* * *
“Ugh…”
With a long sigh, Haebom flopped onto the bed.
The neatly arranged blankets gave a soft thump beneath him.
It wasn’t even his bed, but throwing himself onto it like this had become second nature.
Once again, Haebom had woken up in someone else’s bed—not his own.
Ever since he received that confession from Wonho a few days ago, he had tried to sleep in his own room, but it just never worked out.
After all, that room—and this whole house—belonged to Wonho, not him.
“No.”
He could almost hear Wonho’s firm voice in his head.
These days, his thoughts were completely consumed by Wonho.
Actually, could he even say it was just “these days”?
Ever since he arrived in this world, not a day had gone by without thinking about him.
It hadn’t seemed strange before, but recently, it started to feel odd.
Regardless, it was because of Wonho, who flatly refused to let him sleep in the downstairs guest room he had provided, that Haebom continued to stay in his room.
“Agh, so suffocating.”
It wasn’t the room that was stifling.
There was only this one room on the second floor, and it was more than spacious enough for the two of them.
No furniture other than the bed.
Well, now there was one more—his own sofa, which had been brought up from his old room when he moved in here.
That aside, not much had changed.
The thing that was stifling was Haebom himself.
‘Because of those three? Or thanks to them?’
Either way, after realizing how Wonho felt and hearing his confession, Haebom still hadn’t given any sort of reply.
And Wonho, for his part, hadn’t pressured him for one either.
Just from Haebom saying it wasn’t that he hated him, Wonho had said everything was fine.
Even though he had no idea what Haebom was going through…
That alone made Haebom sigh.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Wonho.
In fact, if someone asked him directly whether he liked or disliked him, he leaned heavily toward the “like” side.
If he disliked him, there’s no way he would’ve accepted all of Wonho’s actions.
Haebom liked to think he had simply accepted them out of pity—for everything Wonho had suffered in the past, how he had nearly given up on life without proper guiding.
He thought he was trying to make up for that.
But it didn’t stop there.
“I like him… I like Wonho.”
But he didn’t know if that was really a good thing. That’s what frustrated him.
Haebom wasn’t from this world.
He believed he had to return.
There was no one waiting for him back home, no one who would be sad if he were gone, but still, his entire 21-year life existed there.
His memories, the place he’d scraped together money to build as his safe haven—all of that was in that world.
And more than anything, if he decided not to return and stay by Wonho’s side, would that really be the end of it?
There was always the chance that he could suddenly be sent back, just like how he had suddenly appeared here.
So was it really okay to treat Wonho with a heart that wasn’t fully grounded in this world?
Not that he took his feelings lightly, but he was scared that he might end up hurting Wonho even more.
“Ugh, I just wanna go camping. Watch a fire burn…”
He thought of his favorite hobby—what he did whenever he was overwhelmed or in a bad mood.
One of the biggest regrets of ending up in this world was losing his little home that he’d worked so hard for, and his camping gear he’d collected little by little like a squirrel hoarding acorns.
It wasn’t even at his house, but all left behind at the campsite.
Since he disappeared while walking on a trail, he could only imagine what had happened to it all.
Even if he made it back, it would surely be gone.
Thinking about it made tears well up.
“…Such a waste…”
“What is?”
“AHH!”
Haebom, who had been sprawled out on the bed, shot up in shock.
The door had been open, but he hadn’t heard a single footstep.
Why were Espers always so quiet?
No matter how many times he brought it up, it never changed.
Wonho always found Haebom’s reactions fascinating.
That’s exactly why he kept sneaking in silently, despite Haebom’s pleas for him to at least make some noise.
Seeing him wide-eyed like a startled rabbit was just too adorable…
And he liked seeing Haebom loosen up when he thought he was alone.
Ever since Wonho confessed, Haebom had started acting strangely tense around him.
Wonho liked that Haebom cared enough to be conscious of him—but at the same time, he was a little annoyed, wondering if it was because Haebom didn’t like being around him.
“You’re back early.”
He had just been thinking about his camping gear, but before that, he’d been neck-deep in agonizing over his feelings for Wonho.
The timing made him feel awkward, and he couldn’t quite look Wonho in the eye.
So he averted his gaze.
Then, with a strong presence completely unlike his silent arrival, Wonho stepped closer toward him.
“Yeah. I finished up early so I could come see you. So, what was it? What’s such a waste? Tell me.”
Wonho said it so casually, but Haebom knew just how much he was overworking himself lately.
He wasn’t a field guide, so he didn’t know everything—but he’d overheard some pretty worried comments from Jin Seyoung when he visited the lab today.
Jin hadn’t said it outright, but it felt like he wished Haebom would guide Wonho a little more.
Since the confession, the most intense guiding Haebom had done for Wonho was just a light kiss.
Anything beyond that just didn’t feel right.
He couldn’t even explain it properly—it was this complicated, aching feeling, like his heart was drifting and sinking at the same time.
“If you don’t want to talk, then don’t. Just… don’t make that face either.”
“Huh? Oh—no, it’s nothing serious… I just lost some stuff I’d been collecting. It’s fine, I can buy it again.”
Haebom quickly came up with an excuse, snapping out of it at the sound of Wonho’s gloomy voice.
And as he said it, it really did feel like no big deal.
Sure, some of the gear was expensive and he’d put a lot into gathering it, but it was all replaceable.
Thinking like that, he felt lighter somehow.
If he hadn’t lost that gear, then Wonho—the man sitting right in front of him—would’ve died alone inside the gate.
He didn’t know how or why he’d ended up here, but if nothing else, he was glad for that.
The fact that he could save Wonho.
But even after hearing Haebom’s words, Wonho’s expression didn’t lighten.
“Wonho, come sit here.”
Haebom reached out and pulled Wonho’s arm, bringing him down onto the bed where he was sitting.
Despite Haebom being weaker, Wonho quietly followed along and sat beside him.
“What are you trying to do?”
He always tensed up the moment Haebom tried to touch him, so today’s passivity felt oddly assertive in contrast.
Not that he minded—he’d only held himself back because he didn’t want to make Haebom uncomfortable.
But if Haebom was the one initiating, then… Wonho welcomed it, whatever it was.
* * *
