“Then should I take it that you still… have feelings for Han Jaeheon?”
“I don’t think I’m in any position to say this, but…”
“…….”
“Eunseo, choose me.”
“…Sunbae.”
A cool wind swept between them. Jin Seunghu closed the distance, and Eunseo shook his head and stepped back.
“Sunbae, I don’t think this is something to talk about in a place like this.”
“Then where would it be okay to talk about it.”
“…….”
“You always dodge it whenever this topic comes up.”
Jin Seunghu revealed a resentment he couldn’t help. He had kept enduring, knowing Eunseo was afraid of losing him, and whenever a subtle atmosphere flowed between them, he’d tried somehow to smooth it over. But what came back as his reward was the reunion of Han Jaeheon and Shin Eunseo.
“Sunbae, but still, that’s — that’s not it.”
“You keep doing that… the imprint keeps lasting because you keep chewing over your feelings alone.”
“…..”
“Some people meet and marry because they like each other, but plenty don’t. Why do you think matchmaking companies thrive like that.”
Marriage — Eunseo waved even his hands in dismay. It was the first time he’d seen Jin Seunghu press so desperately while leaping in logic, and what he was saying was beyond absurd to the point of being dumbfounding.
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me.”
What nonsense was that. At the sight of Jin Seunghu cornered like that, Eunseo’s eyes stung to the point of tears. What was he, for Jin Seunghu to act like this — choose me even if you don’t like me — what was he.
“Sunbae, I… I really like you, but…”
“…I know — you said you don’t love me.”
“Then why are you saying such things. I…”
“I’m telling you I’m fine with it.”
Jin Seunghu had clearly grown suddenly hasty at Han Jaeheon’s appearance. But Eunseo, all the more dismayed not knowing what had made him hasty, was seized by a shock like being struck on the back of the head. He’d thought Jin Seunghu was waiting for his own feelings to blur — but that wasn’t it. He… while his own feelings stayed exactly as they were, had been waiting only for Eunseo’s feelings for Han Jaeheon to disappear.
That… that couldn’t be allowed. Even if the imprint vanished, Eunseo found it hard to imagine he could like Jin Seunghu the way he liked Han Jaeheon. And now, to be asked to choose him while the imprint was still there.
“Sunbae, I… I think I did wrong. This shouldn’t have happened.”
“Eunseo.”
“I shouldn’t have kept seeing you, Sunbae.”
“I… what if I’m dating you now, Sunbae, and years later my heart still hasn’t changed? Would you really be fine then, Sunbae?”
“I’m telling you I’m really fine.”
“How could that be fine. You’re human — how could a person not grow resentful.” Jin Seunghu closed his mouth. Eunseo bit down hard on his surging emotions, chewing his lips. Otherwise he felt he’d drop tears with a plop.
Jin Seunghu had already endured those feelings for years. When he’d confessed, he’d said he didn’t even know himself since when he’d liked him, and more than three years had already passed since then. And now to endure more — and not just meeting sometimes but carrying on a whole relationship — how could he not want?
“Sunbae, I can’t do that to you. How could I do something so awful to you… how could you say such things to me…”
“Eunseo, that’s not…”
Jin Seunghu couldn’t finish the sentence. Because it wasn’t not that — it was true that he’d thought that once the imprint with Han Jaeheon faded and he was bound to Eunseo by imprint, things would work out somehow.
“I think I did wrong… I leaned on you too much because I was lonely… so.”
“What did you do wrong. No, I…”
“Sunbae, I’m sorry. I think I should have pushed you away.”
“Eunseo.”
Jin Seunghu hurriedly cut Eunseo off, but it was no use. It was Jin Seunghu who had maintained the relationship with Eunseo. Since the confession, Eunseo had never once contacted him first; when Jin Seunghu, unable to bear the thirst, approached, Eunseo had just been so glad he hadn’t known what to do with himself. Like a puppy waiting at home for its owner. What had such a Shin Eunseo done wrong. He’d merely… not returned the love.
“I did something terrible.”
“Just… let’s make it as if it never happened…”
“…You know we can’t do that.”
“Ha…”
Jin Seunghu spat out his regret, covering his face with a large palm. Han Jaeheon’s sudden appearance, Eunseo’s unfaded imprint — he didn’t know about Han Jaeheon, but those two things alone left Jin Seunghu no choice but this wretched decision.
He’d tried to forget. Eunseo’s tear-wet rejection had been so harsh that he’d tried somehow to forget — he’d met other people, and once endured more than half a year without contacting him. But every effort crumbled to dust whenever he met Eunseo.
Eunseo would brighten his eyes in delight, call him Sunbae with those pretty lips and come closer, and draw out his days in that gentle, upright nature in a soft murmur, and Jin Seunghu felt he’d go mad. Then when Jin Seunghu let his anguish show without realizing it, Eunseo would feel sorry, and unable to coldly cast him aside, would blame himself. When he patted his head, Eunseo would lean his head against it like a puppy, and a corner of his heart would burn hot.
“Eunseo, I…”
“…I’m sorry, Sunbae.”
