* * *
“I was pathetic, wasn’t I? Before I manifested, I blamed my family. Afterward, I pretended like it wasn’t me.”
After the long kiss ended and they slowly pulled apart, Wookyung suddenly spoke.
“To be honest… I think I kind of admired them.”
“Admired them?”
“No, I wanted to be like them. That’s more accurate. So I’d read novels with protagonists in situations like mine and convince myself their story was my story. Pretty stupid, huh?”
“Why? Everyone does that.”
Maybe so.
But not everyone suffers memory loss during their manifestation.
That wasn’t exactly common.
Not to mention—he had treated even his own family like strangers.
How disappointed and heartbroken would they be if they knew the truth?
Saheon gently stroked Wookyung’s cheek with a finger.
Honestly, he thought it took a lot of courage for Wookyung to confess everything so openly like this.
Even if he hadn’t said a word, Saheon would’ve still felt the same—as long as Wookyung was beside him.
He never wanted to see that sad expression again.
“Wookyung… do you know something?”
Because of that, he finally decided to speak about something he’d never told anyone before.
“I used to live however I wanted. Dreams? I didn’t care. I figured I could die tomorrow—or even today—and it wouldn’t matter.”
“Why would you…”
Wookyung’s eyes trembled.
Saheon smoothed over his cheek again, then his damp, slightly parted lips.
“Yeah. Why was I like that back then?”
There was a reason.
His parents had died suddenly, and the stable world that had supported him vanished overnight.
The child who had been raised with nothing but love was suddenly left alone in a den of calculating relatives.
They put on kind faces, but what they really wanted was his parents’ inheritance.
If Chairman Choi hadn’t stepped in, they might’ve torn him apart like a pack of wild dogs, leaving him with nothing.
“Pathetically, I thought I had it worse than anyone. Everything felt like a hassle. That’s probably why I ended up like that.”
He didn’t share the messier parts of his story, just that basic fragment.
Even so, Wookyung’s expression grew even more pained.
To have someone who cared for him this deeply—what a precious thing that was.
Especially when that person was someone he loved.
He hoped Wookyung would feel the same.
Sure, he had a supportive family behind him, but selfishly… Saheon wanted to be the one Wookyung leaned on the most.
“Still… isn’t that something everyone goes through?”
Hearing that, Saheon tilted his head.
Watching him closely, Wookyung gave a small smile.
Saheon gave in with a soft laugh.
He could tell Wookyung was echoing his words just to lighten his mood.
“You’re the one who snapped me out of it, you know.”
“Me?”
Wookyung tilted his head like he had no idea what Saheon was talking about.
How could he not remember?
“You told me: just sitting around doing nothing only makes things worse. That I should at least react a little.”
Even now, Saheon remembered that moment clearly.
The glass of water handed to him.
The towel.
The offhanded words.
“Ah…”
Now that he mentioned it, maybe he did say something like that.
Or maybe not.
It had been so long, Wookyung just nodded, uncertain.
“No one ever said anything like that to me before. They were always trying to get something from me, or treating me like I was some piece of broken glass.”
“That’s… anyone could’ve said that, really.”
“Sure. Maybe. But for some reason, it only hit me when you said it. That I couldn’t go on like that.”
“And so you went to the States?”
“Among other reasons, yeah.”
He figured staying here would only feed his relatives’ greed and suspicion.
And around that time, CEO Choi had offered to help him settle in the U.S.
She had bluntly said she wanted what Saheon had—but also that it was only right to take care of her nephew.
What Saheon really needed was a turning point, and it had come at just the right time.
“So, Wookyung… you’re not just an extra in my life. You changed me. Made me the main character. You’re the most important person to me.”
“Saheon… seriously…”
Wookyung felt his heart thump wildly again.
Did he get that line off a cheat sheet?
How was he saying everything Wookyung had secretly hoped to hear?
The fingers running through his hair slipped behind his head, drawing him in.
Realizing what was about to happen, Wookyung closed his eyes.
Just as expected, their lips met again.
As the kiss deepened, Wookyung’s body gradually leaned back.
At some point, something soft cushioned his back.
He didn’t resist the hand slipping under his clothes.
In fact, the shiver in his spine seemed to anticipate what would come next.
That hand traced the soft but firm line of his waist, slid up his straight spine, and grazed the nape of his neck.
The warmth following Saheon’s hand made the kiss even more heated, more consuming.
Soon, their pheromones mingled in the air.
Sweet, fresh, and clean—their scent suited them so well it felt like it was simply part of who they were.
“Should we… move to the bedroom?”
Saheon asked as their lips finally parted, dragging a finger across his own wet lips.
The other hand slid to Wookyung’s throat, caressed his collarbone, and trailed lower to the bulge that had grown from stimulation all night.
Maybe it was the unexpected heat cycle, or maybe it had just been smoldering like embers waiting to catch again.
Even the slightest touch had him burning up fast.
“Wookyung…”
Saheon pressed kisses along the corners of his lips like leaving a stamp, urging him on.
“You said no one’s coming, didn’t you?”
Then why bother going to the bedroom?
The fire was already lit—why not put it out right here?
Their eyes met, and a flash flickered in Saheon’s gaze.
He’d definitely caught on—Wookyung had released his pheromones deliberately, to tempt him.
“Hah… seriously. I can’t win with you.”
But he was smiling—broad and full. It didn’t take long for the kisses to turn into something much more intense, the conversation of their bodies messy and unrestrained.
“They’re not answering the phone.”
As the ringtone cut off and the automated message began, Associate Choi glanced around awkwardly.
Assistant Manager Oh uncrossed his arms and asked,
“They’re staying at this hotel, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
Choi nodded as he dialed the number again.
He had definitely received the name and address of the hotel from Saheon before departure.
They had arrived in Chicago, checked in without any issues, but were now unable to get in touch with the director they were supposed to meet.
Once again, the call went to voicemail, and Choi’s face fell.
“Then ask the front desk to call the room,”
Oh snapped irritably.
It was understandable.
They had left at the crack of dawn, cramped in narrow airplane seats for hours, and had only just made it here.
“I’ll ask.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Unwilling to waste more time in the lobby, Assistant Manager Oh surprisingly stepped forward.
However, they had to wait a moment because a foreign guest was already speaking with the hotel staff.
[Still can’t reach the person in the Presidential Suite?]
Something about the mention of the “Presidential Suite” stuck in Associate Choi’s ear.
[Hi Patrick. Director Choi went out this morning but came back up a little while ago. I haven’t seen the other guy since check-in.]
The staff replied casually, seemingly familiar with the guest.
[Really? He didn’t look too well earlier, so I guess he just decided to rest. Got it. Thanks.]
The foreign guest cheerfully handed a canned drink to the staff in a friendly gesture.
Then he pulled out his phone and made a call.
[Yeah, it’s me. Looks like I won’t be doing any more work today. The omega I came with suddenly went into heat, and Director Choi looks totally out of it. Yeah, it’s that guy—tall, cold-looking, and gorgeous.]
Associate Choi, who had been mindlessly opening a message app, suddenly lifted his head.
Something about this had been nagging at him for a while.
It felt like they were talking about people he knew.
[His lover? Hmm. Maybe? Maybe not? I’ve only ever done business with Director Choi, so I wouldn’t know.]
At last, a name he recognized slipped out of the foreigner’s mouth.
* * *
