* * *
Jin Seyoung couldn’t help but grumble inwardly.
If Wonho was going to make such a fuss, why hadn’t he just treated Haebom well from the start?
Even now, he wasn’t handling things properly.
It didn’t matter that it was all part of a contract—if Haebom ever decided to walk away from their pairing, it would be a disaster.
Technically, the contract arranged through the center should be enough to keep Haebom tied down, but Jin Seyoung doubted it would actually work.
The center provided everything Haebom needed because he had no personal ties elsewhere, but if he truly refused to guide Wonho anymore, there would be no way to stop him.
That’s why Jin Seyoung wanted Wonho to hold onto Haebom—tightly enough that he wouldn’t even think about leaving.
Even for someone like Jin Seyoung, who didn’t need guiding, Haebom was worth looking after.
If even other espers who had received guiding from him once were completely smitten, why was Wonho being so oblivious?
“Something wrong?”
“Huh? No, never mind. Oh—looks like your test results are ready. Hold on.”
Noticing Jin Seyoung suddenly staring at him in silence, Haebom tilted his head in confusion.
Just then, as if on cue, a notification chimed.
Haebom still had no idea why Jin Seyoung had made that expression, but since he didn’t explain, there was no way to find out.
“Alright, pull up a chair and come over here.”
Haebom let out a small sigh and dragged his chair closer to Jin Seyoung’s desk.
Just as Jin Seyoung was about to explain the test results—
BANG!
The door swung open violently.
“…Yoon Haebom.”
Both Jin Seyoung and Haebom turned to the source of the loud noise.
Standing in the doorway was Wonho, looking absolutely wrecked.
Haebom’s eyes widened in shock, his brows knitting together as he took in the sight.
“You’re hurt? Are you in pain?”
When Wonho had left earlier, his uniform had been pristine.
Now, it was tattered, practically in shreds.
The black fabric was stained, some areas torn, and worst of all, there were patches of blood.
Haebom didn’t see any visible wounds, but the state of Wonho’s uniform made it clear—his body was probably in just as bad of a condition.
“Wonho, go clean up. You can’t just walk around like that.”
Just as Haebom stepped forward, Jin Seyoung caught his arm, stopping him.
Haebom looked at him in surprise.
Jin Seyoung, despite seeing Wonho’s injuries, didn’t seem fazed at all.
Maybe he was just used to it.
That made sense, but still…
Wasn’t he being a bit too indifferent?
“Now.”
“Tch. Yoon Haebom, don’t wander off. Stay right here.”
Clicking his tongue, Wonho turned around and disappeared from sight in an instant.
Haebom glanced back and forth between the now-empty doorway and Jin Seyoung, feeling lost.
“He’s already healed. His regeneration ability is strong. If it was a serious injury, he wouldn’t have even been able to stand, and you would’ve been called immediately. Don’t worry about it.”
Even with Jin Seyoung’s calm reassurance, Haebom couldn’t shake his concern.
Just because the wounds had healed didn’t mean they hadn’t hurt.
He had read about Wonho getting injured and in pain so many times in the novel that he couldn’t help but worry.
A moment ago, Wonho had seemed annoying, but now, seeing him in that state, Haebom couldn’t stop thinking about him.
As Jin Seyoung went over the test results, Wonho returned—this time, completely clean and dressed in a fresh uniform.
“…Is this your home or something?”
“Huh…?”
Haebom blinked in confusion, not immediately processing Wonho’s words.
Normally, he would have caught on right away, but his thoughts were preoccupied with worries about the injuries hidden beneath that clean uniform.
Noticing Haebom’s distraction, Wonho strode over, grabbed his chin, and tilted his face up to meet his gaze.
Then, without warning, he pressed his fingers into Haebom’s cheeks.
“Mmff—?”
His lips puckered awkwardly, making him look like a duck.
Haebom blinked rapidly, startled.
He tried to swat Wonho’s hand away, but it was no use, so he gave up and let his face be squished.
