* * *
As the evening glow was fading, Dojin’s old truck came to a stop in front of a fine Italian restaurant perched on a hill overlooking the sea.
It was a place famous for its ambiance, even in the ever-beautiful Jeju, recommended by a friend.
“Wow, this is really nice, isn’t it?”
Unable to hide his excitement, his face slightly flushed, Dojin got out first and opened the car door for Yoonwoo.
“They say the night view here is really pretty! I hope you like it, Mr. Yoonwoo.”
He spoke in a slightly elated voice.
The moment Yoonwoo stepped out of the car, he froze solid upon seeing the restaurant’s brilliantly lit entrance, the subtle lighting, and the luxurious interior visible through the full-length windows.
An all-too-familiar atmosphere.
It looked strikingly similar to the very restaurant in Seoul where Juwon had taken him months ago, and then abandoned him, leaving him alone after a single phone call from that Omega.
His breathing became noticeably ragged.
Lately, thanks to Dojin and Gaeul, he had managed to forget about that incident for a while.
He thought he was truly okay now.
But he wasn’t.
The buried memories, the sensations of that horrific night, surged over his consciousness without warning, like an uncontrollable tidal wave.
Juwon’s face, apologizing to him yet brightly smiling at another Omega’s call; his retreating back as he hurriedly made excuses and left Yoonwoo behind; Yoonwoo’s own misery as he remained alone at the empty table, staring at the cooling food…
It all felt so vivid, as if it were happening right before his eyes.
Ah, so he hadn’t gotten better.
He had just been… desperately avoiding it.
Along with that wretched realization, intense fear and humiliation gripped his entire body.
“Huh… haa… ha…”
Unconsciously, he clutched his chest.
It was hard to breathe.
His vision spun dizzyingly, blurring.
His fingertips turned cold.
Cold sweat trickled down his spine.
The sounds of music and people’s voices around him faded into incomprehensible noise; it seemed he could only hear his own rough breathing and the sound of his heart madly racing.
“Mr. Yoonwoo! Are you okay? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Dojin, who had been elated, stiffened in an instant at Yoonwoo’s unusual state.
His face deathly pale, his shoulders trembling unstably, his inability to breathe properly.
Flustered and at a loss, Dojin quickly supported Yoonwoo’s arm.
He intuited that the cause of Yoonwoo’s distress was directly related to this place.
The fact that his desire to bring Yoonwoo to a nice place had instead inflicted the pain of recalling a terrible memory made his heart sink heavily.
“Mr. Yoonwoo, snap out of it! Look at me, look at me! Take a deep breath. Hoo… ha…”
Dojin rubbed Yoonwoo’s back, trying his utmost to calm him down as steadily as possible.
“Mr. Yoonwoo, excuse me for a moment.”
Without asking for Yoonwoo’s consent any further, he carefully but firmly put an arm around his shoulders and guided him back towards the truck.
Yoonwoo, still breathing rapidly, leaned on Dojin and stumbled along.
Dojin carefully helped the struggling Yoonwoo up into the passenger seat of the truck.
The entire drive back to the guesthouse was filled with a heavy silence.
Dojin kept glancing at Yoonwoo with worried eyes.
Yoonwoo just stared blankly out the window.
His breathing had stabilized a little compared to before, but his face was still pale, and a deep weariness emanated from his entire body.
Dojin felt a profound guilt, thinking his rash action had touched Yoonwoo’s wound.
Simultaneously, his heart ached as he realized once again just how deep Yoonwoo’s pain was.
A sense of powerlessness, that there was so little he could do for Yoonwoo, tormented him.
Upon arriving at the guesthouse, Dojin sent Yoonwoo into his room first.
“Just get some proper rest today. I’ll prepare a simple dinner and bring it to your room.”
His voice was endlessly soft and cautious.
Yoonwoo wordlessly nodded and entered his room.
Hearing the thud of the closing door, Dojin let out a deep sigh.
He had ruined the evening, but at least it was fortunate they returned before Yoonwoo felt worse.
He stood in the yard for a moment, looking up at the darkened night sky, then quietly headed to the kitchen.
Thinking he should prepare a warm meal for him, even if it wasn’t the fancy restaurant food.
A while later, Dojin carefully knocked on Yoonwoo’s door, holding a simple meal tray with steaming warm abalone porridge and some simple side dishes.
