Belying the confusion and conflict that had plagued him for so long, the first emotion he felt upon seeing him was gladness. Dumbfounded and drained by his own reaction, Yeehyeon lowered his head and let out a short, hollow laugh.
Was it that blood is thicker than water? Or that the body is honest?
Of course, neither phrase was meant to describe a situation like this. But setting aside the fierce battle being waged between his head and his heart, Yeehyeon somehow thought of those words in the face of his body’s immediate reaction to him.
The next thought that came to him was how out of place he looked here.
Liu was dressed in jeans, a plain t-shirt, a simple jacket, and sneakers, but even so, it was a stylish outfit that stood out in this place. Though there wasn’t a single person passing by due to the foul weather, his foreign looks and towering height were more than enough to draw the attention of the people here.
He had come here not to make him anxious, but to do what he had to do. Still, it would be a lie to say he hadn’t imagined, not even once, that Liu might come looking for him. In his imagination, he had averted his gaze, unable to make a decision. The fantasy always ended there.
But in reality, he could look right at his face. It didn’t feel real that he was here, in this place Yeehyeon had passed through every morning and evening on his way to school, the place where he, Morae, and Yeehan had always loitered. He couldn’t take his eyes off him, as if watching a movie character who had walked right off the screen.
Walking toward Yeehyeon at a pace that was neither fast nor slow, he pulled up the corners of his firm mouth into an awkward smile.
“Have you… been well?”
He was clean-shaven and his hair was neatly styled, but up close, his face was a wreck. His skin was rough and his eyes were sunken. Not to mention he had grown so thin that his jawline was even more pronounced.
“It’s only been a few days, so is that a strange greeting?”
As he said this, rubbing a wide area around his chin, he was trying to create an unremarkable, calm atmosphere, but he couldn’t hide his tension and caution.
“I didn’t think you’d be able to make it, so… I canceled our dinner plans for tonight.”
He seemed to have tossed it out like a lighthearted joke, but Yeehyeon couldn’t laugh. At Yeehyeon’s continued silence, he let out a small sigh and squinted under the gloomy, dark clouds.
“Can you spare me a moment?”
Yeehyeon looked back at his father standing beside him.
“You go on ahead. I’m just going to talk for a bit and then I’ll be on my way.”
“……”
His father’s gaze turned to Liu. But no particular emotion surfaced in that gaze.
Would it be polite to offer a greeting, or would it be an unfitting gesture for the situation? Liu, who seemed to be contemplating with a complex expression, took a step forward and bowed his head respectfully. It was the first time Yeehyeon had seen Liu bow his head in greeting, rather than offering a handshake.
“Hello, I am Liu Weikun, the director of the gallery Seo Yeehyeon is affiliated with.”
“……”
Watching his father’s profile as he stared at Liu’s face with a blank expression, Yeehyeon took the first step and said to Liu.
“Let’s go.”
But before he had taken even two or three steps, Yeehyeon’s wrist was pulled back. Yeehyeon’s startled eyes turned to his father. It wasn’t a strong pull, but his father was pulling him back.
“……”
His father took a step closer, closing the distance that had opened between them. He unwrapped the muffler Yeehyeon had put on him and, this time, wrapped it around Yeehyeon’s neck. In that moment, he wasn’t even conscious of Liu’s presence right beside him.
His father’s eyes were still closed off, his emotions unreadable. He still didn’t utter a single word. But he had been listening to his story all this time. His father knew who this man with the cloudy blue eyes who had shown up so suddenly was. And perhaps… he was worried about the hurt his son might receive after following this man.
His father’s blunt fingertips squeezed the end of the muffler once, then let go. He then took one of the two umbrellas from Yeehyeon’s hands, lightening his load, and slowly turned to start up the hill.
Yeehyeon couldn’t take his eyes off his father’s back until he disappeared around the corner.
He didn’t take this as a resolution or a reconciliation. If anything, this might be the beginning of a fierce conflict. But that conflict was the very trial he should have passed through with his body long ago to reach resolution and forgiveness. Without it, not only resolution and forgiveness, but also the act of engraving his scars into his identity, was impossible.
“If there’s somewhere we can talk quietly, let’s go there.”
At Liu’s voice, Yeehyeon slowly turned his head. In a small country town like this, his appearance was too conspicuous. It was obvious that wherever they went, they would be the center of attention. Tucking his chin into his muffler, he spoke quickly in a calm voice.
“It’s better if we just talk in the car. Let’s go somewhere else.”
The raindrops, which had rapidly increased one by one on the way, had become a torrential downpour by the time they reached the coast. The rain was as fierce as it had been threatening to be all day.
After stopping at the shopping arcade at the beach entrance, Liu ran into a convenience store and bought two cups of takeout coffee. Then, as Yeehyeon had instructed, he slowed down and gradually turned onto a side path at the edge of the beach. It was the spot where you could park closest to the sea.
“My Hyung and Noona always surfed here. I… I spent my time sitting over there, watching them.”
Yeehyeon said, pointing to the sandy beach in front of the arcade.
“You should have tried it once.”
