By Zephyria 
Pale with shock, Haon stood there not knowing what to do, merely extending his two arms awkwardly toward the man. Even in the thick knit sweater, his arms looked thin, appearing particularly frail today. Even though he was holding a knife in his hand, it seemed as though he posed no threat to the man at all.
“Mr. Haon.”
Haon’s eyes widened further at the sound of his name coming from the man’s lips. The thin capillaries in his eyes had burst, leaving them flushed red. The stress from the man’s sudden behavior rushed over him, causing his face to heat up. Haon’s body, then as now, reacted violently to even the smallest stimuli.
“Isn’t it too dangerous to live here alone?”
I think you’re the most dangerous one right now. Unable to voice his inner thoughts, he simply looked back at the man. For someone who had been shaking the doorknob as if he were about to rip the door off its hinges, he was excessively calm.
“Move houses. As soon as possible.”
His low voice remained composed. The man pulled a phone from his trouser pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and held it out to Haon.
Gulping, Haon glanced at the phone screen. The dial pad was open on the bright screen, as if inviting him to enter a number.
“You can stay at my place until you find another house, so contact me if you’re interested.”
The man let out a laugh that sounded like a sigh, remarking that living with an Alpha was similar whether it was here or at his own home. As he slowly took in the cracked hallway, the man’s expression darkened. It wasn’t as if he had told Haon to live in this place.
Unable to keep up with the abrupt situation, Haon looked back and forth between the man and the phone. When the screen went black, the man moved his long fingertips again to open the dial pad.
“You can also contact me when you need help.”
“…….”
“I won’t ask for anything in return; I’ll just provide help. So, Mr. Haon, just give me your number.”
The man pushed the phone forward, bringing it close enough for Haon’s fingertips to touch the screen. In a daze, as if possessed, Haon ended up typing in his number.
The corners of the man’s mouth curved softly as he pressed the call button. He added a smile with his eyes, telling Haon to save the number once he found his phone.
“I’ll enjoy these.”
The man shook the bottle of water and the energy bar, told him to feel free to reach out, and disappeared. Perhaps because staying in the hallway for too long was uncomfortable, his pace was quick as he left.
Left alone in the shabby hallway, Haon stood there blankly for a long time.
Why did I give him my number? The thought occurred to him belatedly, and he tilted his head while rubbing the back of his neck. Still, strangely, he didn’t regret it.
Of course, he had been startled when the man shook the handle as if he were going to break the door. But he wasn’t afraid. Despite seeing the aggressive behavior of an Alpha—the kind that would normally make him run away without looking back—he had actually worried about him. He wondered why a perfectly sane person would act that way.
After one last gaze toward the end of the hallway, Haon returned to his home, harboring several questions. Fortunately, the doorknob was intact.
Screeeak.
He shook the well-attached door a few times before stepping inside. He took off his worn-out sneakers, which suited the old house, and looked around his familiar room for a moment. Unlike the man’s spacious home, where it had been difficult to even find the entrance, Haon could see his entire home at a single glance without even turning his head.
‘Contact me.’
The man’s voice echoed like a reverberation in Haon’s ears as he leaned his back against the front door.
* * *
The next morning, Haon woke up early and checked the clock frequently. It was to ensure he left in time for the opening preparations of the restaurant where he worked on weekdays. Since he didn’t have his phone, he glanced at a small alarm clock every ten minutes.
Because he woke up much earlier than the alarm he had set, he had a bit of extra time. After finishing in the bathroom, he sat on the bed, shaking his still-damp hair with a towel. The sunken mattress creaked loudly even under Haon’s light weight.
Haon placed the clock on the desk near the bed and briefly thought about today’s tasks. If he hadn’t been fired from his serving job, he intended to visit the shop where he worked on weekends after finishing his closing shift. Of course, he might have been fired… but since he had missed work without notice, he had to go and apologize quickly.
The weekend boss is really scary.
