Chaegong had to stay seated there for a long time even after Hyeonjo went into his room and closed the door. If he moved even a little, it felt like everyone in the world would sweep over Lee Chaegong and examine him from head to toe. If he heard even a single footstep, he was afraid Hyeonjo might be thinking about him. Afraid he might click his tongue over that embarrassing, pathetic fool. It seemed Chaegong still had some pride left after all.

That night, Chaegong had only just managed to fall asleep when he woke at the sound of a door opening. If it had been any other day, he would have shot up the moment he realized Hyeonjo had come to his room and greeted him warmly, but not today. He was ashamed to show his body.

The only thing shielding him was the blanket pulled over his head. But that soft, cotton barrier soon lost all its strength.

He heard Hyeonjo carefully lift the blanket and click his tongue softly. Chaegong had never realized his own heartbeat could sound so loud. It thudded so fiercely he was afraid it would reach Hyeonjo’s ears and expose the fact that he was only pretending to sleep.

Praying that his eyelids would not tremble, Chaegong breathed out only shallow breaths, when suddenly warmth touched his lips and he shuddered. A gentle ointment moved slowly across his mouth, and then a warm blanket covered his shoulders. Only then did Chaegong remember that his lips had split from the blow earlier.

Hearing Hyeonjo’s footsteps fade away, Chaegong forced himself not to reach out and stop him. He wanted to whine that other places hurt more than his lips, and he wanted to tell Hyeonjo he was sorry for making him worry, though part of him was also glad about that, and that made him want to apologize too.

But in the end, Chaegong could not open his eyes until the door shut. He was embarrassed. Mortified. Ashamed that Lee Chaegong was Kwon Hyeonjo’s disgrace. Ashamed that no matter what he did, he would never become something Hyeonjo could be proud of. So Chaegong spent the night with his eyes open, the blanket pulled over his head.

“Want to go out with me tomorrow?”

A few days later, Hyeonjo, standing by the front door, asked him that. At the unexpected question, Chaegong’s eyes widened. Seeing that, Hyeonjo absentmindedly adjusted his wristwatch and added,

“I need to buy you a new shirt, since you burned the one you were wearing.”

At that, Chaegong almost blurted out an apology by reflex, but he clamped his mouth shut, afraid of being scolded by Hyeonjo. After a brief silence, Chaegong shook his head.

If it had been any other day, he would have asked again and again with an excited face, asking if that was really true. Not expecting him to refuse, Hyeonjo frowned. Chaegong muttered under his breath, silently cursing himself for always becoming the offender.

“I’m not feeling very well…”

Come to think of it, his face was a little pale, so he really did look unwell. Hyeonjo had even thought of buying him something delicious for a change. Glancing at his lips, where the scabs had mostly vanished, Hyeonjo spat out coldly for no reason.

“You live off others at home and still can’t even take care of yourself?”

“…Sorry.”

Looking at his awkward face, Hyeonjo felt as though he were the one making the pleas. And yet he was the one showing mercy to this poor omega.

Certain that this strange feeling was humiliation, Hyeonjo hardened his expression. Then Chaegong hurried to add,

“Anyway, I wouldn’t even be able to choose anything pretty.”

Saying it that far made it impossible to insist they go another time. That voice, almost desperate, left a fairly deep wound on Hyeonjo’s pride. To anyone watching, it would look as if Hyeonjo had been inviting Lee Chaegong because he had no one else to go with.

“I guess so. You need someone who knows what they’re looking at to pick those things.”

Chaegong, who had only begun to learn what was precious and good after coming to Hyeonjo’s house, lowered his head. Watching those dry hands fret over their own fingers as if something were so upsetting, an inexplicable irritation surged up in him.

When no answer came, the conversation ended. Hyeonjo clicked his tongue lightly and opened the front door. The moment the door shut, Chaegong lifted his bowed head.

Maybe I should have just said I’d go.

Regret already crept up from his toes. But Chaegong shook his head as if rebuking himself. He could not make Hyeonjo feel ashamed, or in other words, embarrassed, because of his own greed.

If time passed, could he become at least a little more presentable? But Chaegong knew. No matter how many times he died and came back, he would never be the sort of person who belonged at Kwon Hyeonjo’s side.

No matter how fine the clothes he wore or how expensive the food he ate, no matter if he looked down from the officetel where most people would never even set foot, Lee Chaegong had been born miserable and useless. He was a maggot who had never helped anyone, someone who crawled on the ground, trying to look as pitiful as possible while shedding tears.

Rat. Good-for-nothing. Idiot. A beggar with nothing to his name. Filthy.

Those words he had heard long ago echoed in Chaegong’s mind. They were voices that had already disappeared long ago, and yet in truth, none of them had vanished. They had piled up layer by layer inside his chest.

All the voices he had heard while living his life, voices that could sometimes, when he dipped a foot into them, suck him in like a swamp and drag him down into stillness through the entire dawn.

In the end, it was all his fault. Because he was lacking. Because he could not act properly. It was almost like he had incurred a debt he could never repay to Hyeonjo, who accepted him and let him live here together with him. So he could not afford to throw any more tantrums.