Satisfied, Wonho smirked—but that didn’t mean he was happy about Haebom being at the center.
“I told you to stay home and rest. Do you have goldfish memory or something?”
“I didn’t forget. I slept, woke up, ate… I wasn’t going to fall asleep again so soon. I’m not even that sleepy…”
He wasn’t the type to sleep much, so Haebom was about to question why he’d been sleeping all day—until Haebom remembered Wonho was the reason for it and shut his mouth.
If he couldn’t sleep, he could’ve just rested instead of crawling all the way here, and that bothered Wonho.
Even though Wonho was the one who pinned Haebom down, his pouty lips and duck-like expression as he tried to excuse himself were so adorable that Wonho couldn’t let go.
“…This is my lab, you know. If you’re going to fight, do it at home. Please.”
Jin Seyoung, who had been watching them from the side, finally spoke up.
What she actually wanted to say was that lovers’ quarrels should be handled in private, but she held back because Wonho was sensitive enough to take offense.
Clicking his tongue, Wonho finally let go of Haebom’s face.
“Well, since you’re already here, sit down, Wonho.”
“…Now what?”
Suspicious of whatever was coming next, Wonho furrowed his brows slightly.
But when Jin Seyoung twitched her eyebrows, Wonho let out a sigh, dragged a chair over, and sat beside Haebom.
He’d only been told to sit, not necessarily right next to Haebom.
Jin Seyoung made a mental note to tease Wonho about it later, then proceeded to explain Haebom’s condition again.
Truthfully, Haebom was doing just fine.
As she had said repeatedly, Haebom had fainted purely due to a lack of stamina.
Compared to the guiding energy in his body, his physical endurance was ridiculously low.
That was something all newly awakened Guides experienced, meaning Wonho didn’t have to be so absurdly overprotective.
But, at the same time, if a bonded Guide collapsed due to exhaustion, it was natural for the Esper to react this way—so it wasn’t particularly strange.
“Haebom, consistent exercise is essential for smooth guiding in the future. It’s not too late to start now. You know there’s a fitness center nearby, right? Go every day.”
“Ugh… Every day?”
Haebom, who was usually diligent in everything he did, had one thing he absolutely despised—physical activity.
Even when looking for part-time jobs, he preferred tasks that required minimal movement for maximum efficiency.
Those kinds of jobs were rare, of course, but in any case, if it wasn’t strictly necessary, he wanted nothing to do with exercise.
“Yes, every day.”
“Ugh…” Haebom groaned.
Beside him, Wonho looked at him like he was pathetic.
He was already planning to check every day whether Haebom was actually working out or not—and he didn’t find anything odd about thinking this way.
Whether he cared or not, Jin Seyoung continued speaking.
“When you do another mucosal guiding session, you need to cut off the guiding energy when you feel like it’s enough. Until you build up your basic stamina, it’s better to regulate the amount of guiding. Otherwise, you’ll just collapse again. Got it?”
The words came out so nonchalantly that, for a moment, Haebom wondered if he had misheard.
It took him a second to realize that by “mucosal guiding,” Jin Seyoung was referring to that thing he and Wonho had done in bed.
The realization turned Haebom bright red, like a ripened tomato.
Watching his reaction, Jin Seyoung smirked mischievously.
He wanted to tease him more, but Wonho was glaring daggers at him, so he let it slide.
Not that he cared about Wonho’s glare—but it would be much more fun to tease Haebom when they were alone later.
“Wonho, you too. You know your wavelength better than anyone. When you think it’s enough, tell him to stop. Haebom’s not going to be in the right state of mind to gauge it himself.”
“Ahhh! I—I’m leaving!”
Unable to take it anymore, Haebom shot to his feet.
He knew that Jin Seyoung was already aware of everything, but hearing it out loud from her was something else entirely.
And with Wonho right next to him, too…
He didn’t think he could experience anything more mortifying.
* * *
