* * *
“What kind of senior year has a field trip?”
“Still, it ends early, doesn’t it?”
“The National Museum, right? Should I come along?”
With dark circles under his eyes, Jungin gulped down coffee like water as his older brother, Jungseo, casually made conversation.
“Didn’t you say your assignment was due today?”
Jungseo, who hadn’t slept for several nights because of his graduation project, was a tough obstacle for Beomhyeon to overcome when sneaking into Jungin’s room—a fact Jungin had learned from Beomhyeon’s many complaints.
Sure enough, Jungseo’s face twisted in frustration as he let out a low groan.
His hands held printouts covered with strange graphs.
“It’s fine, I’m going with Beomhyeon.”
“What time does it end? I’ll come pick you up.”
“No, just finish your project and get some sleep. You look really tired.”
“Then let’s eat something delicious tomorrow. I’ll have plenty of free time then.”
Tomorrow.
By tomorrow, Jungin wouldn’t be here anymore.
He smiled bitterly, nodding his head.
“Have a good trip, little brother.”
Jungin wrapped his arms around his brother, who never skipped hugging him goodbye.
Enveloped in Jungseo’s comforting scent, Jungin stayed in his embrace longer than usual.
“Hyung, thank you for everything.”
“What’s with you, kid? Why so sentimental all of a sudden?”
“Just… I feel like I haven’t shown enough appreciation.”
Though his brother’s brow furrowed awkwardly, he let out a small laugh and ruffled Jungin’s hair.
“Thanks to you too. Stay healthy, Jungin.”
“Mm… I’ll be off!”
After an early morning workout with Jungjin, breakfast prepared by Jungwoo, and a final heartfelt goodbye to Jungseo, Jungin held back tears and closed his eyes, memorizing his brothers’ faces.
As Jungin left the house and headed for the museum, raindrops began to fall one by one on the car window, soon turning into a downpour.
“Huh… it’s raining a lot. Do we have an umbrella in the car?”
“They’ll drop us off at the entrance anyway. I’ll just run inside.”
Watching pedestrians pop open umbrellas through the window, Jungin murmured softly.
“I brought one.”
“You knew it would rain? There wasn’t anything in the forecast.”
Not a single cloud had been in the sky earlier; the rain seemed impossible.
“I just… felt like I should bring it.”
“You’re like someone who’s lived twice as long as everyone else. How do you always know these things?”
Jungin asked playfully, joking about reincarnation, but Beomhyeon fell silent.
Jungin stared at him, startled by the prolonged quiet, his lips parting slightly.
As he noticed Beomhyeon’s lips curve downward, the boy finally let out a chuckle.
“That’s impossible,” he replied.
“You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?”
“I’ve been doing that for ages.”
Beomhyeon brushed Jungin’s soft cheek with his fingers, letting his hand linger near the puffy redness around his eyes before pulling away.
Every night, Jungin’s tears soaked his pillow, and the evidence was always there.
Jungin never shared what Madam Jang had said that day.
Sometimes, he stared into the void, and when he met his brothers’ or Beomhyeon’s gazes, he’d flash a reassuring smile.
But that smile only deepened Beomhyeon’s pain.
Why couldn’t he just admit he wasn’t okay?
Why not cry openly and let out the pain weighing on his chest?
Time heals all wounds, they say—but new wounds piled on before the old ones could heal.
The compatibility test results Beomhyeon had sent to the hospital arrived days ago: 72%, a relatively high score.
The report confirmed that imprinting was possible with the help of drugs.
Beomhyeon planned to sync his rut cycle with Jungin’s upcoming heat cycle to attempt the imprinting soon.
Beomhyeon’s gaze lingered on Jungin’s slender neck, which seemed even more fragile these days, as he stepped out of the car first.
“Be careful.”
“You’re the one getting soaked out here!”
Thanks to his broad shoulders and the way he tilted the umbrella to cover Jungin, Beomhyeon was practically drenched.
“It’s fine.”
“What do you mean, fine? You’re so—”
Jungin bit his lip, looking away.
On the hand resting on his shoulder was a scar, one caused by protecting Jungin.
His chest ached.
Just seeing Beomhyeon’s injured hand hurt this much—if Beomhyeon ever faced danger because of his stepmother, Jungin didn’t think he could go on.
“Beomhyeon.”
Jungin stood on tiptoes and kissed him on the lips.
The soft patter of rain hitting the umbrella was the only sound as Beomhyeon’s eyes widened in surprise.
Smiling faintly, Jungin pulled back, his fingertips nervously gripping the hem of Beomhyeon’s shirt.
