* * *

“Of course, most of what that old man says is just nonsense. But lately, those words keep echoing in my mind.”

Junhee replied, trying to pull his tightly bound hands free.

“We’re just living our own lives. If things don’t align, then… just let each go their way.”

No matter how hard he tried, his hands wouldn’t budge, like they were trapped under a rock.

The more he struggled, the tighter the grip seemed to become, constricting him.

“What if you had to keep them close?”

“Then, I suppose I’d have to persuade and convince them.”

As any reasonable person would. Junhee added sharply, and Taeryu laughed.

The warmth of his breath was uncomfortably close.

Junhee wanted to pull back, but with his arms restrained, it was impossible.

Taeryu’s gaze drew nearer, skimming over Junhee’s cheek as if inspecting a speck on a polished mirror.

And then, it paused.

“Whenever you slip from my sight, you end up hurt.”

The big hand suddenly wrapped around Junhee’s jaw, catching him off guard.

A rough thumb grazed over a small scar on Junhee’s face.

It must have been from the incident with Moon Doyoung, a scar so faint and insignificant that even Junhee had forgotten about it.

“See, this makes me want to keep you close.”

“…Let me go.”

Ridiculous.

Junhee silently repeated this to himself as he pushed Taeryu’s hand away.

Judging by how easily it retreated, it seemed he was only toying with him.

Of course, Taeryu’s left hand remained clasped over his, pressing down firmly.

Junhee decided to ignore it, just for the moment, and vowed to scrub his hands thoroughly once he got home.

“So, what’s the issue this time, and why does it involve me?”

“This arrived at my company this morning.”

With a click, the glove box opened.

Taeryu nodded for him to take a look.

The contents were unclear in the dim compartment, making Junhee hesitate, imagining he might pull out something like a dead rat.

After a brief pause, realizing he couldn’t stall, he thrust his hand in.

“This…”

In Junhee’s hand was a crinkling brown envelope.

The top was already neatly torn, and as he tipped it over, stiff objects spilled out.

Photographs.

Photos upon photos.

“Me…?”

They were all pictures of him.

Junhee in a hotel, Junhee getting into a car, Junhee looking as if he were out shopping with someone.

But it wasn’t only Junhee in those photos.

In every single one, Taeryu was there, too.

“This… who… who did this?”

“I have no idea.”

While Taeryu responded nonchalantly, Junhee went pale as a sheet.

Some photos were just barely explainable, manageable even, but…

“This one… how…?”

Among the stack, Junhee’s fingers shook as he came across a particular shot.

It showed him unconscious, cradled in Taeryu’s arms, as they hastily left an event.

Lost in shock, Taeryu poked Junhee’s cheek, snapping him back.

“Who… who would send something like this? And why?”

“Who knows? That’s what I’d like to ask. Sending this to me does little harm. Should I just ignore it?”

The fingers trapping Junhee loosened for a moment, enough for him to break free if he tried.

But Junhee didn’t move.

“For me, it matters. If this leaks, I’ll be…”

Unconsciously, Junhee clenched his hand, and his fingers brushed against Taeryu’s thigh.

“No… absolutely not…”

Everything he’d built would be ruined beyond repair.

His company, career, colleagues, his entire future—all of it.

If people also found out he was an omega…

He might be abandoned again, left nowhere to go, just like those days he thought he’d left behind.

Taeryu gently stroked Junhee’s pale cheek.

“Poor thing.”

Despite the words, there wasn’t a trace of pity in Taeryu’s expression.

He softly brushed Junhee’s trembling chin, muttering in a low voice.

“I briefly considered helping out of pity… but our dear Assistant Yoo Junhee seems to prefer that we live our own lives and go our separate ways.”

He watched closely as the last glimmer of hope faded from Junhee’s eyes and finally curled his lips into a smirk.

It felt like sinking into quicksand.

---

“…Ha.”

