NLFSD Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

“Assistant Manager Lee. What happened in Jeju?”

“Oh, I just had way too much fun. I really enjoyed myself until the very end.”

Lee Jiwoon forced a smile.

“I see. I got a rough report from the local staff.”

“Huh? A report?”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to receive the final report, after all.”

“Ah…”

Lee Jiwoon scratched his head.

How much did he hear? Does he know I didn’t choose anyone and the final selection fell through? That I didn’t seem interested in Alpha No. 2 or anything else… could he know that too?

While Jiwoon was lost in thought, Seo Taecheon took off his watch.

“Well then, I’ll go take a shower.”

“Oh, okay.”

He loosened his tie and walked toward the bathroom. Jiwoon felt indescribably restless, his mind tangled in complexity.

I want him to know that I didn’t pick anyone. And if you had stayed, maybe my choice would have been…

Without realizing it, Jiwoon’s face turned a faint crimson as he pouted his lips.

While Seo Taecheon was in the shower, Jiwoon opened the fridge and took out a box of herbal medicine. He tore open a pouch, poured the liquid into a cup, and heated it lightly in the microwave. Once it was done, a savory yet slightly bitter scent filled the air.

Hmm. This medicine has a strangely mystical charm. Maybe it’s just me, but it feels like my energy’s surging and my appetite’s back too.

“If it’s good for the body, taking more should be fine, right?”

Although his mother had told him to take just one packet a day, Jiwoon thought good things were meant to be enjoyed.

Swoosh.

He lifted the cup and took a sip.

“Ahhh.”

The mug, as dark as its owner, showed no sign that he’d drunk from it. Jiwoon took two more sips while he was at it. That’s when Seo Taecheon stepped out of the bathroom.

Oddly enough, instead of his usual black robe, he was wearing a white T-shirt and comfortable-looking pants.

Not in Jeju, not here—he’s stopped wearing black robes lately? Still, when you’ve got a physique like that, anything you wear looks good. Lucky guy.

As Jiwoon stared at Seo Taecheon, he quickly picked up the cup.

“Director, here. Drink this.”

“What is it?”

“It arrived earlier as a delivery. The sender’s name was Choi Younghee… is she your mother?”

Jiwoon hadn’t mentioned meeting Mrs. Choi separately, so he made it sound like the medicine had come by mail.

“Yes.”

“The label on the package said to take one a day without fail.”

Taecheon waved a hand dismissively, clearly uninterested.

“I’m fine.”

“But it’s supposed to be good for your body.”

“I don’t take herbal supplements or anything like that.”

“Sorry?”

“Thanks for accepting it, but I don’t need it. Just leave it in the fridge or something.”

“Oh… okay.”

Then Taecheon turned and walked into the bedroom.

Well, what a windfall. That means I can drink it, right?

Jiwoon knocked back the rest in one shot and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

Damn. Whatever they put in this, it really gets you going.

As usual, Jiwoon lay side by side with Taecheon in bed, but he couldn’t fall asleep. As he kept tossing and turning, a low voice spoke from beside him.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Just go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

The truth was, Jiwoon had been reminiscing about the night they’d taken a selfie together at the resort in Jeju. Though he’d been drunk, he still vividly remembered the strength of the grip that had pinned him down on the bed.

Jiwoon glanced at Taecheon’s hand outside the covers. Veins bulged, the knuckles were thick—it was a strong, masculine hand.

That hand had… pinned me down like he was about to devour me, massaged my calves, it was wild.

And not just that? The director in Jeju had felt like a completely different person. Especially that smiling face… not the robotic kind, but a bright, genuine smile—it was, honestly, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Will I ever get to see it again?

A small impulse stirred in Jiwoon’s heart. He wanted to make Seo Taecheon smile like that again.

But why did he smile then? What was the reason? What triggered that laugh?

“Hmm…”

Then his thoughts evolved—what if I tried to make him laugh myself? Jiwoon was the kind of person who couldn’t resist acting once he set his mind on something. His idea started to take form.

Should I try making a funny face? No, that’s too embarrassing, and if he doesn’t laugh, I’ll just look like a fool.

Unaware that the laughter had come from pasta sauce on his nose, Jiwoon’s imagination wandered in all the wrong directions. Should I dance? Sing? Fake a fall?

