HMN C18

Chapter 18

“……”

Wait a second—is that his shampoo? Chiwoo’s gaze, which had landed squarely in the right place a moment ago, veered off track again and circled back, settling on the crown of Daeyoung’s head where it met his shoulder. A scent both sweet and faintly dry, like bar soap. Had he dyed his hair recently? From the roots, the strands were a pale brown. If it were natural, wouldn’t that make him mixed? Past the thin pale curve of his ear, below the neatly cropped back of his hair, Chiwoo’s eyes fell on the nape of his neck. The slender white line of it was fine and delicate. With his head bowed, the bone that protruded at the base of his neck stood out sharply. He was skinny.

Realizing how far his thoughts had crept, Go Chiwoo’s straight brows cut sharply downward. Evidently, Ahn Daeyoung had made such a pitiful sight in front of him that even he felt a stir of unsolicited impressions.

The fact that he’d been observing this runt bruised his pride, so he deliberately squinted one eye. The kid, on the other hand, never failed to draw his brows down tight and glare daggers the moment he saw Chiwoo, his face taut with effort.

When was it that he first started fuming at him, as if every one of his blunders were Chiwoo’s fault, picking fights over every little thing? Sometime around then, Chiwoo had begun responding—at least now and then, almost for show. Because it annoyed him, honestly: the way the normally round, gentle eyes sharpened and flared only at him; the way lips that once stammered and hesitated in front of strangers in the clubroom now only sighed heavily whenever he faced them. It was irritating.

“And then here, once this screen pops up, just press pay.”

Stabbing at the POS, Daeyoung didn’t glance back even once. His movements were almost combative—fueled by the desperate will never to explain something twice.

“Got it? You understand?”

Only after finishing his explanation did Ahn Daeyoung’s slightly bright eyes finally lift upward. Go Chiwoo met them with the smallest tilt of his chin. But the expression on Daeyoung’s face crumpled with suspicion. It was obvious he didn’t trust that Chiwoo had been paying attention.

“What did you just do? You were supposed to look here. Not watch something else while I talk.”

As expected, Daeyoung had perfectly caught on that Go Chiwoo hadn’t been focusing on his words. The fact their eyes had locked precisely when Daeyoung looked up had been strange—too exact for coincidence.

It wasn’t a fleeting glance; it had been a stare, direct and unwavering, as though Chiwoo had been watching him all along.

“I was watching.”

Chiwoo’s shameless reply didn’t lessen the narrow sharpness of Daeyoung’s eyes.

“I’ll ask you later.”

The annoying prince who kept dragging his hands around in the middle of peak hours was beyond untrustworthy. Throwing him a sidelong glare, Daeyoung turned at the sound of the boss calling.

“Order, here.”

Still, at least he wasn’t completely useless. Maybe just inexperienced. When Daeyoung planted him properly at the register for the next customer, he seemed to manage decently. With Daeyoung right by his side, arms folded, tossing in occasional corrections, Chiwoo worked just well enough that Daeyoung could finally stand at the machine again. Naturally, though…

“Don’t block the way, move.”

Still no manners whatsoever. The space behind the counter may have been a little wider than usual, but with two large men and Daeyoung bustling around together, it was cramped.

“Can’t you see I’m making smoothies right now? I told you—manage the register instead of wandering everywhere.”

His long legs moved with a careless swing that drew unnecessary attention, brushing close enough to be irritating. When Daeyoung snapped at him about it, Chiwoo only lowered his eyes, shameless as ever.

“There aren’t even customers ordering right now. What—are you putting me in shackles? Do you have control issues?”

The audacity of the retort left Daeyoung swallowing back empty air. Chiwoo’s face only gleamed smugly.

“You… you’re out of your mind, aren’t you?”

“Why? Oh, so should I not drink water or even go to the bathroom until you give permission? Or what—should I go throw myself in the emergency exit again like last time, and then when you start bawling all over again…”

“Argh—quiet, just shut it. Fine. I’ll move. I’ll just move, okay.”

He only yielded, wordless, because time was precious and the busy one couldn’t afford arguments. And yet every now and then afterward, whenever he happened to cross Daeyoung’s path during the shift, Chiwoo’s smug arrogance showed itself again.

“Mrr drnn brrhhn drnnn.”

Don’t come in next time. Muted between clenched teeth, Daeyoung’s whisper was slurred into nonsense as he turned away—he didn’t care if the prince understood or not. But the irritating bastard’s ears were sharp, his wits sharp too.

“Why shouldn’t I? I’m killing it flawlessly with zero mistakes.”

“……”

A twitching smile lit on Daeyoung’s trembling lips. God, that mouth. He wanted to scream: You jabbing the POS a few times isn’t much help at all. If anything, it’s only distracting, keeps piling customers when I’m already drowning, you useless deadweight piece of crap. But behind Chiwoo, the boss was wiping cold sweat, gulping ice water like he’d barely made it through alive. …Forget it. Forget saying anything. Turning away sharply, Daeyoung bit down on his patience and checked the clock. At least the customer flow was dropping finally, the end of closing time near.

