* * *
Ben finally opened his eyes when the sun was already high in the sky.
Regrettably, the reason he woke up was hunger—one of humanity’s most primal instincts.
Well, he hadn’t eaten much since lunch the day before.
He’d been feeling so low that he hadn’t even thought about food, let alone made an effort to eat.
So, naturally, the hunger that had been piling up came crashing in all at once.
Still wrapped in the blankets, Ben barely opened his eyes and glanced to the side.
Haimar was already up, leaning against the bed’s headboard as he flipped through a book—just like every other morning.
Well, technically it was already past morning into midday, but the vibe was the same.
‘What time is it?’
Ben blinked vacantly and thought to himself.
If he had to attach some meaning to that thought… well, he was wondering whether his next meal should be considered a very late lunch or an early dinner.
As he pushed himself up with effort, he suddenly noticed Haimar’s hand still gripping his—something he hadn’t even realized until now.
“…Good morning—wait, no. Good afternoon.”
He tried to lift his free arm, but Haimar wasn’t letting go of the other, so Ben ended up using his sore arm to wipe his face.
From the feel of the bandaged fingers against his swollen eyes and tangled hair, he could tell he looked like a mess without even needing a mirror.
They’d spent the night together, and yet Haimar looked perfectly fine. How unfair.
“You look like a wreck.”
“I know I look like a wreck.”
Ben shot Haimar a sharp glare.
As if he didn’t know who was responsible for his current state.
Swallowing back a grumble, Ben reached for his phone, which was lying nearby, and turned on the screen.
It wasn’t quite 3 p.m., and a bunch of unread messages were waiting for him.
He skipped over the flashy ones from Moria Iren and noticed surprisingly a few from Liran Siu and Elgran.
Deciding to check them later, Ben locked the screen again.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“You’re hungry?”
“Of course I—”
Grrrrrgle—
He was going to say “of course I am,” but his empty stomach decided to interrupt, loudly asserting its presence.
“……”
Ben covered his face and avoided looking at Haimar.
He had a bad feeling this would become endless teasing material.
Now, every time his stomach so much as twitched, Haimar would probably perk up with his absurdly good hearing and ask, “Are you hungry?”
“Heh, Ben Plaskun, seriously…”
Haimar’s laugh, unmistakably laced with amusement, reached Ben’s ears.
It wasn’t loud, but it had a strangely strong presence—enough that even the sound of him breathing was distracting.
But unlike the usual mocking laughter Ben had expected, the one he heard now was different.
Curious, Ben looked up at Haimar, only to find that familiar, too-kind smile replaced by something looser and more genuine—Haimar’s lips curled into a relaxed, amused grin.
“What’s so funny about someone being hungry…?”
There’s a saying that you can’t spit on a smiling face.
Of course, if it were his usual fake smile, Ben might’ve considered spitting anyway.
But this one looked real—so he just let out a small sigh.
In any case, he had to eat something.
Ben gently pulled his hand free from Haimar’s and sluggishly sat up on the edge of the bed.
He still ached all over, but not as badly as when he’d first woken up.
As he began to rise, still wrapped in the blanket, Haimar—who had stood up along with him—offered help.
“I’ll get your clothes.”
“Oh, I’d appreciate that.”
Thanks to Haimar, Ben was able to dress without trouble.
His legs still shaky, he made his way slowly to the bathroom and washed up as best he could with one hand.
Afterward, his reflection looked more human.
When he finally stepped out into the kitchen, the strong aroma of coffee greeted him—Haimar must’ve brewed some.
“Could I have a cup too?”
“Of course.”
Haimar expertly handed Ben a cup of freshly brewed coffee, which Ben accepted and took a sip of.
The familiar bitter flavor spread through his mouth.
As the warm liquid trickled down his throat, it felt like it was warming his whole body.
With something finally in his system, his stomach only cried out more insistently.
Ben dropped heavily into a chair and started thinking about what to eat.
“Do we have anything to eat?”
“Just cereal. Unfortunately, we’re out of milk.”
Ben sipped his coffee leisurely, and Haimar walked over to the pantry, shook a half-empty cereal box at him, and set it on the table.
“Ugh, of course.”
Now that he thought about it, there really wasn’t much food in this officetel.
