“About Han Jaeheon.”
“…Han Jaeheon?”
Eunseo barely managed to settle the muscles of his face before they could stiffen.
“Yeah. Nothing really happened between you two, right?”
“What do you mean, what kind of—”
“Any kind. …But he’s an alpha, isn’t he.”
You’re a beta. Jin Seunghu left the rest unsaid, but Eunseo could hear the words ringing in his ears all the same.
Eunseo shuddered as if seized by a fit and shook his head frantically.
“N-no, that’s impossible. Like you said, Han Jaeheon is an alpha. No — before that, he’s a man.”
“…Well, right.”
“I don’t really know about alphas and omegas and all that….”
If he was going to speak as a beta, maybe this much was appropriate. Eunseo shook his head vigorously as he denied any relationship with Han Jaeheon. Honestly, there was nothing to deny — because the truth was that there was nothing. The only problem was his own heart.
“If that’s the case… good.”
That was not the face of someone relieved, but Eunseo watched his step under the weight of Jin Seunghu’s coldly sunken expression. Jin Seunghu, who had been emptying his glass without expression, soon propped his arm on the table and cradled his head in his hand. And then all movement ceased.
Ah, he’s completely drunk. Eunseo waved his hand back and forth in front of the half-asleep Jin Seunghu’s eyes, then started gathering up his bag. It was time to take him home.
Jin Seunghu had pulled out his card and paid the bill from the moment they’d started drinking, and Eunseo helped him down the stairs.
Jin Seunghu was far taller and bigger than him, but Eunseo had years of experience tidying up after drinking bouts and moved him with practiced skill. Jin Seunghu’s place wasn’t far, and Eunseo was soon able to dump him onto the bed.
After one sweep of Jin Seunghu’s room — so immaculate it bordered on neurotic — Eunseo left the house at once. His stomach was in knots.
Eunseo did know why Jin Seunghu was asking about Han Jaeheon. And Eunseo knew too that he was cherry-picking only Jin Seunghu’s kindness. And he could more or less guess at Jin Seunghu’s feelings as well.
But the two of them had already passed each other by, and so long as Jin Seunghu didn’t lay his feelings bare, Eunseo saw no reason to turn away from him either. Jin Seunghu was kind — but also endlessly just as timid as Eunseo himself. And that was the problem.
Eunseo’s place was just across one crosswalk from Jin Seunghu’s and a little way inside. Though he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, Eunseo walked slowly, as if drunk, doing nothing but sigh. He lowered his head, raised it, over and over, peering into his own heart once more — but nothing had changed; it was exactly the same.
Why did it have to be Han Jaeheon, of all people. No matter how he turned his memories over, there were far more reasons to hate him than to like him. Why, of all people. Eunseo barely held down the self-loathing surging up inside him, walking with his eyes on nothing but the concrete. Then a familiar figure caught his eye. Han Jaeheon — towering over everyone around him — was recognizable even from this distance.
Still clutching the bag that held the envelope with ten million won, Eunseo could only swallow dryly a few times. He ought to give it back, he wanted to give it back — but the contempt-laden face he’d seen last time frightened him, and Eunseo couldn’t bring himself to take a step.
In the moment’s hesitation, Han Jaeheon was getting a little farther away. Eunseo started after him, heading away from his own home, walking faster and faster. Then, squeezing his eyes shut, he finally grabbed Han Jaeheon’s arm and yanked it.
***
Han Jaeheon’s reaction was slower than usual. Only after his coat was yanked hard did he look down at what had caught his arm, then slowly turn his head to look.
“…Ah, TA?”
The rat bastard he’d been the last time they met was still so vivid in his memory that Eunseo worried he might hear that voice again — but, fortunately or not, Han Jaeheon’s face was quite calm. The male companions he’d left behind stared at the halted Han Jaeheon and called out to him.
“What? Han Jaeheon!”
“Someone you know?”
Fortunately, Han Jaeheon’s companions weren’t the alpha group from that time. Eunseo breathed a sigh of relief, counting that as one more stroke of luck.
“What is it?”
“Ah, well….”