“You’ve teased me so much… I…”
But before he could finish, Beomhyeon leaned in and kissed him deeply.
The simple contact burned like fire.
Holding Jungin’s waist, he pulled him closer until their body heat melded together.
“Beomhyeon… wait.”
Even with the umbrella, someone might see.
Jungin gently pushed against his shoulders, calling his name, but Beomhyeon held his wrist firmly and exhaled warmly.
“Just a little longer…”
“…”
“Let’s stay like this, just a little longer.”
The husky tone sent shivers through Jungin, whose gaze softened.
His lips parted slightly as Beomhyeon’s face inched closer, and slowly, Jungin let his eyelids flutter shut.
For a fleeting moment, he wished this time under the umbrella would last forever.
“Are you cold?”
Inside the museum, the air conditioning was on full blast to counter the humidity from the rain.
Beomhyeon frowned as he noticed Jungin shivering slightly.
“No, it’s fine. I’m wearing my cardigan, so I’ll warm up soon.”
The brown cardigan Jungin often wore carried his scent strongly and perfectly complemented his soft brown eyes and hair—a look Beomhyeon adored.
Buttoning it up for him carefully, Beomhyeon glanced toward the group gathering further ahead and intertwined his fingers with Jungin’s.
Even in the dim lighting, the engagement ring on Jungin’s left hand caught the light.
Beomhyeon lifted their joined hands and kissed the ring, chuckling at Jungin’s flushed cheeks.
“There are kids from other schools here too. Looks like it’ll be crowded.”
The crowded interior made even moving difficult, and Beomhyeon frowned slightly, raising one eyebrow.
“Yeah… I guess so.”
“Are you feeling unwell?”
From the start, Jungin’s expression hadn’t been great, and Beomhyeon felt concerned.
Reaching out to touch Jungin’s forehead, he was relieved to find no fever and looked down at him, speaking softly.
“If it’s too hard, should we just go home?”
“They told us to submit a reflection with photos. We have to go.”
Jungin tightly grasped Beomhyeon’s hand as if afraid he might pull away, shaking his head.
There wasn’t much time left to be with him like this.
Just a little longer… just like this.
“Alright, let’s go around quickly and head home. Your face is so pale, it’s worrying.”
“Okay… let’s do that.”
With their hands tightly clasped, Jungin followed Beomhyeon step by step, walking slowly.
His gaze remained fixed on Beomhyeon’s back as he led the way, refusing to look away.
He focused on every detail—how Beomhyeon slightly raised his right eyebrow when concentrating, the deep eye sockets that set him apart, the naturally curved lips, and the soft expression of his mouth.
As if trying to commit his face to memory, Jungin only looked away after they exited Building B.
“Hey, Beomhyeon, I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Alright, let’s go.”
“No, I can go alone.”
“No way. I’ll go with you.”
Beomhyeon shook his head firmly, his face resolute.
Jungin knew he wouldn’t be allowed to go alone so easily.
“But the line’s already so long over there.”
Beomhyeon hesitated, looking conflicted as he pressed his lips together.
“Do you think my mother would forcibly drag me away in a crowd like this? If she tries, I’ll just scream.”
“……”
“Please? I’m feeling queasy from the crowd. I’ll be quick.”
Faced with Jungin’s pleading tone and his grip on his arm, Beomhyeon reluctantly gave in, sighing.
He motioned to one of the bodyguards nearby and spoke to Jungin.
“Fine, but I’ll just quickly get the stamp. Don’t go anywhere; wait inside, and come out when I call you.”
“Got it.”
Jungin handed over the paper he’d been holding to Beomhyeon.
“Beomhyeon.”
Hearing Jungin call him from behind, Beomhyeon turned his head mid-stride.
“It’s nothing. Just… see you later.”
Beomhyeon chuckled softly, waving at Jungin before continuing on his way.
Passing through the central hall toward the assembly point, he suddenly froze, struck by a strange, chilling sensation.
Shouldn’t Jungin have said, “See you soon,” instead of “See you later”?
The unsettling thought gripped Beomhyeon like a cold hand around his neck.
A strong urge to check on Jungin overcame him.
Retracing his steps, he immediately called Jungin’s number.
Once, twice… with each ring, the unease in Beomhyeon’s chest grew, tightening like a vice.
“Pick up…”
As time passed, the veins on the back of Beomhyeon’s hand bulged as he gripped his phone tightly.
“Jungin, please. Answer me…!”
But instead of Jungin’s voice, the automated message he dreaded played over the line:
[The customer you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone…]
* * *
Brooo