Neither of them ever really cooked—they usually just grabbed whatever was quick.
It was rare for them to sit down and eat anything that wasn’t coffee or some kind of pastry.
Their fridge was practically a wasteland, and judging by the pristine electric stovetop, it had never been used.
And eating dry cereal without milk wasn’t appealing.
Besides, for some reason, Ben was craving something hot—cooked food.
Ordering out was one thing, but maybe they should at least stock up on groceries for emergencies like this.
He realized he’d been living a little too carelessly for the past few months.
“Should we go shopping? And maybe grab a bite while we’re out.”
“Go out?”
Ah, maybe that was pushing it.
Haimar didn’t really like crowded places.
His striking appearance drew attention wherever he went, and if he made eye contact, he could end up reading people’s thoughts—or worse, accidentally interfering with their minds.
It made sense that he avoided it.
Ben quickly backtracked, realizing it wasn’t a good suggestion.
“I can go alone. Want me to bring anything back?”
Even if it wasn’t a full grocery store, the convenience store nearby had the basics.
Ben was about to stand by his own words when Haimar frowned slightly and pointed to Ben’s arm.
“Your arm’s still messed up.”
“I can carry things with one hand.”
“Let’s go together.”
“…Huh?”
“It’d be better to go to the supermarket nearby.”
Ben almost choked on his coffee.
He’d assumed Haimar would politely decline or shut him down with that usual no-nonsense tone of his.
So he’d nodded instinctively—but was still shocked.
In a daze, Ben finished the rest of his coffee.
When Haimar returned dressed in a jacket and holding the spare car keys, Ben hurriedly gathered a few things and followed him out.
∗ ∗ ∗
“……”
“Something wrong?”
The food section of the large supermarket, reached in Haimar’s flashy foreign car, felt incredibly out of sync with him.
Watching him carry a cheery yellow shopping basket on one arm looked almost comical—like he was being forced to carry something beneath his dignity.
What’s more, this was the first time the two of them had gone out together privately outside the Central.
Which meant, outside of that controlled space, Ben was getting a very real reminder of just how much attention Haimar’s face attracted.
Men and women alike couldn’t take their eyes off him, as if under some sort of spell.
It was enough to make Ben feel embarrassed on Haimar’s behalf.
“…Sorry about this.”
Ben tossed the lettuce he planned to make into a salad into the basket and said with an openly troubled expression.
However, Haimar, wearing his usual unreadable face, simply asked, “What is?” as he picked out a few kinds of dressing.
“I just thought… this might be uncomfortable for you, in a number of ways. If you’re just enduring it, please tell me.”
“If it looks like there’s no problem, isn’t that good enough?”
“…You should learn how to speak up when something’s wrong.”
Honestly, if Ben hadn’t brought it up yesterday, it was anyone’s guess when the whole thing would have blown up.
Sure, he wasn’t entirely blameless, but if Haimar really intended to endure it all without saying a single word, Ben definitely wanted to avoid that kind of situation from now on.
Even if he was finally starting to get a sense of Haimar’s mood, there were still too many things that couldn’t be known unless Haimar actually said them.
But Haimar, pausing his steps, quietly studied Ben as he put things down into the basket.
“I can’t read your mind. So stop looking at me like that and just answer properly, please.”
He pretended to be picking out ham from the display, but Haimar’s gaze was sharp enough that it felt like it might burn a hole right through the side of Ben’s face.
Even so, Ben kept up his calm demeanor, torn between the original ham and the one with cheese.
“Fine. I’ll try.”
The sigh that followed clearly showed how reluctant he was, but for Ben, the fact that Haimar hadn’t said anything negative was already a decent outcome.
A satisfied smile crept across his lips.
Then, deciding it’d be best to just get both kinds, he tossed both into the basket.
Haimar glanced at Ben’s expression with a blank look and added,
“Speaking of which.”
“Yes?”
“You had no problem calling my name so easily last night.”
God, seriously. He really can’t stand to see me pleased, can he?
This time, instead of Haimar, it was Ben whose face fell like he’d swallowed something bitter.
He’d just said it out of habit, without thinking, but the embarrassing memory from last night immediately began to resurface.
The tips of his ears were already starting to heat up before he realized it, but he forced himself to act nonchalant and responded in protest.
* * *
