* * *
He couldn’t imagine being close with his own brothers without feeling sick at the thought… though that was just part of his character in Cha Dowon’s story.
“If you’re jealous, I could adopt you as a little brother too. How about Baek Yeongdeok?”
“Seems like you’re feeling better, spouting nonsense like that.”
“No, I’m still in pain. My head, my shoulders… Could you give me a massage, Cha Yeongdeok?”
“Stop with the theatrics.”
Seonwoo pretended to moan in pain but soon burst into laughter, making Yeongdeok wonder if he really had injured his head.
“Cha Yeongdeok, I need to go to the bathroom.”
Seonwoo reached his hands out, expecting help to get up.
Yeongdeok grumbled internally, yet he grabbed Seonwoo’s hands and pulled him up.
At that moment, Seonwoo suddenly leaned forward, wrapping his long arms around Yeongdeok’s neck.
Startled by the sudden weight, Yeongdeok nearly shook him off but hesitated.
Despite being a pain, Seonwoo was still injured and unable to stand on his own.
“If you don’t want to be sued, maybe you should let go and sit in your wheelchair.”
“But it’s cold. Share some of your warmth, Cha Yeongdeok.”
“If you’re cold, turn off the air conditioning and use a blanket. Don’t go grabbing people.”
“So harsh.”
Seonwoo held on but didn’t move in any inappropriate way—no rubbing against him or anything of the sort.
If he had, Yeongdeok might have actually pushed him away, patient or not.
As their bodies pressed closely together, Seonwoo’s gentle rise and fall of his chest became fully perceptible to Yeongdeok, accompanied by the clear, rhythmic beat of Seonwoo’s heart.
Sharing sensations as if they were his own, Seonwoo finally broke away and awkwardly made his way to a nearby wheelchair.
“Alright, then. Let’s be off, Cha Yeongdeok.”
“I’d appreciate it if you stopped treating me like your servant.”
Though grumbling, Yeongdeok began pushing the wheelchair toward the restroom.
As they moved through the hallway, Seonwoo wore an expression reminiscent of a child riding in a grocery cart, seemingly oblivious to his status as a patient.
ꔚ
Several days passed, and the evening before Seonwoo’s discharge arrived.
As other patients settled in for sleep, Yeongdeok pulled a makeshift bed closer and sat on it.
“I suppose I should thank Baek Cheongang for pushing things along. Thanks to him, I got the honor of being taken care of by Cha Yeongdeok all this time.”
“Stop talking nonsense and go to sleep.”
The lights went out, and Yeongdeok lay down on the bed.
Even in the silent darkness, sleep evaded him.
He tried closing his eyes, hoping for rest, when Seonwoo’s voice reached him.
“Cha Yeongdeok. You awake?”
Seonwoo’s voice was low and soft as he called his name.
“I’m not asleep.”
“I thought you had dozed off since it got so quiet.”
“Why are you calling me?”
Yeongdeok turned over, facing Seonwoo, whose gaze met his as he looked back.
Maybe it was the faint light coming in from outside or the bright moonlight, but Yeongdeok thought he saw Seonwoo’s irises shimmer.
“To be honest, as I fell down the stairs, I thought of you.”
The fight between Seonwoo and his father, Baek Cheongang, had started as nothing significant.
Cheongang, as usual, suggested he quit playing the piano, and Seonwoo had simply expressed his refusal.
But the argument grew intense, and in a moment of fury, his father pushed him—and unfortunately, there happened to be stairs right behind him.
In that split second, scenes with Yeongdeok flashed through Seonwoo’s mind.
Despite there being more bitter memories than good ones, the moment they played the piano together in the practice room left the strongest impression.
He couldn’t shake the image of Yeongdeok, who once worriedly told him to treat his hands as if they were more precious than life itself.
For the sake of that concern, Seonwoo wanted to keep playing, to continue sharing music with Yeongdeok.
Perhaps because he had protected his hands with such fierce resolve, or maybe he’d just been lucky, Seonwoo had escaped with only an injured ankle.
At one point, he’d even thought of Cha Yeongdeok as a demon hell-bent on ruining his life.
Yet now, it was hard to believe he had once felt that way, considering how much he was relying on Yeongdeok.
It made him wonder why this man, who used to seem so irritated by him, was now caring for him so attentively.
“Cha Yeongdeok, there’s something I want to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Why do you keep putting up with me, even though I annoy you? Why do you care about my hands?”
A faint hope lingered in Seonwoo’s trembling voice.
Deep down, Yeongdeok knew that his every action was for PetitRorang’s sake; he was certain there was no other reason.
Yet Seonwoo continued his questioning.
“You could have just gone back home… so why did you stay by my side?”
“…”
“Is there really no reason behind the things you do for me? Maybe you don’t realize it yourself, but perhaps…”
“Just shut up and get some sleep.”
Yeongdeok turned back around, closing his eyes.
Seonwoo seemed to sense that he’d been too loud, for he fell silent.
Though sleep still didn’t come easily, Yeongdeok tried to rest, feeling a strange restlessness in his heart.
ꔚ
On a day when cicadas buzzed in the heat and the sunlight was at its peak, Seonwoo was finally discharged.
Yeongdeok felt a mixture of relief at not having to see him anymore, but a strange feeling settled as he considered having to face Jihoon once he returned home.
He was sure he didn’t have romantic feelings for Jihoon.
Saying no to him should be easy, yet a part of him felt unsettled at the thought of pushing Jihoon away.
Perhaps it was just another way of manipulating emotions to sabotage the original story.
Once again, Yeongdeok felt oddly cold-hearted.
“So, I guess I won’t be able to receive any more nursing from you, Cha Yeongdeok. What a pity.”
Seonwoo, having packed all his things, murmured as he waited for his third brother to come pick him up.
“I feel nothing of the sort.”
“Thank you. Taking care of someone is no easy task, yet you stayed by my side.”
For some reason, Seonwoo’s tone turned earnest as he expressed his gratitude, to which Yeongdeok simply nodded in acknowledgment.
In response, Seonwoo rolled his wheelchair closer.
“Cha Yeongdeok, despite everything, you’re the one who’s been there when I needed it the most.”
“…”
“You were my greatest comfort—during the recital, and now.”
Seonwoo’s eyes softened with a warm smile.
Yeongdeok thought his fresh, unclouded expression blended perfectly with the bright summer sky.
“Yeongdeok.”
“What is it?”
Without a hint of formality, Seonwoo’s expression and voice fell into a serene calm.
The atmosphere surrounding them grew still.
“I don’t think you’re doing all this for no reason.”
“…”
“So, with that in mind, I’m going to say this.”
With a deep breath, Seonwoo straightened his shoulders, tension evident yet a powerful resolve shining in his eyes.
Seonwoo recalled the day he first met Yeongdeok.
He’d harbored feelings for a long time… memories of Yeongdeok from childhood to the present flowed through his mind, culminating in the moment he’d longed for.
What he once thought had died was alive again, this time even stronger than before, like a spark reignited.
Someone once said love and hate are only a hair’s breadth apart; he now understood that sentiment.
Speaking for his past self, for the confession he couldn’t voice then, Seonwoo whispered to Yeongdeok:
“I like you, Yeongdeok.”
* * *
Ahhhhh
Are all the confessions gonna flow at once?
Thanks