Come Back

“Why? Did I do something unnecessary?”

Even as he asked, his tone and expression remained calm, with a subtle pressure in his eyes that suggested he would not accept any answer other than one that confirmed he had done the right thing. It was the look of a person with the authority to push forward regardless of opposition—something only those with power to impose their will could carry. This was a face that Hongseo had never seen in Haeseong before.

Hongseo set down his spoon and shook his head.

“It’s not that, I just think people might think it’s strange.”

Haeseong tilted his head slightly.

“What do you mean?”

“That people might think there’s something between the vice president and me…”

“Actually, there is something between us.”

His posture, with one hand resting on his crossed leg and the other holding the coffee cup on the saucer, was flawless—elegant. He mentioned the previous night’s sex so matter-of-factly, as if it were something dry and unimportant. The next moment, as he relaxed his shoulders and his expression softened, Hongseo realized it had been his subtle attempt at humor.

“Are you worried about what people think? About the rumors?”

At the unexpected comment, Hongseo was a little taken aback, but he didn’t care about others’ thoughts or rumors either.

“Yoon Hyean… I’ve got a bad reputation from the past. People might start rumors about me being a sponsor or something.”

“Exactly. Are you worried?”

“……”

He was telling him to forget about other people or rumors and just talk about his own feelings. That was the message in his eyes and expression, stronger than any words. Hongseo did not look away and answered.

“No.”

Finally, Haeseong seemed satisfied with the response. He slightly raised his chin and relaxed back into his seat.

The movement of his thumb, rubbing the rim of the coffee cup, was smooth and calm.

“Haeseong keeps looking out for me, and it’s getting a little too much. Just tell people that.”

“……”

“I’ll take care of the rest.”

As he brought the cup to his lips, Haeseong raised an eyebrow, glancing at Hongseo.

“Finish your meal.”

It seemed like a simple matter to him, as if handling people’s gazes or rumors was easier than crushing a macaroon with his fist.

In the past, Haeseong had been soft, gentle, and willingly lowered himself to show a playful side to create a sense of closeness with others. He had been the ideal, rich heir one might see in a movie. Now, he resembled a villainous CEO in a drama.

“Did you see it earlier? In the end, I’m the type of person who uses my position to create the situation I want when I need to.”

As he had once said, now he seemed fully prepared to use and wield whatever he had to create the circumstances he desired.

But of course, that did not mean that Haeseong could become a villain to Hongseo. It was just a shift in the atmosphere.

Throughout the meal, the events of the previous night came back one by one. Like a brilliant composer suddenly scribbling down a melody he didn’t want to forget, it made Hongseo’s mind spin.

During the sex, his consciousness had faded and scattered, and all he could do was gasp while enduring Haeseong’s thrusts. But he had not forgotten the significant things Haeseong had said before.

What conclusion had he come to? Was that why he told him not to worry about what people said? The idea that Haeseong would make such a sacrifice for Yoon Hyean seemed strange.

Hongseo couldn’t even taste the savory flavor of the abalone porridge in his mouth. He couldn’t even feel the refreshing taste of the dried fish soup anymore. His heart was beating too fast, and he mechanically moved his spoon and chewed.

It was a tremor caused by a long-lost feeling of expectation and hope, not anxiety or fear.

After the meal, Haeseong naturally intended to drive Hongseo home.

Hongseo had planned to say it wasn’t a long distance and that he could take a taxi, but he gave up. There was no point in saying such things to a man who wasn’t going to compromise. It would only make things more bothersome, just as he had intended.

Haeseong didn’t try to confirm anything about the events of the previous night. His face was lost in thought as he focused solely on driving.

It was November. The early morning air had turned chilly, almost cold. The dawn was slowly approaching. The rain from the night before had weakened, but it still fell enough to require the windshield wipers.

The silence was both comfortable and tense. Hongseo would occasionally glance at Haeseong, and each time, he would turn to look at him, as if sensing the gaze. Every time he tried to force a smile, he seemed to be in pain.

Instead of dropping him off at the entrance of his officetel, Haeseong drove to the underground parking garage. They got out of the car together, took the elevator together, and walked down the hallway together.

“Are you… going in?”

Only in front of the door did Hongseo finally gather enough courage to ask.

Haeseong, with both hands shoved into his pants pockets, stepped closer behind him, urging him to open the door quickly.

