Before he knew it, Hyeonjo found himself thinking of Chaegong. The image of him always curled up miserably in some corner while he slept kept flickering before his eyes, and a clicking sound escaped his tongue on its own.

In the early days after he brought him home, they had sometimes woken up in the same bed. He couldn’t remember what Chaegong looked like when he was sleeping soundly in his arms. All he remembered was that if he closed his eyes, the faint scent of flowers would drift up from beneath his nose. That was all.

And now he would never be able to smell it again.

As if shaking off the thought that had suddenly surfaced, Hyeonjo shook his head, and his gaze happened to land on the desk. The desk had three drawers, two of them empty. Hyeonjo took out the passbook that had been in the first drawer. He wondered why that bastard, who didn’t have a single coin to his name, had left this behind, and he also thought that maybe he was putting on airs with his pathetic pride.

Before he knew it, Hyeonjo was biting his lip as he put the passbook back into the drawer, then pulled out what was tucked in the back. It was a bundle of paper. In truth, it was hard to even call it a bundle. Just a few thin sheets of paper.

An old movie ticket, a torn amusement park pass, and a few receipts here and there.

Hyeonjo stared at them for a long time. He didn’t know what else to do. These were things he knew too. After all, they were things he had given him.

Maybe he had liked the movie theater, since it was the first one he had ever visited in his life. That face with its mouth hanging open at the sight of the giant screen was still vivid. He had really looked so stupid then. Saying it was his first time there, yet he couldn’t even watch the movie and kept sneaking glances at Hyeonjo instead.

The amusement park had been the same. As the Ferris wheel rose higher, that face that had gone pale gradually blossomed as it met the night view, like a flower in full bloom. It had been quite a sight.

What had he answered when Hyeonjo told him they should come again next time? Had he nodded? Or had he said okay? ……Though after that, Hyeonjo never took him anywhere else.

Kwon Hyeonjo did not like Lee Chaegong. It was only natural. Why would Hyeonjo feel affection for some worthless recessive omega like him? He had only kept him around because he felt sorry for the guy who had nowhere to go and nothing to his name, and because it was kind of endearing how he trailed after him like a little shadow. He knew full well that someday he would have to throw him out with his own hands. There was no way he could be responsible for him for life.

The great Kwon Hyeonjo couldn’t possibly marry some nobody recessive omega like that, could he? Bond with that guy and spend the rest of his life breathing only the faint scent of flowers, taking in a child who looked half like the two of them, the three of them together. Or the four of them. Or else just the two of them until the day they died.

The end of his idle fantasies, ones he had sometimes entertained, was always the same. He would grow tired of the dull floral scent, kick Chaegong out, and laugh as though he felt wonderfully relieved.

But Hyeonjo had never once, not even once, imagined that Lee Chaegong would leave him of his own accord.

The boy who would still grin foolishly with a bruise on his cheek if Hyeonjo only gave him one gentle touch, the bastard who would twist his fingers together in delight, pretending not to be pleased whenever Hyeonjo spoke to him, had vanished so suddenly that he never dreamed it could happen.

Of course, even if he was gone, there wasn’t a single thing Hyeonjo would lose because of it. Hyeonjo could always eat something far tastier than the food he sometimes liked, and if the house needed cleaning, he could just bring in another housekeeper. As for omegas to spend the night with, there were more than enough to trip over.

So then why was Kwon Hyeonjo sitting in this room, putting on such a miserable show?

Why was he unable to leave this place, the most insignificant room among all the rooms he owned, the room where the faint scent of a recessive omega could now barely even be smelled anymore, while holding that old, worthless pamphlet that was no different from trash?

He knew the answer. He simply didn’t want to know it.

His hand, trembling faintly because it couldn’t quite clutch anything nor throw anything away, covered his face.

He had looked away, pretending not to know, and run from it, but even that was over now. Standing at the edge of the cliff, Hyeonjo slowly turned his eyes toward everything that had filled him up from within. The cowardly Kwon Hyeonjo reluctantly pulled them out.

