leaving a single trace of regret made his mouth water.
Next time, he didn’t want to let go like this.
The phone in his hand vibrated once more.
Notifications had been coming in several times since earlier, but he had ignored them. Only after seeing the caller displayed on the screen did his finger pause.
‘Lee Min-jeong, Director of the Cheongun Museum of Art.’
He took a brief breath to steady himself and pressed the call button.
“Yes, this is Cha Jeong-won.”
[Is now a good time to talk?]
“Yes, please go ahead.”
[It’s about the Lee Do-hyun Teacher retrospective. It’s finally been confirmed.]
He silently let out a long breath.
The retrospective for his maternal grandfather had been a topic for quite some time.
His maternal grandfather, painter Lee Do-hyun, was one of the most well-known modern artists in the country.
His works were scattered in pieces, and their holding locations varied, dragging out the process. Due to coordination issues between the museum, the foundation, the family, and private collectors, it was like taking one step forward only to return to the starting point each time.
There had even been talk that it might fall through like this.
[The budget, exhibition period, gallery layout, and insurance conditions have all passed the board meeting. Two overseas holding institutions have also agreed to lend their pieces. Now, all that’s left is for you to prepare. Congratulations.]
While Lee Min-jeong continued her explanation, he listened silently.
“Please compile and send all the materials to me at once.”
[Alright. Ah, and one more thing.]
The director paused briefly, choosing her words, then spoke again.
[This is just my own wishful thinking, but I was wondering if we could also feature your work in one section of the exhibition.]
52 – NOT 52