“Just inside the door.”

The room, with the blinds drawn and the interior angled in shadow, felt dim. Tiffany wasn’t there to greet him as Hongseo had expected, since she wasn’t the type to come out when he came home.

They stood facing each other in the narrow hallway. Haeseong looked down at Hongseo with an expression that seemed dissatisfied. He clicked his tongue lightly and gently stroked his eye with his right hand.

“You’re a mess from crying.”

“I’m fine. I don’t have any special schedules.”

It was a resilient tone, so much so that it felt out of place in the heavy, subdued atmosphere. Still, Hongseo looked him in the eye and didn’t look away. He knew it was time to leave soon.

Haeseong carefully touched his swollen eyes and, as he examined Hongseo’s face up close, he smiled briefly as if he had discovered something in Hongseo’s gaze.

“If you have something to say, go ahead.”

“Will you come to the next script study session?”

Was that all he wanted to say? Haeseong chuckled, a bit empty.

“Do you want me to come?”

Hongseo nodded vigorously, his sincerity evident.

Haeseong looked at Hongseo’s face for a long time in silence. Until the sensor above them turned off.

In the deepening twilight, his eyes shone, and his lips moved.

“Everyone has a way of speaking.”

“……”

“Not just the way they speak, but every action carries a unique ‘tone.’ The way they walk, the expression they make when they’re flustered, the angle at which their lips curl when they’re displeased, the tightness of their jaw when they’re holding back their emotions… These tiny characteristics come together to create a ‘tone’ that belongs to no one else.”

His voice was more husky than usual, likely because he hadn’t slept well. Even so, his calm storytelling was pleasant to listen to. Hongseo listened carefully.

“When I lived at my parents’ house, I could tell who it was just by hearing the sound of slippers in the hallway.”

Hongseo thought he understood what Haeseong meant. Before moving into the new place that Haeseong had prepared for him, Hongseo had had a similar experience at his old apartment. Just by hearing footsteps on the stairs, he could tell whether it was his manager, Jeong Ji-in, Hyun-soo, or even the old lady living upstairs.

“Some distinctive speech patterns, expressions, or habits might be imitated, but you can’t replicate someone’s unique ‘tone’ entirely.”

His voice became cautious, as if he were carefully cupping clear, precious water with both hands in the middle of a dense, silent forest.

“For example, the look you gave just now when you wanted to say something, or the look in your eyes now… the way you’re gazing at me with blind affection… that’s what I’m talking about.”

At the end of his words, Haeseong smiled barely visible, lightly pinching Hongseo’s nose with his thumb and forefinger. Then he bent down slightly, as if a large wall were gently tilting in front of him. The sensor above them lit up again. In the deeper shadows cast on his face, Haeseong’s expression seemed especially sad.

“Come find me if you want to see me.”

“……”

“Keep your promise.”

“Promise?”

Hongseo was completely captivated by the cryptic, secretive words Haeseong was saying. Even if he didn’t understand what it meant right away, it didn’t matter. He swallowed hard, his voice lowering to match Haeseong’s, feeling like a child listening to a magical fairy tale, drawn in by his words.

As Haeseong straightened up again, his face moved further away.

“To wake the princess from the terrible spell, you need a decisive performance.”

“……”

“You have to fight through the thorns, climb the tall castle, or even fight the dragon… You have to show the princess you won’t give up.”

“……”

“That you’re the prince.”

He emphasized that part. Perhaps because of the shadow created by the sensor light, his face appeared especially sad.

And so they stood facing each other in the dark, staring at each other as the sensor switched off. Without trying to decode his cryptic words logically, they connected through their gazes, as if his emotions and thoughts were flowing directly into Hongseo. Hongseo forgot to blink, focusing entirely on him.

You have to show the princess you won’t give up.

Although he didn’t fully understand what it meant yet, Hongseo found himself nodding without realizing it. He had the will to show something, to not give up on the princess.

Haeseong smiled again, this time painfully, as he looked down at Hongseo nodding resolutely. A large, warm hand reached up to cover his cheeks and ears, just like before.

“Then save me.”

“……”

“The princess will wait with her eyes closed.”

The sound of air moving under his palm, covering Hongseo’s ear, was layered with Haeseong’s voice. It felt like he was hearing a distress call underwater—far away but with an intense, resonant echo.