Eunseo just closed his eyes. The feeling of the small cat growing cold was still vivid. That tiny cat, barely breathing as if begging to be saved, nestled into him — Eunseo didn’t want to die like that. He didn’t want to die trapped in this place.
“…What about a child?”
“A child?”
“Do you… want a child?”
“Hmm… having a lot of kids would just cause inheritance disputes. I think our generation will get by without much trouble, but who knows about the next.”
“…….”
“One wouldn’t be so bad… Why, do you want to have a baby?”
“Ah, no….”
Jaeheon looked down at Eunseo silently, then gently rubbed his belly — far too flat to suggest anything was there.
“Honestly, I don’t really want kids….”
“…….”
“A kid who looked like you, Senior — one of those might be nice… but somehow, thinking about something being inside your belly doesn’t feel good at all.”
Jaeheon muttered in a voice that clearly showed his displeasure. Eunseo tried to hide the goosebumps rising on his nape, but couldn’t stop his body from stiffening on its own. As Jaeheon gently stroked the stiffened arms and back, he let out something like a sigh.
“You’re too thin.”
“..”
“So I don’t have to force-feed you… eat better starting tomorrow.”
“…Okay.”
“What did the cat look like?”
“What?”
Startled by the sudden question about the cat’s appearance — so startled his voice cracked at the end — Eunseo looked at him as if asking why he wanted to know, but only got a silent urging to answer quickly.
“It was a calico. Mostly white… with black and brown patches. There was a black spot at the tip of its tail….”
…It was cute. Every time I got close it flattened its ears as if telling me not to come — but sometimes it meowed so prettily, as if saying thank you. Unable to go on, Eunseo just swallowed. Remembering how that cat had died, he couldn’t bear it.
I want to get out. It was a thought he could barely even recall after a certain amount of time locked in this place. Lethargy had spread through his whole body, until he’d come to believe there was no path for him except living here as Jaeheon’s plaything.
Eunseo clenched his fist and repeated it to himself again. I want to get out. Even if I end up living on the streets, I want to get out, he repeated. He vowed that even if he died, it wouldn’t be here.
***
Every day, Eunseo bought two or three packs of a different instant ramen and carried them home. Then, always at the time the housekeeper was there — always at a late lunch — he cooked it, ate roughly two bites, and threw the rest away. The next day he’d repeat it with a different flavor.
“Do you like ramen?”
“I felt like eating it.”
“But you said you can’t finish it.”
“I get sick of it after two bites….”
Hearing this almost eccentric story, Jaeheon brought it up with a slightly stiffened expression — but seemed satisfied that Eunseo was at least eating a few bites of it.
“Which one tasted best?”
“…Bibimmyeon.”
Sour, spicy, and sweet — maybe that was why he’d eaten more of it than the others. Jaeheon took out a few of the ramen packs filling the kitchen cupboard, looked at them, and put them back.
“Too much ramen isn’t good for your health.”
“…Okay. That’s why I’m only eating a little.”
Jaeheon asked and nagged, pretending not to know — even though he heard nearly everything about Eunseo’s life from the housekeeper. Then he lifted Eunseo up from behind, right out of the dining chair, and set him on his feet.
“Let’s go for a walk together?”
“…Okay.”
Eunseo put on the light-colored jeans and short-sleeved shirt Jaeheon handed him. The weather had gotten quite hot — even a short-sleeved shirt felt stifling in the daytime.
Jaeheon put Eunseo in front and only followed behind. Maybe because he was there, there was only one bodyguard instead of three. Eunseo glanced at the two watchers, now reduced — but there was still no gap to slip through.
Sighing, Eunseo went to the wooded path where the cat had been and tapped the small remaining mound a couple of times in greeting. “Hi,” he whispered softly, then crouched down quietly. He felt a twinge of regret — he should have put in the whole bag of food. Wondering to himself whether it was hungry on its way, whether it had other friends over there, asking this and that in his mind — when he stood up, Jaeheon was wearing an expression he’d never seen before.
He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. And he pressed his lips together and released them, the way Eunseo did. Eunseo was about to ask what was wrong, but turned away from that face and walked ahead again.
***
“…What?”