Ah! Wait a minute!

Suddenly, a brilliant idea struck Jiwoon.

“Director, are you asleep?”

“I’m not.”

“Let’s… take a selfie.”

“A selfie?”

“To upload to the reflection journal.”

“…Today isn’t our bed selfie day, is it?”

Bed selfies weren’t a daily assignment, so Taecheon was technically right. But Jiwoon was determined to take a photo with him no matter what.

“It’d be good to have one saved in advance.”

“Hmm…”

“Come on, hurry.”

“Fine.”

Taecheon turned up the mood light slightly and sat up against the headboard.

“Let’s do it.”

Jiwoon picked up his phone and adjusted the frame so both of them were visible.

“Smile a bit, will you?”

“I believe I’ve said this before. I don’t smile.”

Liar. You smiled so brightly in front of me before!

“We’ll get a better score if we smile. Let’s give it a go, just once.”

“No. I can’t.”

Taecheon’s firm refusal left Jiwoon crestfallen. Tch, is it that hard to smile once?

In the end, Jiwoon took the photo and uploaded it—with a stone-faced sculpture beside him.

The next morning, Jiwoon behaved like a scholar researching how to make Seo Taecheon laugh.

“I need to start by analyzing his preferences.”

Jiwoon seriously began analyzing Taecheon’s humor code. But for that, he needed detailed information about him.

Favorite songs, movies, comedians, any content he’d recently enjoyed—he had to analyze them all to get meaningful results.

While Jiwoon was racking his brain, Assistant Manager Min Hyekyung handed him a coffee.

“Ah, thank you, Deputy Manager.”

“No need to thank me. So, how was Jeju? Come on, tell me.”

“Oh… it was nice. The weather was great too.”

When Jiwoon dodged the question, Min Hyekyung furrowed her brows.

“Come on, not that. I mean romantically.”

“Romantically? Uh… well.”

“I heard you didn’t pick anyone. Is that true?”

“How did you know that?”

“Word gets around.”

So the whole company knows. Jiwoon figured that might be for the best. It was probably most comfortable if everyone—including Seo Taecheon—knew that Lee Jiwoon hadn’t picked any alpha.

“Yeah. Just… didn’t really connect with anyone.”

“I see. That’s fine. Our dear assistant manager can date next time.”

“Right. I’ll just focus on work.”

“Speaking of which, could you take this to the finance team?”

Min handed him a file folder and a USB.

“Sure, I’ll go.”

The finance office was separate from the marketing team and to get there, Jiwoon had to pass by the director’s office. He found himself glancing at the office door as he walked.

But just as he got close to the office, the door opened and someone stepped out.

“Well then, I’ll get going now, Director.”

“Yes.”

Gasp. Omega No. 3.

Jiwoon was so startled he nearly dropped the file folder. No matter how many times he blinked, the woman gracefully exiting the director’s office was definitely Omega No. 3. Last he’d heard, she was assigned to the customer support department, which was in the annex building.

So why did she come all the way here? Omega No. 3… was in direct contact with the director. No, they were getting closer.

Jiwoon skipped over all logic and jumped to the hasty conclusion.

If… Omega No. 3 and the director ended up becoming a couple, then what happens to me?

His thoughts became as muddled as a painter’s palette with every color mixed together.

If the two of them fall for each other, then I’m the one who has to bow out. I was an uninvited guest in Seo Taecheon’s life from the start. There’s no bond, no love—just a clerical error between us.

Jiwoon, lost in his own delusion, clenched his fists.

At that moment, the director was seated at a heavy wooden table, reviewing documents. At 11 a.m., a soft alarm buzzed. It was a scheduled notification from the reflection journal app.

<Mr. Seo Taecheon. You’re five days behind on your journal entries. If you don’t update soon, you’ll be penalized! Please make sure to submit your entry!>

On screen, the app’s mascot ‘Sookryeodungie’ danced around with a worried face, urging him to write the journal.

<Would you like to write it now?>

Seo Taecheon raised his hand and firmly pressed ‘No.’

<You’re at risk of a penalty. Still not writing your journal?>

He tapped ‘Confirm’ and flipped the phone facedown, returning to his work.