I always end up making Eunseo cry. Jin Seunghu swallowed bitter saliva. Eunseo’s face wasn’t wet, but looking at him — who must have already cried inwardly several times — he only repeated raising and lowering his hand. Now even touching him would probably be hard.
“Sunbae, please… let go of your feelings for me.”
“…….”
“Treat me the same as anyone else. I… will do the same.”
“Eunseo.”
“I should have… done this from the start.”
From the very start, he shouldn’t have taken Jin Seunghu’s kindness on the pretext of his loneliness. He should have coldly cut him off so he could forget him. Even if it hurt him, even if it broke him. Eunseo rubbed his dry eyes and stood up first.
“I’m sorry, Sunbae.”
At the crisp farewell and the polite bow, Jin Seunghu lost his words. Eunseo’s back, turned away coldly, vanished from sight, and for a long while he couldn’t move, his face buried in his own palm.
***
Standing in the plaza of Yeosu Expo Station, Eunseo had been waiting quite a long time. He had to move to the minute-by-minute schedule sent by Han Jaeheon’s secretary, so he’d hurried in the morning too, and because the trains from Osong Station to Yeosu ran at long intervals, he’d taken an early train.
Yesterday afternoon, Han Jaeheon’s secretary had said he’d come pick Eunseo up at the company housing in the morning. When Eunseo asked, just in case, whether Han Jaeheon was coming along, the secretary had answered so casually that yes, he was, and Eunseo — feigning as much composure as he could — had very firmly said it was fine, could they meet at Yeosu Station instead.
The secretary, silent for a moment, fortunately hadn’t pressed twice, and — as if understanding the heart of a mere employee — had said yes, he understood. That much was a comfort to Eunseo.
With his small carrier beside him, just as the warm coffee he’d bought at the station café had cooled to a drinkable temperature and he’d started drinking it, a jet-black car stopped in front of him. Since it was about twenty minutes before the promised time, he was a little puzzled — and then the heavily tinted passenger-side window slid smoothly down.
“Senior Shin Eunseo?”
“Yes.”
“Good morning. I’m Choi Inseong, Executive Director Han Jaeheon’s secretary.” The secretary got out of the car as he greeted him, lifted Eunseo’s carrier into the trunk, then opened the back door.
“I haven’t finished my coffee yet…”
“You may drink it inside.”
He’d said it in case he spilled in the swaying car, and because he wanted even a little time to brace himself — but he was very smoothly ignored. Giving a sidelong glance at the car — whose single leather seat was clearly priced about the same as his annual salary — Eunseo opened the back door.
“Hello.”
“…Hello.”
Han Jaeheon, who’d been reading documents, smiled at Eunseo getting into the car with a face suited to the morning sunlight.
Eunseo, who’d flinched to a stop while getting in, sat in the plush seat, avoiding his gaze. It was such an expensive car that he widened his eyes in surprise at how comfortable the seats were.
“You’ve had a hard time since morning.”
“Not at all.”
“It would’ve been more comfortable if you’d ridden in the car.”
“…Thank you for your consideration.”
The delusions of superiors, really… Eunseo sneered inwardly without realizing it, turning only his head forward. Who liked being in a small, enclosed space with their boss. Unable to sleep, sitting stiffly, on constant standby for when he’d be called.
“Mr. Choi Inseong. How much longer?”
“I think about fifteen more minutes.”
As the car set off, Han Jaeheon snapped shut the document binder he’d been reading and leaned back comfortably against the seatback. Eunseo, sitting with his back straight and staring only ahead, couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting sideways without realizing it.
What perfume did Han Jaeheon even wear? The slightly cool scent, faintly woody, suited Han Jaeheon’s cotton-candy face in contrast, very well. And mixed with pheromones sweet enough to sweep over him, the synergy effect was even greater.
Right now Han Jaeheon had his pheromones perfectly tucked away, so only the perfume scent came through, but even that alone made it impossible for Eunseo to stop the slight lift in his chest. He thought Jaeheon used to wear a perfume with a lingering citrus note… as age and position changed, the perfume changed too, it seemed.
His facial contours stood out starkly in the sunlight coming through the window. Fortunately, Han Jaeheon had his eyes closed.
Eunseo slowly gazed at that backlit profile, then turned his head forward again. And then, unable to hold out, looked sideways again. He’d thought it soft, but seen like this, the ridge of the nose and the curves of the cheeks were quite high and strong. Thinking of how soft the lips beneath them had been, his face heated.
Merely liking someone in your heart and mixing bodies even just once were enormously different. Because the depth of memory and feeling deepened in different vector directions, Eunseo both regretted the night he’d spent with Han Jaeheon and didn’t regret it.
“You’ll bore a hole through me.”
“…Yes?”
Han Jaeheon snapped his eyes open. Around his sunlit pupils there was a faint bluish tinge. Eunseo, who’d been gazing, startled and drew back so far his back hit the car door.
“I don’t mind you looking, though.”
There was no particular displeasure on Han Jaeheon’s face as he sat up a little straighter, but Eunseo cursed his own rashness. Back then they’d been in similar positions so it was one thing, but now there was an enormous gap between Han Jaeheon and him.
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