* * *
BANG!
It felt like thunder was crashing inside his skull.
Or maybe it actually was.
If he was lucky, perhaps reality itself was collapsing to erase him from existence after the disaster he had caused while drunk.
‘But there’s no way there’s actual thunder in my head, right?’
Haebom scrunched up his face and shut his eyes tightly, refusing to open them.
He didn’t care how ridiculous he looked right now.
‘I mean, seriously, how does someone get this drunk without even drinking a full glass? How is that even possible?’
Last time he had alcohol, he’d downed three or four shots of soju and was still fine.
A little tipsy, sure, but not to the point of blacking out or doing something reckless.
Yet this time, he hadn’t even had half a mug—just a few tiny sips.
And still, the aftermath was a complete disaster.
“…I didn’t even get to talk to Wonho properly. I just did a bunch of weird shit—”
“What exactly did you want to talk about?”
“AAAHH!!”
A sudden voice made Haebom’s eyes fly open as he let out a scream.
The moment he did, Wonho’s brows furrowed even deeper.
He had been keeping an eye on Haebom, waiting for him to wake up.
When he noticed his breathing pattern shift, he figured he was close to waking up.
But instead of just getting up like a normal person, Haebom had muttered something to himself, and now he was screaming.
Watching the scene unfold, Wonho firmly decided that he would never let Haebom drink again as long as he was in this house.
In fact, he had already taken the remaining alcohol back to the lab at dawn.
It was a highly potent liquor that could disrupt an Esper’s nervous system—if it leaked out, it could cause serious problems.
The research center wasn’t the only place in the world that wanted to get their hands on Espers, so it was best to be cautious.
“How… How long have you been there?”
“…That’s not important. What did you want to talk about?”
At Haebom’s question, the crease between Wonho’s brows deepened further.
He didn’t want to admit that he had been watching him since returning from the lab early in the morning.
Feeling oddly defensive, he made his voice even colder and gestured toward Haebom with a small tilt of his chin.
“…I wanted to ask why you won’t accept my guiding. Why do you keep avoiding me?”
Even as he spoke, Haebom felt increasingly wronged.
‘What the hell did I even do to deserve being avoided like this?’
The truth was, Haebom hadn’t done anything wrong.
All he had done was drag a reckless, rampaging idiot out of a Gate.
If Wonho had truly wanted to die, he might have resented Haebom for saving him.
But the reality was, Wonho didn’t actually want to die.
He had simply given up because he didn’t see another way to survive.
So, while Wonho had initially been furious at Haebom for pulling him out of the Gate, he had never blamed him.
In fact, now that the anger had subsided, he even felt grateful to him for not letting him give up so easily.
But that gratitude… It was too overwhelming to put into words.
Being near Haebom only made it worse.
Even now, just having him close was enough to make him feel at ease—while simultaneously making his lower body ache.
And after what had happened last night, it was impossible not to recall it.
That was why Wonho kept his distance, keeping a solid gap between them.
“…I never avoided you.”
“You seriously believe that?”
Haebom looked at him in disbelief.
Everyone knew that Wonho had been avoiding him—anyone in Jin Seyoung’s research team could tell you that.
Even among the other guides, rumors had already begun to spread.
It was inevitable.
After all, it wasn’t every day that someone like Yoon Haebom suddenly appeared in place of the A-rank guide Choi Yoonseo.
And on top of that, he was paired with Wonho?
It was only natural that people would start talking.
But Haebom himself had been unaware of all this.
Since he didn’t interact much with the other guides, he hadn’t realized he was the center of attention.
He only found out because the guide assigned to train him had casually mentioned that there were already plenty of rumors about him constantly chasing after Wonho.
‘Well, of course there are. If an Esper keeps running away from their paired guide, how couldn’t there be rumors?’
“Yeah. So stop doing unnecessary things. You don’t even know your own alcohol tolerance—why the hell did you drink? And from what I heard, no one even gave it to you. Stop picking up random things and drinking them.”
In the week since he’d met Wonho, this was the longest he had ever heard him talk in one go.
Aside from their first day, they had barely had a proper conversation.
And yet, the longest thing he had ever said to Haebom was a damn lecture.
Haebom shook his head in exasperation.
“…So why the hell are you running awa—HEY! Where are you going?!”
“…Training.”
Wonho muttered under his breath, grumbling about why he even had to explain himself, before abruptly leaving the house.
Left alone, Haebom stared blankly at the door he had disappeared through.
‘Well… At least we had a conversation this time?’
He sighed, already dreading the report he had to give to Jin Seyoung.
He groaned as he pushed himself up.
“Ugh! Shit!”
The moment Haebom lifted himself off the sofa, he let out another sharp scream at the sight before his eyes.
At this rate, his vocal cords wouldn’t survive, but he had no time to worry about that.
As the blanket that had been covering him slid off, the horrifying scene beneath it was fully exposed.
He finally saw just how bare his lower half was, and the realization hit him so hard that he collapsed back down, hiding his face in his arms with a distressed expression.
But he couldn’t stay like this forever.
If he kept sitting here like this, the shame might actually make him run away—not Wonho, but himself.
Even though he technically couldn’t run anywhere since he was now bound to the center, that was the least of his concerns.
Pushing aside his urge to break down and cry, he forced himself to head to the bathroom to wash up.
There was only one door on the second floor, so he couldn’t help but wonder—where did that guy shower?
But there was no one around to answer that question.
This strange cohabitation, where he couldn’t tell if they were living together or separately, seemed like it was going to continue.
“Ah, it stings…”
He had been too overwhelmed on the sofa to notice, but now that he was in the bathroom, he could clearly see the redness on his thighs.
Just how much friction had there been for them to turn this red?
His brows knitted together instinctively.
The more he thought about how much pain he was in, the more Wonho’s unaffected expression from earlier came to mind, and his teeth clenched in irritation.
To make things worse, checking his gear confirmed that his berserk levels had gone down.
* * *