His heart already began to race at the thought of the pub owner, who was known for his foul mouth. The weekend boss, who was in his late thirties, was particularly prone to cursing at Haon. Ever since Haon spilled a water jug on his first day of work, the man had criticized him for the slightest things. There were surely countless insulting texts piling up on his phone.
Having drifted through various short-term part-time jobs and dealt with many different types of people, Haon had developed a certain immunity to verbal abuse. He had steadfastly kept his position even while receiving treatment that would have made any other part-timer quit immediately. He had always been the one fired; he had never quit a job on his own.
Rubbing his lower back, he tore open a new heat pack and attached it above his tailbone. His lower back was still stiff. And the inside was still tingling.
Still, it was much better than yesterday. He was at a point where he could walk properly without waddling.
While stretching and glancing at the clock, he suddenly picked up the black shopping bag he had left under the bed. Inside the stiff paper bag were the clothes he had received from the man yesterday.
He had put them back in the bag because he had only worn them for a short time, and he was afraid he might ruin them by washing them incorrectly. Above all, he couldn’t bring himself to put them in the washing machine because he loved the fragrant scent of the clothes.
Haon took out the soft-textured knit sweater and buried his nose in it to smell it. He felt a pang of regret that the scent seemed fainter than it was last night.
“It looks really expensive….”
Is it really okay for me to just take this? Haon bit his lower lip as he unfolded the neatly folded knit. He had a habit of biting his lips or the tender skin inside his mouth whenever he was lost in thought.
He probably gave it to me because he doesn’t wear it. But who wore it?
Looking at the knit that fit his body perfectly and the pants that were a bit loose around the waist, a useless curiosity arose. Since the size wouldn’t match, it couldn’t have been the man’s. Then who was the owner of these clothes? Since the man said they weren’t new, it seemed he lived with someone else.
Well, there’s no way he lives alone in a house that big.
Haon held the knit against his body and convinced himself, imagining the man’s spacious home. He naturally pictured someone with a similar build to himself sitting in the living room with the man. Whoever it was, he was sincerely envious. To live in such a house with such a man.
Suddenly, the man’s voice telling him he could stay at his place came back to him. Scratching his cluttered ears, he folded the clothes neatly and put them back in the shopping bag. He even placed a dry towel on top of the bag, fearing that dust might collect.
“Let’s find my phone first.”
He wanted to find his phone quickly and save the man’s number. He hoped that his wallet and phone were still inside the locker in the changing room.
“I should properly say thank you.”
Checking the clock again, he finished organizing the things he needed to do in his head. He would thank the man and ask one last time if he could really keep the clothes.
If the man allowed it, he planned to cherish them and wear them on the day he returned to the countryside. On that day, he would dress up as handsomely as possible and bring plenty of delicious food and gifts in both hands. It was a plan that made him smile just by imagining it.
Ah, and he must not forget to decline the man’s offer.
“Ask about the clothes, then decline.”
Haon continued to mutter, tapping his forehead. Since he started living alone, he had talked to himself more. Even when he lived with his hard-of-hearing grandmother, he often asked and answered questions to himself. It was a habit he had developed from a very young age.
“Thank you, ask about clothes, decline help.”
He unfolded his fingers one by one to carve the tasks into his mind so he wouldn’t forget. It might seem like an excessive effort, but it was necessary for Haon. After manifesting as an Omega, besides the sudden drop in physical strength or loss of appetite once a month, another tiring symptom had appeared.
“Thank you, ask about clothes, decline help.”
If he didn’t carve it into his mind this carefully, he would forget it instantly. He had become so forgetful that it was starting to interfere with his daily life.
Perhaps because he felt relieved when he wrote things on a memo, he would forget the very fact that he had made a memo. Therefore, instead of a phone that he often lost, he used his hands—which could not disappear—as a memo tool.
In the beginning, he used to write on his hands, but now he simply unfolded his fingers to memorize the number of things he needed to remember. If he looked at his hands and slowly worked his brain, he could recall everything without a problem.
“Ah.”
Haon, who had been inputting three fingers into his mind, unfolded one more finger. He almost forgot.
“Look for a house.”