By Zephyria “Why? Did I do something I shouldn’t have?”
Even as he asked, his tone and expression were calmly subdued.
His gaze held a subtle pressure, implying he would accept no answer other than that it was not something he shouldn’t have done. It was the face of a ruler, one who had already made a decision and possessed the authority to push forward without needing to accept any opposition, a look Choi Hong-seo had never seen in Lee Hae-sung in the past.
Choi Hong-seo put down his spoon and shook his head.
“It’s not that, I just thought they might find it strange.”
His head tilted slightly.
“Find what strange?”
“That the Vice President and I might have some kind of relationship…”
“We actually did have a relationship.”
His posture, with one hand resting on his crossed legs and the other holding the coffee cup on the saucer, was impeccably elegant. Maintaining his beautiful demeanor, he mentioned last night’s sex with a dryness that bordered on indifference. Only when he saw him relax his shoulders and his expression soften a moment later did he realize it was his own small joke.
“Does it bother you? What people think or say?”
While surprised by the unexpected action, Choi Hong-seo also didn’t care about the doubts others might have.
“Yoon H… My past reputation isn’t good. They might spread rumors about me being a sponsor or something.”
“So. Does it bother you? What people think?”
“……”
His gaze and expression conveyed his intent more firmly than words: Forget about other people and rumors, just talk about your own feelings. That’s all that matters. Choi Hong-seo met his gaze and said,
“No.”
Finally hearing the satisfactory answer, he slightly lifted his chin and leaned back loosely against the backrest.
His thumb, tracing the rim of the coffee cup on the saucer, moved gently.
“Just tell people that Lee Hae-sung keeps looking out for me, that it’s almost burdensome. That’s all.”
“……”
“I’ll handle the rest.”
He raised the cup to his lips and looked at Choi Hong-seo, raising his eyebrows.
“Eat the rest.”
As if it were a simple matter. As if he could deal with people’s gazes or rumors more easily than crushing a macaron with his fist.
The past Lee Hae-sung was soft, gentle, and willing to lower himself with playfulness to foster familiarity with others. He was like an ideal chaebol from a movie. In contrast, the current him was like a villainous chaebol.
“Like what I did earlier? In the end, I’m also someone who uses my position to create the situation I want when I need to.”
Just as he had said himself once, the current him seemed fully prepared to use and wield what he had for the situation he desired.
But of course, that didn’t make him a villain to Choi Hong-seo. It just meant the atmosphere had changed.
Throughout the meal, the events of last night resurfaced one by one. Like a genius composer’s hastily scribbled score to capture a sudden inspiration, they muddled Choi Hong-seo’s mind.
From the moment of sex, his consciousness had faded and scattered, barely managing to endure his penetration and panting, but he hadn’t forgotten a single one of the meaningful words he had spoken before that.
What conclusion had he reached? And so, he was telling him not to mind what people said. Was that why he said such things? It was strange that Lee Hae-sung would be willing to bear such sacrifices for ‘Yoon Hye-an’.
He couldn’t taste the savory flavor of the abalone porridge being pushed into his mouth. He could no longer feel the refreshing coolness of the dried pollack soup. His heart was pounding so hard, he merely moved the spoon mechanically and chewed.
It was a tremor born of anticipation and hope, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Not from anxiety or fear.
After the meal, Lee Hae-sung, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, intended to drive Choi Hong-seo home.
Choi Hong-seo, who was about to say that since it wasn’t a long distance, he could just take a taxi, stopped himself. He knew that saying such a thing to someone who had no intention of compromising would only annoy him, contrary to his intent.
He didn’t try to reconfirm anything about what had happened last night. He drove, concentrating solely on the road with a face lost in deep thought.
It was November. The pre-dawn air, beyond being cool, had become chilly. Dawn was arriving slowly. The rain that had poured down overnight had weakened, but it was still falling enough to require the wipers.
The silence was both comforting and unnerving. Choi Hong-seo would occasionally glance at him, and each time, he would look back as if sensing the gaze. Whenever he forced a semblance of a smile, he looked pained.
Instead of dropping him off at the apartment building’s common entrance, Lee Hae-sung drove the car into the underground parking lot. They got out together, took the elevator together, and walked down the hallway together.
“Are you… going in?”
Only at the entrance did Choi Hong-seo finally muster the courage to ask.
With both hands shoved into his pants pockets, he moved close behind Choi Hong-seo, as if urging him to open the door quickly.