Junhee exhaled deeply as he opened his eyes and stared at the familiar ceiling.

It was a fitful sleep, haunted by nightmares.

In his dream, someone had grabbed his ankle, dragging him into a pit… and as he kept falling, he woke up.

The sinking feeling of his dream seemed just as hopeless as his reality, soon to come crashing down.

Thinking he should catch a bit more sleep to make it through work, he tried to close his eyes.

Beep beep- beep beep beep-

But right then, his alarm blared, forcing him to sit up.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he headed to the bathroom and showered.

Water dripped from his damp hair as he looked in the mirror, memories from the day before pooling in his mind.

“Help… please.”

“Our Junhee, asking so earnestly makes it hard to say no.”

“….”

“If we’re going to fix this, you’ll need to cooperate well. Can you do that?”

Junhee had nodded without thinking, agreeing without the faintest idea of what Taeryu’s ‘cooperation’ would entail, clutching desperately at grains of sand slipping through his fingers.

“No lies from now on, and you’ll listen to me well too, right? Yes?”

Junhee murmured “yes” before he could think.

Breaking through the darkness, Taeryu’s warm breath stirred his soft hair.

Their tangled fingers unwound, and Taeryu’s hand trailed up Junhee’s arm, like a creeping vine.

Wherever his touch landed, Junhee felt himself slowly eroding.

When Taeryu’s hand finally reached his neck, Junhee couldn’t resist.

Blinking slowly, he saw a large hand resting just near his lips, close enough to kiss, yet unmoving.

Junhee raised his weary gaze, locking eyes with Taeryu, understanding his intentions.

Then, as if in submission, he placed his lips on the back of Taeryu’s hand. Taeryu smiled silently.

“Good boy.”

Taeryu’s large hand ruffled Junhee’s hair.

“Bastard. Treating me like a dog.”

Junhee clenched his jaw and slammed his hand down on the sink.

Bang! The sound was loud, but thankfully nothing broke.

“…Can’t break yet.”

Not yet. He repeated it like a vow.

His lease wasn’t up yet, so he had to keep it together until then.

The lease with his landlord—and the contract with Taeryu.

As Junhee stepped out of the bathroom, the heavy, damp air lingered.

Junhee went straight to the service center with his broken phone after asking his manager for a bit of time right when he arrived at work.

Thankfully, the center was close by, so he reached it quickly.

After checking in and handing over his phone, he sat and waited patiently.

Soon, his number was called, and Junhee went to the designated counter, where he met the repair technician.

The technician held Junhee’s shattered phone, its edges dented, and was silent for a moment.

The scene felt like a solemn moment of silence before a gravestone, making Junhee a bit somber as well.

“Mr. Yoo Junhee?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm… as you may know, it looks like your phone took quite a bit of external damage. You couldn’t even turn it on, right?”

“…Yes. At first, it kept rebooting endlessly, but then it stopped turning on altogether.”

“Right. If it were only a broken screen, we could replace it, but upon inspection, the motherboard itself is damaged. I’m afraid it’s beyond repair.”

“Really? I just dropped it, and it broke the motherboard?”

Though he half-expected it after the solemn silence, hearing the final verdict still hit hard.

“It’s actually unusual for a single drop to cause this much damage, but repeated or severe impacts can lead to issues this serious. Based on my inspection, it seems it might have fallen from a significant height or been dropped multiple times.”

The technician was right.

There had been several incidents with Siwon where it fell from a fairly high place and even tumbled down the stairs.

And just days ago, it had taken a fall from a hotel balcony, too.

Feeling like a phone abuser, Junhee couldn’t lift his head.

“Then, is there any chance of recovering the data on it?”

“Given the extensive damage to the motherboard, data recovery would be very difficult. I’m sorry.”

‘Sorry.’

The word echoed in Junhee’s mind as he left the service center, dragging his feet with his phone’s remains in a small plastic bag.

* * *