Yoonwoo opened the door and watched silently as Dojin placed the tray on the small table in the room.
“You probably don’t have an appetite, but please try to eat a little. It’ll be harder if you stay on an empty stomach,” Dojin said cautiously.
“…Thank you,” Yoonwoo replied in a low voice.
He sat down at the table and slowly picked up the spoon.
The savory smell of the abalone porridge tickled his nose.
The room held a comfort and safety incomparable to the suffocating fear he had felt at the restaurant earlier.
In the awkward silence, Yoonwoo began to eat very slowly.
Dojin sat quietly beside him, silently watching.
Then, Yoonwoo, holding his spoon, suddenly turned his head towards Dojin.
His eyes were still deep and empty, difficult to read any emotion from.
“…Mr. Dojin.”
“Yes?”
“You’re a superior Alpha too, so I’m asking you…”
Yoonwoo spoke very quietly, yet with a force that seemed to want to confirm something.
“…Do you think… love that transcends traits… is possible?”
For a moment, Dojin’s heart sank.
‘…Did he notice my feelings? Or… is he just asking?’
He felt his face grow hot without realizing it.
But soon, looking at Yoonwoo’s hollow eyes, he realized that wasn’t it.
He wasn’t simply curious about Dojin’s opinion.
It might have been a question he was posing to someone from his painful past, or perhaps even to himself, after all he’d been through.
Dojin quickly composed himself and chose his words as carefully as possible.
His voice was serious.
“Well…”
Dojin fell silent for a moment, trying to gauge Yoonwoo’s pain.
“As an Alpha… I don’t intend to deny that we can be weak to pheromones or instinct. They’re undoubtedly powerful. I sometimes surprise myself because of the Alpha inside me too. But…”
His gaze became serious once more.
“I believe that when people are drawn to each other, there’s something more important and stronger than instinct.”
He seemed to ponder for a moment before hesitantly continuing his thought.
“I… think people are like gardens. The first thing that catches your eye might be a brilliantly blooming flower, like a pheromone. But it’s not that single flower that makes the entire garden beautiful, right?”
He looked at Yoonwoo as he continued.
“It’s only after the owner diligently levels the soil, sows the seeds, waters them timely, weeds out the unwanted, and pours in their own philosophy about which plants to place and how, over a long time and with effort, that a beautiful garden finally emerges.”
“……”
“And love… isn’t it something that truly begins not just with the initial appearance or a intense feeling, but when you understand how that person has cultivated their own garden throughout their life, and what stories and values are contained within it?”
In the answer Dojin carefully laid out, there was an unmistakable sincerity he couldn’t hide.
“I believe that if one can recognize and respect the person’s true self beyond their traits… the unique garden that belongs only to them, then they won’t be so easily swept away by the powerful waves of instinct…. At the very least, that’s what I want to believe.”
However, Yoonwoo , listening to that sincere statement, was skeptical.
He still couldn’t believe it. Eight years ago, Juwon had said something similar.
But in the end, he had crumbled before his instincts.
Would Dojin be any different?
Even if he says this now, faced with intense Omega pheromones, he would be just the same.
He stirred the contents of his bowl with his spoon and spat out the words in a bitter, cold voice.
“…Well. When you meet an Omega, your thoughts will probably change.”
His words were laden with deep resignation and distrust.
They sounded like a cold prophecy, mocking Dojin’s pure belief.
Dojin was momentarily at a loss for words because of Yoonwoo ‘s remark.
A look of regret and sorrow passed over his face.
It pained him that the sincerity he had uttered sounded like nothing but empty idealism to Yoonwoo.
Simultaneously, he realized once again that Yoonwoo ‘s wounds were far deeper and more severe than he had imagined.
But he forced a smile and didn’t press the topic further, knowing it wasn’t the right time yet.
An awkward silence fell once more. Yoonwoo stopped eating and put his spoon down.
It seemed his room was still shrouded in a cold, deep shadow of despair, rather than the warm scent of porridge.
So as not to disturb Yoonwoo , Dojin quietly stood up, collected the empty bowl, and left the room.
Today, it felt like he had caught a glimpse of a corner of Yoonwoo ‘s despair, and of the profound questions deep within his heart.
* * *
