FHO 8

“You said you grabbed the doorknob and turned it? After knocking?”

Two young police officers, who had arrived within ten minutes of the report, questioned Haon. Haon nodded vigorously, still clutching his phone and a pair of kitchen shears.

“I… I turned it this hard…”

He reached into the air, mimicking the slow rotation of the doorknob. As he explained the situation in a trembling voice, repeating that he had turned the knob two or three times, one of the officers, who had been listening in silence, gave a cautious look.

“First, please put those scissors down.”

He had grabbed them because there was nothing else in the house that could be used as a weapon. Following the officer’s instruction, Haon placed the scissors on the sink and stepped back out. His hand, white from the grip he’d maintained, felt numb.

“You said there’s no one who would be coming to visit, right?”

“Yes, yes…”

The officers said they would patrol the area first and contact him if they found anything unusual.

“If you’re really anxious, sleep somewhere else tonight.”

The officer said, rubbing his forehead as he looked at the pale Haon. The other officer, returning from checking the hallway, added that it was dangerous to live alone in a place like this. It seemed he said it after realizing Haon was an Omega.

“If you’re leaving now, we can escort you.”

Haon opened his mouth to speak but soon shook his head. He couldn’t think of anywhere to go immediately. There wasn’t a single person close enough to him to ask for a place to stay for one night.

After seeing the officers off, he returned to the house alone. Even after confirming that no one was in the hallway, his startled heart continued to thumping wildly. His back and forehead had become damp with cold sweat.

The sound of the doorknob turning seemed to linger in his ears. He was so terrified that he thought the door was about to open at any moment. It felt as if his heart were being ripped out from under his feet.

“Ugh…”

Unable to withstand the violent pounding of his heart, Haon rushed to the bathroom and retched. Even as he gripped the toilet and dry-heaved, his bloodshot eyes remained fixed on the front door. He couldn’t relax, fearing the doorknob might turn again.

Who on earth could it have been?

After rinsing his mouth, Haon stumbled back, walking as carefully as possible to avoid making any sound as he climbed into bed. He covered his mouth to prevent any mutterings from escaping and even stifled his breathing. He felt as if someone were still outside the door, listening to every sound he made.

It was already nearing four in the morning. He needed to get at least some sleep to be able to go to work.

“Haa…”

Letting out a small, trembling sigh, he slowly crawled under the covers. Despite having the electric blanket on, a chill still clung to his body. Lying on his side, Haon kept his gaze fixed on the front door. He was far too anxious to close his eyes.

After fidgeting under the covers for a long while, he decided he needed a glass of water and finally got out of bed. As expected, he walked stealthily to avoid making a sound.

While staring at the front door, he momentarily forgot about the water; instead, he grabbed the kitchen shears and his phone and returned to the bed. Thirst hit him belatedly, but he stayed still, not wanting to make any more noise by moving.

Sitting with his back against the wall, he held the scissors so that the sharp blade pointed toward the door. After practicing a few stabbing motions, he held his pillow against his chest like a shield and rested his chin on it. Nothing could ease his tension.

Since sleep seemed impossible, he hoped the sun would just rise quickly. Rolling the silent phone in his hand, he checked the sluggishly passing time. There had been no further contact from the police.

Just then, the sound of footsteps thumping in the hallway reached him.

“……”

Because it was the middle of the night, the presence sounded even louder, and Haon’s heart began to race violently again. It beat so hard it actually throbbed.

Beep, beep, beep—.

Haon couldn’t breathe until he heard the sound of someone pressing the digital lock of another unit. While the other door opened and closed, he remained frozen like a stone, clutching the scissors.

I can’t do this. I have to get out.

He had a feeling that if he tried to endure this until dawn, he would simply faint. Then he wouldn’t be able to go to work. That was the biggest problem.

Belatedly remembering the jjimjilbang (Korean sauna), Haon grabbed a thin zip-up hoodie from the closet. If the jjimjilbang didn’t work, he could at least go to a nearby PC cafe. Why had he only thought of it now?

I should have left with them earlier…

He chewed over his regret, tapping his forehead, which was beaded with cold sweat. Though he stood up as if ready to leave immediately, Haon only paced in front of the bed, staring at the front door.

He didn’t have the courage to go outside alone.

He bit his lip, hitting his frustrated forehead a bit harder. Haon felt more pathetic than ever.

Though he held the scissors, he didn’t actually have the confidence to stab someone. Even if he held a weapon, it would likely just be taken away.

As the silence stretched on, he felt his throat tightening. It felt as if he were having an allergic reaction, making it hard to breathe.

Like someone who had forgotten what they were doing, Haon stood blankly in place, focusing on his breathing. He felt as if he would suffocate and faint if he stayed like this. The thought of remaining alone in this house while unconscious made his lips tremble.