Startled, Eunseo let go of the wrist he’d been gripping. Han Jaeheon brushed the spot with light taps of his fingers as he gazed at Eunseo. Eunseo had feared he’d turn on his heel and walk off, but Han Jaeheon seemed willing to wait for him, at least a little. Honestly, there was only one reason he’d grabbed him, but saying it aloud was embarrassing. Besides, it was the very thing Han Jaeheon had said he never wanted to hear again.
“The condolence money….”
“I told you I don’t want to hear that.”
Han Jaeheon cut him off before he’d even gotten the words out.
“Still, it’s too much. For me to accept….”
“It’s not too much for me.”
Han Jaeheon spun around. He looked about to head back to his waiting companions. Panicking, Eunseo grabbed his arm again and — with no context, just like the reckless version of himself from before — asked him to spare some time.
“Talk with me a little.”
“About what?”
“……..”
“What would I have to talk about with you, TA?”
“…Does there have to be?”
“You had to have a reason, TA.”
“……..”
“Spending time for no reason… that’s what you hate most, TA.”
Under Han Jaeheon’s soft, relentless reproach, Eunseo lowered his head, then raised it again. It was the last time anyway — what did embarrassment matter? It was the first time in his life Eunseo had ever mustered this much courage. He was afraid of being rejected, and even afraid of Han Jaeheon looking at him with those cold eyes once more — but what drove Eunseo all the same was the thought that today really might be the last.
“There’s no reason. Still… just give me a little of your time.”
“…Why?”
“That’s the thing, the reason is….”
“Why is there no reason?”
Cruel Han Jaeheon. Eunseo regretted it, just a little. Gazing with reproachful eyes at the man who was now urging him to dredge up the confession himself — the confession he’d begged him that night not to pretend never happened — Eunseo opened his mouth.
“…Because I… like you, Han Jaeheon-ssi.”
“…Did you see?”
“That doesn’t sound like someone in love at all, but… noted.”
Han Jaeheon’s teasing knew no end. The old saying — you twist your own fate with your own hands — surfaced in Eunseo’s mind, then slipped away.
Han Jaeheon slipped his arm free of Eunseo’s grip once more, went over to his companions and said something, then came back and jerked his chin. What he’d indicated was a small bar in the building’s basement.
Down the dark stairs, an even darker interior revealed itself. It was a thoroughly unfamiliar kind of place to Eunseo, whose regular haunts were all hof pubs — but Han Jaeheon walked in without a thought and settled into a half-open, half-partitioned seat.
“Come over here.”
Mumbling under his breath, Eunseo walked down the dim corridor and sat across from Han Jaeheon.
“You won’t need much in the way of bar snacks, I take it?”
“Right.”
“Then I’ll order as I see fit.”
“Ah, I was going to pay….”
Without even pretending to hear, Han Jaeheon called the server and named a liquor Eunseo barely knew. All Eunseo caught was the request for some fruit as snacks.
Then, silence. Until now, the pattern of their conversations had almost always been Han Jaeheon speaking first and asking questions, with Eunseo in the answering seat. So when Han Jaeheon closed his mouth, silence between them was inevitable.
Gazing at Han Jaeheon’s face — its contours sharp even under the gloomy lighting — Eunseo drank a few sips of ice water and opened his mouth. He was the one who’d asked for the time, after all; the pressure of having to carry it somehow weighed on him.
“Graduation’s not far off now.”
“Yes — thanks to you, TA, I’ll be graduating after all.”
Still, it was a relief that he answered properly. Eunseo breathed out slowly, easing the tension that had stiffened his shoulders and the nape of his neck.
“So after you graduate… you’ll get a job?”
“You’ve got a lot of questions today.”
“Ah… sorry.”
Had that been something he shouldn’t ask? Eunseo apologized hastily and bowed his reddened head in embarrassment. Gauging the right distance with Han Jaeheon was so hard. It felt like he’d been allowed this far, yet the moment he stepped closer, a wall went up as if to refuse him. And when he held back instead, he was scolded for being too distant.
“Nothing to apologize for.”
“……..”
“It’s only that, until now, you’ve never been curious about me, TA.”
Han Jaeheon smiled faintly as he opened the whiskey bottle the server had brought and poured into Eunseo’s glass. The slender straight glass — not a single cube of ice — filled with amber liquid.
“…Whiskey?”
“Yes. I’m paying, so don’t worry.”
“I’m not much good with alcohol….”
“You asked to talk at this hour even though you can’t hold your liquor?”
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