“Just to the entrance hall.”
The interior, with the blinds drawn and the door slightly ajar, was dim. Tiffany was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t the type to greet him just because Choi Hong-seo had returned home.
Standing in the narrow entrance hall, they looked at each other. His face, looking down at Choi Hong-seo, was displeased. He clicked his tongue lightly and gently stroked the corner of his eye with his right hand.
“You’re a mess from crying.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have any particular schedule.”
Even to Choi Hong-seo himself, his tone sounded resolute. It felt jarringly out of place in the calm, almost heavy atmosphere. Still, he tried his best to meet his gaze and not look away. He knew he had to leave soon.
Gently touching his swollen eyes, he meticulously examined Choi Hong-seo’s face, and then, finding something in the face looking up at him, he let out a short laugh.
“Say what you need to say.”
“For the next script study… will you come?”
He laughed hollowly, as if to say, ‘Is that all you wanted to say?’
“Do you want me to come?”
Choi Hong-seo nodded emphatically, his sincerity evident.
Lee Hae-sung gazed at Choi Hong-seo’s face silently for a long time. Until the sensor above his head turned off.
In the deepening twilight, his gaze began to shine, and his lips moved.
“Everyone has their own way of speaking.”
“……”
“Not just their way of speaking, but all their actions have a unique ‘flavor’ to them. The way they walk, the expression they make when flustered, the angle their lips turn up when displeased, the degree their jaw tightens when enduring emotion… Each of these subtle characteristics combines to create a person’s unique ‘flavor’ that doesn’t overlap with anyone else’s.”
His voice was huskier than usual, likely due to lack of sleep. Nevertheless, the story he told calmly was pleasant to listen to. Choi Hong-seo listened intently.
“When I lived at my parents’ house, I could tell if it was my father, mother, or an employee just by the sound of their slippers in the hallway.”
He felt he understood. Before moving to the new accommodation Lee Hae-sung had prepared, Choi Hong-seo had a similar experience in his old place. He could distinguish whether it was the manager, Jeong Ji-in, Hyun-su, or the elderly landlady upstairs, just by the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
“You might be able to imitate a few characteristic ways of speaking, expressions, or habits, but to perfectly replicate someone’s unique, subtle ‘flavor’… that’s impossible.”
His voice became extremely cautious for a moment. As if gently scooping precious, clear water from a dense, silent forest with cupped hands.
“For example, the expression you had just now, as if you had something to say, or now… the expression of looking up at me with blind affection…”
At the end of his words, he smiled, barely perceptibly, and lightly pinched and shook Choi Hong-seo’s nose with his index finger and thumb. Then, he bent his upper body forward. It felt as if a giant wall was tilting towards him. With his movement, the orange sensor above his head lit up again. The shadows deepened on his face as he drew closer.
“If you want to see me, then this time, come find me yourself.”
“……”
“Keep your promise.”
“Promise?”
Choi Hong-seo was completely captivated by the cryptic, secret-like words he was weaving. It didn’t matter if he didn’t understand their meaning right away. His eyes sparkled, he swallowed dryly, and lowering his voice considerably to match his, he was drawn into his eloquence, like a child listening to a magical, mysterious fairy adventure.
As he straightened his back again, his face moved away.
“To awaken a princess from a deep enchantment, a decisive performance is needed.”
“……”
“Whether it’s pushing through thorns or climbing a tall castle… even if it means fighting a dragon, you have to show something without giving up on the princess.”
“……”
“That you are the prince.”
He emphasized that part slightly. Perhaps due to the shadow cast by the sensor light, his face looked particularly sad.
Until the sensor light turned off again. They stood facing each other in the darkness, looking up and down. It wasn’t about deciphering his code logically, but rather feeling as if his emotions and thoughts were flowing directly into him through their gazes. Choi Hong-seo forgot even to blink, focusing on him.
You have to show something without giving up on the princess.
Though he didn’t quite understand the meaning yet, he nodded involuntarily. He had the will to show something without giving up on the princess.
Looking down at Choi Hong-seo, who nodded with a determined expression, he smiled painfully again. A large, warm hand reached out and covered his cheek and ear entirely. Just like before.
“So, save me.”
“……”
“The princess will close her eyes and wait.”
His voice was layered over the sound of air flowing within his palm covering his ear. It felt like hearing his call for help while submerged underwater. Instead of sounding distant, it left a deeper resonance.