Since moving to Seoul, he had never felt his solitude as vividly as he did now. It was also his first experience of his thoughts becoming paralyzed once fear exceeded its limit.

He desperately missed the reliable village elders and Seong-gu hyung back in the countryside. The more their faces came to mind, the lonelier he felt. In the vast land of Seoul, there was nowhere to seek help. Not a single place.

‘You can contact me when you need help.’

Suddenly, a man’s voice brushed against Haon’s muffled ears. As he recalled the soft voice that had told him he could stay at his house, the strength left his legs.

Haon sank to the floor, fiddling with his phone. Had he been speaking sincerely? Or had he just said it lightly because he was shocked by the state of the old house?

He pressed the power button to check the time. It was far too late to reach out.

Forcing his stiff shoulders to straighten, he took a breath and moved his fingertips. He only intended to check the man’s number. He had absolutely no intention of contacting him at this late hour without any manners or shame.

“……”

As Haon checked his phone, his long eyes gradually widened. His terrified pupils froze, fixed on a text message.

There was a message from the man. It was a text left immediately after the man had called him that morning.

[Contact me as soon as you see this]

Drawn by that message, Haon called the man. He knew the man couldn’t possibly have meant for him to call in the dead of night. Yet, knowing that, his hand moved on its own.

Ring, ring—. As the connection tone continued, his shoulders hunched with anxiety. The thought that he should hang up immediately clashed with the hope that the man would answer. In the end, the latter won.

“Please, just pick up once…”

Even though the man wasn’t in front of him, Haon waited on his knees for his voice to be heard. As the ringing grew longer, his conscience urged him to hang up quickly. What on earth was he trying to do by waking a sleeping man? Even if he asked for help, there was no way the man could come right now.

Beep—.

An automated voice followed, stating that the call could not be connected at this time. Clutching the phone with trembling hands, Haon nodded.

He felt a sense of relief that the man hadn’t answered. At least he hadn’t disturbed the man’s sleep.

How could I be so stupid? Haon self-deprecatingly buried his face in his knees. He cursed himself, wondering what would have happened if the man had actually answered.

Idiot, moron, stupid dog.

He scolded his weak self for a long time. Regret for doing it flooded over him endlessly.

Unable to calm his racing heart, he stood up to drink some water. He had been thirsty for a while, but he hadn’t even thought of looking for water.

Holding a half-empty 2L water bottle, he took a sip of lukewarm water. As he slowly pushed the water down his constricted throat, the sudden vibration of his phone made him spit the water out.

“Ack!”

Coughing, Haon pulled the phone out of his hoodie pocket. He thought it was a call from the police.

However, the call was from someone else. The unsaved number belonged to the man. Since he had been looking at the number just moments ago, it was etched into his mind.

“H-hello?”

Doubting his eyes, he quickly answered before the vibration stopped. Then, a familiar voice came through the phone.

Haon-ssi?

Hearing that low voice, he felt as if his constricted airway had finally opened. It felt strange that he felt relieved just by thinking of him. Despite knowing nothing about the man, Haon was swept over by a peculiar sense of security just by hearing his voice.

Haon-ssi, is something wrong?

The man asked calmly. Fortunately, he didn’t sound like he had just woken up.

“I…”

The moment Haon wiped his wet mouth and began to speak, he heard someone talking to the man on the other end. Since the sound was distant, he couldn’t hear the details.

It’s okay. Go ahead.

“I-I’m sorry… for calling so late.”

After the sound of a door closing, the area where the man was became quiet. It seemed he had moved to a quieter place. Haon’s throat tightened with a mix of apology and gratitude.

Haon-ssi.

The man continued the conversation for the speechless Haon.

Something happened, didn’t it?

Haon nodded as if the man were right in front of him.

Do you need help right now?

Nodding again, Haon hit his own head hard and opened his mouth.

“Yes…”

Where are you?

As the question returned, sounding as if he would come immediately, Haon’s grip on the phone tightened.

“A-at home.”

In his urgency, he answered haltingly.

“I’m at home…”

He repeated it, fearing the man might not have heard. The brief silence as the man paused increased Haon’s anxiety. He glanced at the phone screen to see if the call was still connected. Fortunately, the call time was steadily increasing.

I’ll be there soon.

Continuing the conversation, the man gave an estimated arrival time and told him to wait just a little longer. He spoke reassuringly, saying he could arrive even faster since there wouldn’t be any traffic.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Rubbing his heated eyes, Haon repeated the apology that had become stuck to his lips. Words of apology came before words of gratitude.

Instead of accepting the apology, the man said only one thing.

You did the right thing by calling.