“Thank you, come again.”

Ding.

“Haah.”

When the last customer left, it was like a breath of oxygen. Dropping into a chair, Daeyoung sipped hot water to cool himself down.

“God, I’m dead. Let’s close up quick—time to turn off the sign.”

The boss stretched his arms wide and headed out the back door with a heavy load of trash, having slammed the door shut without hesitation. With the music cut off, silence filled the café.

“You clean the machine and counters. I’ll handle the tables.”

Only thoughts of finishing quickly and leaving filled Daeyoung’s head. He bent to pull a rag and disinfectant spray from the cabinet.

“……”

No reply. Not even taking what he handed.

“…You don’t know how, do you?”

Chiwoo brazenly nodded.

“…Unbelievable.”

Of course. Daeyoung, too tired even for annoyance now, pressed the rag and spray into his hands.

“Then you do this part.”

“Never done it before.”

“Oh my god. Your Highness. Do you seriously not even handle the most basic chores at home?”

Surely anyone could at least wipe a table clean. But Go Chiwoo just shrugged, leaving his hands buried in his pockets.

“Why would I, when I hire people for that? If I did it all myself, who would guarantee my housekeeper’s job?”

“Right. Of course. Thank you so very much for creating job opportunities. Now get out of my way.”

I must be insane for even talking to him. In the time wasted on this bickering, he could have finished already. With that, Daeyoung pushed past him. Right, think rationally: he’s only here helping temporarily. He doesn’t get paid. The job is only mine. All mine. Shhht. Spraying disinfectant with a monk’s patience, Daeyoung set about diligently wiping tables.

Screech.

“I’ve got something I need to do, so I’ll head out now. Cleaning’s done, right? Daeyoung, good work today. Be safe on your way back. Chiwoo, you lock up.”

Perhaps still guilty over the earlier mess in the storage room, the boss had been cleaning there through closing. Now, patting dust off his clothes, he left. The fitted t-shirt he wore was smeared all over with stains.

“Yeah.”

“Good night.”

Anyway, almost everything was finished—he only needed to go home now. But Go Chiwoo sat down at a table, opening his laptop. He’s not going home? With a sideways glance, Daeyoung quickly took off his apron, pulled on his knit, and readied his bag.

With just the two of them left in the quiet café, Daeyoung dreaded being seen by a fellow student in such a compromising scene. He packed his things as fast as possible and slung one strap over his shoulder. No “goodbye,” just straight for the exit—until a low call halted his steps.

“Hey.”

His voice itself sounded gruff, unfriendly. Daeyoung turned his head.

“I don’t know how to lock up. You do it.”

“…Then why didn’t you say anything earlier when the boss explained?”

“Because you were here.”

From the start, he was a noble who never dirtied his own hands if someone else could be ordered around. Daeyoung was about to explain how to lock up and leave when Chiwoo cut in.

“Just let me finish this one assignment. Five minutes.”

Flinch. Daeyoung’s brows pulled tightly toward each other, then slowly spread apart again. He seemed to mull it over—then, wordless, dragged a chair well away and sat down.

Scrrrch.

He even dragged one of the neatly stacked chairs across the floor to place himself absurdly far, right in the middle of the café.

“What, am I contagious? Avoiding me like the plague?”

Apparently that bothered him. Fixing his eyes on the laptop, Go Chiwoo’s voice came sharp with displeasure.

“Don’t talk. Just do your work.”

It wasn’t as if they were strangers, but Daeyoung sat diagonally distant, making it plain he didn’t want to be near him. Annoying maybe, but understandable. With the way Daeyoung glared back, as though expecting some kind of explanation, Chiwoo finally snarled.

“What?”

“Ugh—it’s because of the rumors, obviously.”

“What rumors.”

“Ha…”

It must be nice, Daeyoung thought, to be stupidly handsome and never have to worry about things. He tapped his sneakers impatiently against the floorboards. It was a signal to hurry the hell up.

“Anyway, just don’t talk to me.”

His eyes darted toward the window. Honestly, the worst part was that Go Chiwoo was the nephew of the café owner. Daeyoung had agreed to work here without knowing that. Now, with Chiwoo showing up to help out, it looked to outsiders as though Daeyoung had applied just to be near him. Anyone who heard the rumor without context would believe he’d fallen head over heels for Go Chiwoo and taken this job to stalk him. The thought alone made his head spin.

“……”

Chiwoo didn’t speak again. In the silent café, with the lights dimmed and music off, only the sound of his typing echoed faintly. Daeyoung sat checking his calendar on his phone, twisting his aching wrist in circles. I should slap on a medicated patch before bed.

Even so, every time shadows passed the glass outside, he flinched.

He knew perfectly well that paying mind to every rumor would only disadvantage himself. But knowing and doing were separate matters. Some people could brush it all off and live carefree. He wasn’t one of them. For him, every ugly word rooted into memory and stayed, leaving behind only unpleasantness.

Maybe I just look pathetic. Biting down lightly on his lip, he sat in silence.