Remembering Morae’s suggestion, who had asked him so many times if he wanted to be taught, Yeehyeon gave a faint smile and fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands.
“I know. It was such a long time, I should have tried it at least once.”
A long silence followed that remark. Yeehyeon looked at the beach stretching out to his right, and Liu looked at Yeehyeon’s profile. Both of them only brought the coffee to their lips from time to time, as if the thought had just occurred to them.
The silence, surprisingly, was not toxic or sharp. But it was not the same comfortable silence as before, when they had accepted each other without any pressure or awkwardness to say something. They were not seized by intense emotions like when they had clashed at Phantom, but neither were they at a point where all emotions had vanished and they could look at each other and smile.
“The medicine you took after seeing Choi Inwoo, before you went to Chicago.”
At Liu’s voice, which pushed away the silence, Yeehyeon slowly turned his head toward him. The muscles in his jaw were clenched tight as he looked down at the coffee cup he held on his thigh.
“Most of it was nutritional supplements… but there was a very mild suppressant mixed in. I had to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.”
“I heard from Inwoo-hyung.”
“……”
Liu’s face snapped toward Yeehyeon. It was a quick reaction. As if he had done it unknowingly, he bit his lip as if in regret and lowered his gaze again.
Liu, who had told him to keep his phone on, had never once called. He didn’t want to try to understand or empathize with him, and yet… he could guess how he felt, why he couldn’t call. So he hadn’t waited.
Inwoo, on the other hand, had called once a day. He had considered not answering, wanting to focus solely on his problems here, but it was hard to shake off the curiosity that he might hear news about Liu.
He hadn’t hoped for him to come, nor had he wished for him to call, but at the same time, he was curious about what kind of time he was having. He had felt estranged from himself, revealing an unsettling contradiction, like someone who claims not to be interested but keeps glancing over.
Inwoo had repeatedly apologized for his surprise kiss and had said, apologetically, that he had told Liu about it. But Liu, while reacting sensitively to the name Inwoo, didn’t try to confirm anything by bringing up the kiss.
The downpour showed no sign of letting up.
The pouring rain, which made him feel as if he were standing in it without an umbrella, reminded him of the day they had hot pot for a wrap party after returning from Hong Kong. The car Liu had driven him home in then was also this SUV. His thoughts naturally drifted to Liu, who had silently embraced him when he had gone to his house after meeting his grand-uncle.
Liu, who had been silent for a while, took a deep breath, his chest swelling and then slowly deflating. Yeehyeon stopped his thoughts and drank a little coffee.
“I’m not sure if anything I say can lessen your pain even a little, but… I thought that just keeping my mouth shut because I don’t even have the right to ask for forgiveness isn’t a very good response either.”
He deliberately avoided looking at his face. He scratched the surface of the paper cup with his fingertip, waiting for the words Liu had likely prepared in pain, without proper sleep or food.
“I couldn’t stop.”
“……”
“I knew it was a grave mistake, and unlike what Choi Inwoo or Shushu thought, I wasn’t even confident I could make you understand. But why I couldn’t stop, I still don’t understand it myself, then or now… I was that foolish and reckless.”
After a short sigh, he continued.
“I wanted to make you an Omega, but more than that, I… wanted to be your Alpha. I know it just sounds like an excuse, but that’s probably the honest reason.”
Placing the paper cup in the holder, Liu rested his hands on the steering wheel.
“The intense sexual response and the blind, guard-dog-like protective instinct that Betas can’t even imagine… I found those Alpha traits toward Omegas barbaric and humiliating, so I trained harder than anyone to become a Golden, but if the one who made me that way was you, I wanted to willingly, voluntarily, put that leash on myself.”
As if to prove that these were words that had been sifted through a sieve many times until only his naked self remained, his voice trembled but was not emotional. He could feel him strongly suppressing his emotions whenever they threatened to flow in and mix with his words.
“For the first time, I was able to feel joy in the fact that I was an Alpha, capable of a love that transcends the love between Betas, a love bound at a more primal level beyond conversation and emotional exchange… but realizing myself as an Alpha while learning about love was just my side of the story. You’re a Beta. You would have wanted to love me as a Beta.”
His hand, gripping the top of the steering wheel tightly, came into view. In response, Yeehyeon’s own hand, holding the paper cup, tightened.
“I’ve lived my life scoffing that there’s no sentiment as flimsy as a promise of a lifetime, but as Shushu said, I guess I can’t help it either.”
Letting out a dry laugh, he turned his body slightly toward Yeehyeon.
“Everything I’ve said to you until now, I meant every word.”
“……”
“For the rest of my life, no one will ever know what my pheromones smell like. Only you can make me an Alpha, and make me accept myself as an Alpha. My reason, my emotions, and beyond that, the very essence of my body, are yours for life.”
Though the content was grand, he did not speak it like an orator. He was, if anything, humble, as if there were no story more trivial and shabby than this.
Only then did Yeehyeon raise his head and meet Liu’s face.
“I’m not saying this to be forgiven, but simply, this is my offering to you. Even if you don’t accept it, I have no choice but to give it to you….”
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