That was what Lee Chaegong thought, having never possessed anything and not even knowing how to be greedy.

That day, too, was like any other. The sky beyond the wide window was blue, and Chaegong bustled about cleaning the house. That was how it was, until someone rang the doorbell.

Startled by the sudden chime, Chaegong, who had been folding laundry, looked up. The short hand on the clock had only just passed one, so it could not have been Hyeonjo, and the food ingredients had been delivered yesterday, so he truly could not think of anyone. Hesitantly, Chaegong opened the front door.

Beyond the sturdy iron door stood a man dressed neatly in a suit. Their eyes met, and the man bowed his head. Chaegong thought he was Hyeonjo. Their faces were that alike.

“Ah, hello.”

Chaegong awkwardly lowered his head. The man who looked very much like Hyeonjo entered the house with practiced ease, looked around the living room, and soon sat down on the sofa.

At first glance, the man seemed identical to Hyeonjo, but on closer inspection, there were quite a few differences. His hair was neatly slicked back, and unlike Hyeonjo, there was a small mole under the left side of his lip. He also had a more impassive impression than Hyeonjo, and above all, Chaegong could not smell any pheromones.

A dominant alpha could restrain his pheromones, but after living with Hyeonjo, who always let a faint scent linger about him, Chaegong found it strange that this man gave off no scent at all.

“Um, and you are…”

He had let the man in because he looked like Hyeonjo, but Chaegong did not know who he was. The man held out a hand and said,

“I’m Kwon Hakjo. That brat Hyeonjo’s twin brother.”

So that was why he looked so much alike. Chaegong blinked as he took the offered hand. At that moment, Hakjo’s face hardened. As Hyeonjo’s lookalike face turned cold, Chaegong’s shoulders shrank on their own. What did I do wrong again? That thought crossed his mind.

“What happened to those injuries?”

“Pardon?”

“Your cheek and wrist.”

Chaegong hurriedly touched his cheek. Sure enough, it was swollen. A glance at his wrist showed bruising. It was from when he had reflexively lifted his arm at Hyeonjo’s touch. A hideous sight that would make anyone frown. Because he rarely met other people, he had not even realized it himself, and only now did Chaegong understand how he looked. Drawing in a breath, he fumbled to cover the injuries with his hands.

“This is, um, nothing serious, so don’t worry about it.”

“…Don’t tell me Kwon Hyeonjo did this?”

Chaegong shook his head in a panic. The way his frightened eyes darted around was, in any case, an answer in itself. Hakjo clenched his jaw. His younger brother had always been unruly, but he had not known he was this bad. The rigid set of Chaegong’s shoulders was painful to see.

After hesitating for a moment, Hakjo slowly reached out and took Chaegong’s hand. The moment that hotter-than-Hyeonjo hand touched his, Chaegong startled and looked up.

“What is your relationship with that guy?”

Chaegong hesitated. A freeloader living off Hyeonjo? A leech? Worthless trash? All of it was true, but it was far too humiliating to say out loud. Mocking himself inwardly for even having pride to begin with, Chaegong said, one day, exactly as Hyeonjo had introduced him.

“…I’m the housekeeper.”

Kwon Hyeonjo’s housekeeper. Chaegong was only a housekeeper.

He slept with Hyeonjo, but he was not his lover. He lived with him, but he was not his friend. The relationship Hyeonjo had given Chaegong was nothing more than housekeeper and employer.

Hakjo fell silent for a long time after hearing Chaegong’s answer. He had wondered what was going on when the housekeeper the main family had assigned was cut off one day without a word, but he had never imagined there was a story like this behind it. Hakjo lowered his head and considered apologizing instead. But unsolicited pity could make the other person uncomfortable. So instead of apologizing, Hakjo handed him a business card.

“If you ever need help, please contact me anytime.”

Chaegong had meant to refuse and say it was fine, but he could not bring himself to turn down someone with a face so much like Hyeonjo’s. The business card he received that way ended up in the first drawer of an empty desk.

Hakjo left the house before Hyeonjo even came back. Just before stepping out the door, he hesitated for a moment and told Chaegong.

“I’ll contact Hyeonjo separately, so please don’t mention that I was here.”

Then he should have contacted him from the start. That thought crossed Chaegong’s mind, but he kept his mouth shut and only nodded. And a few hours later, when Hyeonjo returned, Chaegong thought he understood why Hakjo had said not to say anything.

“I said I understand, so hang up.”

At the icy voice, Chaegong, who had been slicing onions on the cutting board, flinched. Hyeonjo set his phone down and sighed, running a hand through his hair. Chaegong swallowed and spoke in a deliberately casual voice.

“Who was that call from?”

“If I told you, would you know?”

At the irritated tone, Chaegong was glad he was in the kitchen. He apologized and focused again on slicing the onions. Hearing the same apologies he was already sick of on a daily basis, Hyeonjo’s face twisted.

“What are you sorry for? Do you have no pride?”

“…Sorry.”

✿ • ✿ • ✿