“What if I don’t get married…?”
Jaeheon’s words trailed off with hesitation. Unable to comprehend what he was saying at all, Eunseo laughed emptily, incredulous. Who was it that had pushed him into this hell, saying he couldn’t give up anything,
“What — what are you talking about.”
***
“I’m saying let’s try being a family.”
“No, don’t — don’t go making assumptions like that.”
Whatever Jaeheon said now, Eunseo didn’t want to hear it. Even if Jaeheon tempted him again like the serpent that coaxed them into eating the forbidden fruit, he would never fall for it.
Without realizing, Eunseo covered his ears and walked fast. Then he went to the mart, bought two more packs of a new ramen flavor, and came out with them in a plastic bag. The bodyguard, accustomed to what had become Eunseo’s daily habit, just peeked inside once and handed the bag back. He was clearly far less vigilant than at first, when he’d turned every bag inside out to check.
“You told me not to get married once.”
Jaeheon, who’d been standing outside the mart, picked up that awful interrupted topic the moment Eunseo came out.
“…Yes, back then.”
“So it’s different now?”
“I don’t know… why you’re asking me that.”
“You’ll do… whatever you want anyway.”
Without even a trace of resentment, Eunseo spoke without emotion, like reporting an experiment’s results. Jaeheon looked down at him silently, then turned and walked ahead. Eunseo stood there a moment, confirmed with the bodyguard that he still had time left, then started walking slowly again. He didn’t want to think deeply about it.
***
Eunseo frowned slightly. He couldn’t quite make out what Jaeheon was saying. He wondered whether the words brushing past his ears were a hallucination or real, and soon concluded: it must have been a hallucination.
“Why are you pretending not to hear.”
“…What?”
So that had been real? Eunseo kept looking at Jaeheon with suspicious eyes, then looked away. It was a gesture of obvious will, but Jaeheon didn’t care at all — he grabbed Eunseo’s shoulder and turned him around.
“Don’t turn away.”
“Aren’t you curious about anything, Senior?”
The hollow of Eunseo’s nape — gone pale white from lack of sun — dipped and vanished, over and over. Jaeheon watched it as if licking it, and smiled so boyishly, with a face so clean and bright it could bewitch anyone. But Eunseo didn’t move a muscle.
“Senior.”
“…Yes.”
“I’m asking.”
“…I’m fine. If there’s something you’re curious about, Executive Director, ask away.”
Jaeheon suggested they take some time to ask and answer what they were curious about. There was no reason or purpose for that now, and with his mind full of other thoughts, Eunseo had no intention of going along with the suggestion.
Another long silence flowed by. Days spent with him were always like this. He just endured, in a stillness where no sound could be heard. Just a few months ago, there had been a time when simply lying side by side, doing nothing, had been truly precious. A time when everything had been lies and delusion.
Eunseo, briefly recalling that beautiful time — like the white sand of a beach — only blinked a few times. He’d deluded himself into thinking Jaeheon truly cherished him, just a little. Enough to forget that it had all started with blackmail; enough to hope it might be a twisted kind of affection.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
“Nothing… I’m not thinking anything.”
“Hmm…, is that so?”
“Yes.”
Jaeheon, who had closed his eyes for a long moment, quietly opened them. Eunseo wanted to get a little farther from him, but on the big sofa the space left for him was small and getting smaller. Every time, Jaeheon sat so close that Eunseo’s waist was crushed against the sofa’s armrest, and Eunseo could only endure, trapped between Jaeheon and the armrest.
Lips brushed his cheek lightly. Startled, Eunseo tried to pull back, but Jaeheon was faster — wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him right up onto his lap. Wondering if he was going to kiss him, Eunseo closed his eyes without thinking — but nothing touched him, so he opened them again. Jaeheon only stroked his exposed shoulder blades and bony shoulders, as if smoothing them down.
“You’ve gotten so thin.”
“…I’ve been eating a lot.”
Fortunately, the nausea had eased a lot since a while ago, and he’d been eating about two normal meals a day. The worst part, to Eunseo, was that those were breakfast and dinner — eaten with Jaeheon.
“Every time I hold you, your bones bump against me.”
“….”
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