* * *
When he grabbed Ben’s hand, he had the urge to swallow him whole in one go.
The influence a Guide had over an Esper’s body was overwhelming enough to spark such an impulse in an instant.
But Haimar forcefully suppressed the desire.
Even if his rationality wasn’t as sharp as usual, it was still functioning properly inside his mind.
He was someone who had always seized whatever he wanted, without caring about promises or trust.
But this time, he hadn’t.
Because Ben Plaskun trusted Haimar Elec.
At least, that was the only explanation that made sense—to Haimar, anyway.
It wasn’t nearly enough, but for now, focusing on this sensation wouldn’t be a bad thing.
In fact, the sharpness in his aura had softened a little.
Haimar stared straight ahead for a moment before closing his eyes briefly.
Regardless of what Haimar was thinking, from Ben’s perspective, the man’s back looked incredibly steadfast.
Broad shoulders, a firm, well-defined back, and a neck that stood out between strands of platinum blond hair—he was sexy, even from a man’s point of view.
But admiration didn’t last long.
Switching between his left and right hands, Ben was trying to be mindful, but he was just an ordinary person.
His fingers inevitably started to ache.
The cold, tense energy that had surrounded Haimar when they first arrived at the apartment had faded significantly.
But knowing how quickly this man’s attitude could change, Ben kept glancing at him warily, tilting his head slightly.
At this point, his movements had lost all their original massage function and were now just a half-hearted effort to keep going.
He couldn’t bring himself to stop, but starting a conversation felt awkward too.
Ben, still seated comfortably, quietly pulled up his knees and turned slightly to look at Haimar’s face.
…Is he asleep?
This was an unexpected turn of events.
Wasn’t he the one who said he wasn’t going to sleep?
Unable to bring himself to speak, Ben hesitated, then waved his hand in front of Haimar’s face.
The long platinum eyelashes trembled slightly in response.
Oh no—don’t wake up!
Ben quickly withdrew his hand and resumed massaging his shoulders.
The eyelashes, which had seemed on the verge of fluttering open, settled again.
At this point, Ben had inadvertently proven the effectiveness of today’s massage lesson, though he wasn’t sure if he should be happy about it.
It was good that Haimar was finally resting, but it also created a problem.
Whenever Ben tried to lift his hands away, Haimar seemed like he was about to wake up.
But if he kept moving, even in a mechanical way, Haimar’s shallow sleep remained undisturbed.
…Is this happening because I’m his Guide?
The idea that just his touch could influence Haimar’s mood and condition didn’t feel real yet.
But if guiding had truly relaxed him, then Ben couldn’t just stop and leave him hanging.
Ben was thoroughly troubled.
He had no idea that anyone else witnessing Haimar in such a defenseless state would have found it utterly unsettling.
Not knowing this, Ben simply sighed at his own unfortunate circumstances.
From the side, Haimar’s face was like a carefully sculpted masterpiece, with a high nose bridge and a sharp jawline.
If not a statue, then at the very least, a beautifully crafted doll. His looks were mercilessly perfect.
Ben had never been called ugly in his life, but he also didn’t think of himself as particularly handsome.
His only redeeming qualities were his slightly above-average height and an athletic body.
But compared to an Esper, the difference was like heaven and earth.
Ben spent over twenty minutes observing and comparing himself to Haimar like this.
Sitting behind him the whole time made him sleepy, so he absentmindedly twisted a lock of Haimar’s platinum hair around his fingers, brushing through the silky strands without much thought.
If Haimar were awake, he’d never dare to do this, but drowsiness made him reckless.
Ben convinced himself that this was all just an attempt to stay awake.
Ugh… so sleepy.
His hands, which had been moving lazily, slowed down even more.
Trying to shake off the sleepiness, Ben rubbed his eyes and forced them open a few times, but he couldn’t stop a yawn from escaping.
The more his tension faded, the more sluggish he became.
He briefly considered just lying down and sleeping properly.
But his conscience wouldn’t allow it, so he hesitated with his hand still resting on Haimar’s shoulder.
Maybe just five minutes…
Ben was weak when it came to sleep.
He was the type who struggled to wake up in the morning and often staggered around like a zombie.
Once asleep, he rarely woke up until his usual morning alarm.
He also fell asleep easily, no matter where he was.