This was a sense of loss and fear. It was what had always been lodged in Lee Chaegong’s eyes. It shimmered whenever he looked at Kwon Hyeonjo, it colored his flushed cheeks, seeped into his faint floral scent, and nestled in his tiny dimple. Affection.

“Fuck…”

Right. It was damn affection. It was similar to the self-satisfied warmth of pity for a stray dog that followed him around, and yet it was still affection. It was like the betrayal of seeing that dog wag its tail at someone else too, and yet it was still affection. In other words, he missed that bastard. To the point that the fact this room was empty frightened him.

Every time he saw the bruise on that pale cheek, his mood soured, and yet his hand would still lift. Even as that body swayed back and forth in his grasp, never once struggling, it felt satisfying.

He was his. Lee Chaegong was Kwon Hyeonjo’s possession. Someone he had saved, fed, put to bed, and loved. Someone he had stroked, hit, kissed, and caressed. He was the one who hurt him, and he was the one who healed him.

It felt like a dog that had only ever looked at its owner and wagged its tail had suddenly followed someone else one day. In truth, it ran a little deeper than that. A little more bitter, and a little angrier. He thought he might know the name of this feeling, and then again, maybe he didn’t.

“……”

Kwon Hyeonjo was good at lying. Just like you did. In truth, so was I.

Three, or four. Or perhaps just the two of them. The future he had imagined all on his own, walking toward it, might already have been decided in that moment. From the time he knew he had to cut Lee Chaegong loose, yet still couldn’t imagine that day truly arriving. From the time he thought that after marrying someone in the distant future, he should give this officetel to Lee Chaegong. That was when it all went wrong.

Hyeonjo thought. It would have been better not to know. Better not to understand. But he had already found out. So he had to take responsibility for it.

The frightened man let out a low breath. His face had gone white, trembling faintly, and his uneasy eyes shook back and forth. His clenched palms were dug into by his nails.

…I think I might like you.

Enough to keep you by my side for three years, even though I tire of things easily. Enough to dream of marrying you instead of Yun Yiseol, even knowing it would be a loss. Enough to push you away first because I was afraid you would drift away someday, while still secretly feeling relieved when you remained by my side. Enough to end up falling apart like this the moment you finally tore yourself away.

If someone asked him whether he only realized it now, Hyeonjo would spit out an excuse like this. That being with Chaegong was certainly comfortable, but it never made his chest feel as though it might melt, nor did it make his whole body curl up with longing.

As far as he knew, love was something like that. Something that made you feel crazy because you liked the other person so much. Hyeonjo was certainly comfortable when he was with Chaegong, but he had never felt like he was going crazy.

But maybe that wasn’t it after all. Walking together in the biting winter, pretending not to know as they held hands. Kissing when they weren’t even going to have sex. Sneaking in at dawn to apply medicine to his wounds. It turned out all of that had been love.

Of course, while he was with Chaegong, Hyeonjo had sometimes noticed something that tickled at his chest. But he had never doubted for a moment that feeling would fade quickly. After all, he had brought him home out of curiosity in the first place. Even if that curiosity had somehow deepened into something a little more, its essence was still only light curiosity.

He didn’t even know that not all love starts out blazing. He didn’t know that most love begins as light curiosity.

If dating meant two people loving each other, then maybe they really had been dating. Even if you never felt like you were loved. Even if you suffered and felt lonely loving me all alone, hiding in the corner of this small room and swallowing your tears by yourself.

This was why I didn’t want to know. Once you know, you understand. And once you understand, your heart breaks. He didn’t want to break anymore.

But he had already found out, and Lee Chaegong was no longer here.
And Kwon Hyeonjo knew nothing. He didn’t know where Lee Chaegong had gone, whether there was anywhere he could go, whether he was eating properly, whether he had enough money, whether he was even alive.

Kwon Hyeonjo, who knew what he shouldn’t and didn’t know what he should, rubbed the corners of his eyes with a hot palm. No tears came. His eyes only stung from the scent of cigarettes clinging to his hand.

He was still good at lying. The moment he opened his mouth, he tasted salt. As if this place were the sea.