DrinkyL C7

Chapter 7

After the short meal, Ban Dayeong brought Baek Seolgu back to the officetel. Maybe he’d gotten attached after a few days, because once back, Seolgu relaxed and slipped off his hospital slippers, hurrying into the hall with ease. In contrast, Ban Dayeong remained unmoving at the entrance, not seeming to intend on coming in. When Seolgu looked at him in surprise, Ban Dayeong explained after catching the meaning in his gaze.

“I have to go back to the office.”

“Then dinner…!”

“I’ll have it after I return. Just get some rest.”

As Ban Dayeong turned, barely offering a goodbye, he suddenly pointed at the bag hanging from Seolgu’s wrist. Inside were supplements—iron, multivitamins, calcium, and more that Seolgu needed.

“That, take it now, okay?”

“Ah, yes!”

Seolgu responded brightly and gulped one of the liquid iron supplements.

“Whoa.”

Wow, even medicine tastes good!! Seolgu, finishing the chocolate-flavored iron in three exact sips, grew misty-eyed once again. Ban Dayeong could already predict what he’d say next.

“Should I take two? I should get healthy fast!”

Just as expected. Ban Dayeong firmly shook his head. Having him take two at once wouldn’t really be a problem, but for some reason he didn’t feel like saying yes—maybe it was a whimsical streak.

“No, have the other one at dinner.”

“Ah…!”

The drawn-out answer was overflowing with disappointment. Watching Seolgu’s ever-changing expressions made Ban Dayeong smile—it was fun to tease him.

“The vitamins and calcium are tablets, so take those with water.”

With that brief instruction, he vanished, leaving only a swirl of deep blue mist. There wasn’t even time for a proper farewell.

Alone again in an instant, Seolgu savored the lingering sweet and slightly metallic taste of the iron.

Seolgu gathered his sun-dried terrace laundry to change clothes and washed the hospital gown to hang on the railing. Then he set about cleaning up the beans and plants that Ban Dayeong had thrown aside earlier. Since the landlord hated vegetables on the terrace, that was no longer an option. As he was wandering, looking for something else to do, he heard the beep of an entry code and several people entered.

Startled, Seolgu saw a group of strangers, but was relieved to recognize a familiar face: the vampire who’d been by Ban Dayeong’s side both in the hospital room and at discharge. Their eyes met and Seolgu bowed in greeting, which the man returned with a nod.

“Set it up in the corner, please. Basic settings are in place, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, yes, please hurry.”

After giving directions to the movers with the big machine, the man came over to Seolgu.

“Hello, I’m Yang Hyunsoo, Vice President Ban’s secretary. Just call me Secretary Yang. I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier.”

“Ah…! Yes, hello. I’m Baek Seolgu.”

Should he say, “I’m Ban Dayeong’s blood supply”? Or “I’m his living blood pack”? Aside from his name, Seolgu didn’t know how to introduce himself.

“You’re the vice president’s guest, aren’t you?”

Noticing Seolgu’s awkwardness, Secretary Yang packaged him as “guest” with a neutral expression. Seolgu nodded back. “Guest” felt too grand, but he had no urge to correct him.

“The vice president sent some gifts to help you settle in.”

“Gifts…?”

“Yes.”

Secretary Yang smiled and gestured toward what the workers were installing. Following his finger, Seolgu’s eyes widened in shock. Two kiosks, exactly like the one from the sandwich shop, now stood side by side in the living room.

Is that… a kiosk at home…? In a daze, Seolgu wandered over. The screens, not yet set up, were blank, yet their sheer size made his heart race.

Despite the stress of sandwich ordering, he’d secretly loved tapping the screen and watching the pictures change. With no computer, TV, or even a phone growing up, finger-activated kiosks—where a simple touch transformed everything—were a magical delight.

Maybe Ban Dayeong had somehow known what he wanted? Seolgu’s cheeks flushed pink as he gazed at his new “gift.”

“And take this, too.”

“Yes?”

“It’s a card with some living expenses.”

Secretary Yang handed him a plastic card. Seolgu took it, dazed. It was the same kind Ban Dayeong had inserted at the sandwich shop.

“For now, it’s just for practice, but when you go to a real shop, you’ll need it to pay for food or things.”

“Ah, right. Thank you.”

“I’m just following instructions; thank the vice president, not me.”

“Yes, I will.”

Clutching the card, Seolgu answered. Before Secretary Yang left, Seolgu girded himself not to faint this time by having another iron supplement (not just because he craved the sweet flavor, he assured himself). His mouth still watered at the thought.

Once both kiosks were set, Secretary Yang told him to enjoy and left with the others, and peace returned to the officetel.

But this time, kiosks kept Seolgu company. One kiosk showed a cafe menu; the other, sandwiches—just like the shop earlier. Seolgu cautiously tapped and scrolled through menus, relishing that no one was glaring or urging him from behind.

“Hm hm, hmm hmmm!”

The more Seolgu tapped the screen, the more he hummed, and soon both hands were joyfully drumming on the glass, unaware that Ban Dayeong, home from work, was watching from behind.

“Are you getting the hang of it?”

Gasp!

Startled by the sudden voice, Seolgu flinched hard. Wide-eyed, he turned to see Ban Dayeong waving in greeting.

“Just finished work.”

“Oh, welcome home.”

Flustered, Seolgu spun and bowed. He’d been so absorbed in the pictures, he hadn’t even noticed anyone else near him.

Ban Dayeong strode to Seolgu’s side and looked at the screen. There were so many small fingerprints that the glass was cloudy.

He acts exactly like a dog playing with a single chew toy all day.

Reaching a quick conclusion, Ban Dayeong lightly gripped Seolgu’s shoulder.

“Time for dinner. That’s enough for today.”

“Yes, yes!”

Leading Seolgu to the kitchen, Ban Dayeong carried a paper bag of dosirak—Korean lunchboxes—he’d bought from a Korean set-meal restaurant.

Though he’d lived in the officetel for days, Seolgu had never dared enter the kitchen. One look at the expansive kitchen, far grander than the village chief’s house in the forest, left him gaping.

“Would you get some water out?”

“Oh, yes!”

As Ban Dayeong unpacked the dosirak, Seolgu, busy marvelling at the kitchen, hesitated. He’d answered promptly but had no clue where to find the fridge—there was nothing but white, tidy cabinets.

Seeing Seolgu fidget like a puppy desperate to pee, Ban Dayeong tilted his head.

“You don’t know where the water is?”

“No, um… I don’t know where the fridge is.”

Seolgu admitted as he shook his head. Pondering, Ban Dayeong opened the far left cabinet, revealing a fridge stocked with bottled water and surprising Seolgu anew.

“This is the fridge. By the way, Mr. Baek Seolgu…”

“Yes?”

“Never used the kitchen?”

“No. I didn’t touch anything! I even cleaned up the terrace vegetables you said were messy.”

Seolgu’s eyes trembled, worried that Ban Dayeong thought he’d been wandering around the house unsupervised.

He really had only used the bathroom, terrace, and sofa, terrified even to touch the wallpaper in other rooms.

But Ban Dayeong’s question was really, “How did you make it through several days without eating anything?” Even earlier he’d told him to take the other supplements with water during the day.

“So did you not drink water, either?”

“Excuse me?”

“Can little fairy brats live without water?”

Fairy brat… No matter how many times he heard it, he’d never get used to that rough choice of words.