But since he wasn’t lying down, just sitting up, he figured he’d wake up quickly.
A naive assumption, influenced by the temptation of sleep.
After all, people always make ambitious plans, only to repeat the same mistakes.
Five minutes should be fine…
For someone who only planned to nap for five minutes, Ben took no precautions to wake himself up.
His head quickly dropped forward, landing heavily against Haimar’s back.
Who knows how long passed.
Less than five minutes after Ben’s hands stopped moving, Haimar opened his eyes.
“……”
His eyelids felt heavy.
It was hard to believe, but he had actually dozed off.
It wasn’t long—maybe fifteen or twenty minutes.
It wasn’t deep sleep, but considering how little he usually rested, it was a rare experience.
As Haimar straightened his back, the weight leaning against him slipped off.
He turned his head just in time to see Ben’s face flop straight onto the bed.
It was amusing.
Haimar could easily guess that the idiot had been hesitating back and forth before finally dozing off.
“…Wake up.”
He called Ben’s name softly.
But there was no response.
Not even a twitch.
Reaching out, Haimar pressed his palm against Ben’s cheek.
Warm.
Unlike his own perpetually cool skin, Ben’s body temperature was slightly higher, making it feel oddly pleasant.
Ben, still lost in sleep, instinctively leaned into the touch.
Haimar froze for a moment at the unexpected reaction.
Then, as if testing the texture, he lightly pinched Ben’s cheek with his thumb.
The sensation must have startled him, as Ben instinctively turned his head away.
But Haimar easily let go, shifting his fingers instead to stroke the shell of Ben’s ear and his earlobe in turn.
“You should sleep properly.”
His deep voice murmured near Ben’s ear.
But all Ben did was flinch slightly before settling back into deep sleep.
Because of that, Haimar gently stroked Ben’s face for quite some time.
When Ben tried to pull his hand away, he instead gripped Haimar’s wrist as if he couldn’t sleep without it, showing no intention of letting go.
Moreover, he frowned and groaned, seemingly uncomfortable in his crumpled sleeping posture.
“…You have more sleeping habits than I expected.”
Eventually, Haimar wrapped his free arm around Ben’s shoulder and pulled him closer, effortlessly shifting him toward the head of the bed.
For an average person, moving a fully grown man would have been quite a task, but Haimar did it as if he were simply relocating a piece of luggage.
He even went as far as positioning Ben on the pillow with a certain degree of kindness.
Yet, he didn’t bother prying away the hand that was clutching his as if it were some kind of treasure.
From Haimar’s perspective, if it were bothersome, he could have just shaken him off.
But upon seeing the way Ben’s face eased into comfort, he didn’t feel the need to.
Since pulling his hand away would have made him uncomfortable as well, Haimar inadvertently ended up lying down next to him.
His body felt more settled than before, but not to the extent that he could sleep.
So, instead, Haimar just watched the man in front of him.
Left undisturbed, Ben went a step further, inching his way into Haimar’s arms, squirming around as if searching for the most comfortable spot.
He fidgeted quite a bit, shifting restlessly.
“Aren’t you a little too defenseless?”
Haimar murmured as Ben, still gripping his hand tightly, wriggled in his embrace.
Normally, Ben would have responded immediately with a polite but exasperated retort.
But right now, he was nothing more than a grumbling, drowsy mess.
Eventually, when his movements ceased, he was practically nestled in Haimar’s arms.
This will be something to see when he wakes up.
The strands of hair brushing against Haimar’s chin carried a faint scent—like milk, reminiscent of a fearless newborn.
It didn’t quite suit a grown man, yet, oddly enough, it fit Ben.
Enjoying the soft sensation of Ben’s hazelnut-colored hair tangled around his fingers, Haimar gently stroked it.
That seemed to settle Ben’s sleep-twitching.
As he brushed away the strands covering Ben’s face, a neatly closed, serene pair of eyes came into view.
A diligent man who didn’t know how to cut corners, too kind for his own good, willing to suffer losses yet still doing his job properly.
And the only person whose thoughts Haimar couldn’t read.
Despite having company, it was the quietest moment he had ever experienced.
In this room, where even the ticking of a clock was absent, the only sound was Ben’s soft, steady breathing.
That was all.
Truly, that was all.
And so, for the first time, Haimar Eilec realized that the world wasn’t always so noisy.
* * *
