TCBW C88

Chapter 88

“How did you…?”

“The day I brought you here,” Dowoon said quietly, “Choi Haeon told me what he’d heard from the servants at the shrine. That tree—you liked it, didn’t you?”

“Yes… but that kind of tree only grows on Mount Unbang.”

“It’s difficult to raise, but not impossible to grow elsewhere. …So?” Dowoon’s gaze softened slightly. “Now that you’ve seen it, are you willing to accept what I give you?”

He looked at Suhoe, who had just moments ago been smiling radiantly.

“……”

But Suhoe’s lips pressed tightly shut.

He had lowered his head again without a word. It was a kind of habit. Whenever he stood before something precious, something too bright or expensive for him, he instinctively shrank back.

As if such brilliance only served to illuminate the poverty of his own reality—turning the moment into a mirror that exposed his inadequacy.

“Why?” Dowoon’s tone carried quiet weight. “You don’t want this either?”

“I… I don’t think I can. I can’t accept it.”

“You said earlier it was because it was too expensive. Then what’s the reason this time?”

“…You said I could refuse, didn’t you?”

“I did. But I’d like to hear why. Lift your head and explain.”

Yet even with his firm tone, Suhoe only bowed further, the nape of his neck trembling slightly.

“So you’ve decided you’ll never accept anything I give you?”

“Of course not,” Suhoe said quickly. “It’s just… it feels too undeserved.”

His voice trailed off into a whisper, fragile as air.

Dowoon said nothing. He simply slid his arms under Suhoe’s body and, in one smooth motion, lifted him onto his lap.

Keeping his gaze fixed on the boy’s downcast face, he spoke in a low, businesslike voice.

“Even if this is nothing more than paying the price for the time you spent waiting—because I failed to hold up my end of our agreement?”

“…The price of our agreement?”

“Yes.”

Suhoe’s eyes dropped to the buttons of Dowoon’s shirt. He stared at them for a while, as if the pattern there might help him think, before answering softly.

“…Even so. You’ve been busy. And if that’s the reason you’re giving it to me—if it’s out of obligation—it only makes it harder to accept.”

“Out of obligation?”

“Yes. It feels like… you think you owe me something.”

Dowoon’s lips curved faintly, but not in amusement.

“And a gift given with that kind of heart—does it make a difference?”

He asked it with quiet mischief, watching him closely.

Suhoe, knowing that look well, kept his gaze down and whispered, “…It’s different.”

Dowoon’s fingers brushed through the ends of Suhoe’s hair, twining them slowly before letting the strands slip through his hand.

“Different, huh… Then if I gave it with a different heart—would you take it?”

The slow, unhurried motion of his hand made Suhoe’s skin prickle with phantom sensation. His back stiffened, and his voice came out in a stammer.

“…S-still, I can’t.”

Dowoon looked down at him, eyes dark and unreadable, before wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist and lowering his nose to the pale curve of his neck. His voice brushed against Suhoe’s skin like heat.

“Just a while ago,” he murmured, “you looked like you had the whole world in your hands.”

The warmth of his breath teased at Suhoe’s ear, drawing out a soft, helpless sound. His shoulders trembled under the weight of sensation.

“Then tell me,” Dowoon said, his tone dropping lower. “Why do you keep refusing every gift I give you? Do you mean to make my sincerity worthless?”

“I—I’m not!” Suhoe stammered, his words broken between ragged breaths. “It’s just… hhh, it’s just that seeing the ocean today—it was enough, really.”

“You always say that. ‘I’m fine.’ ‘It’s enough.’” Dowoon’s voice roughened. “Does pretending you have no desires make you feel safer?”

“But… it’s true.”

“You’ve gone your whole life without getting what you wanted,” he said quietly. “So maybe you never learned how to ask for it. But sometimes—you should try.”

His words were gentle, but his eyes were not.

“A-ask for it?”

“Yes.”

That single word made Suhoe freeze, his expression panicked. He shook his head quickly.

“N-no. I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to, or you won’t?”

“…I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because—anyone would be the same! You can’t just… tell someone to beg out of nowhere.”

His excuse tumbled out weakly, his eyes darting away.

Dowoon only tightened his grip around his waist, his eyes fixed on Suhoe’s lips.

“Uh…”

The pressure left him unable to move. He tried to squirm away, but Dowoon’s arms didn’t budge. The harder he struggled, the more firmly he was held.

“I-I don’t like this,” he whispered.

At that, Dowoon leaned closer, his mouth near Suhoe’s ear.

“Then say what you want,” he murmured. “Do that, and I’ll let you go.”

“Ah—!”

His breath grazed Suhoe’s ear, and the Omega shuddered like a wind-up toy losing control. Dowoon’s teeth found his earlobe, biting softly, and the faint sound that escaped Suhoe’s lips was half gasp, half plea.

His mind blurred. His body heated.

He knew this feeling—knew all too well where it led.

No… I shouldn’t.

But why, again, shouldn’t he?

His thoughts scattered just as a memory flickered across his mind—one he’d half forgotten until now.

“During the early stages of pregnancy, it’s best to avoid physical intimacy.”

Oh. The baby.

That was why.

He lifted his gaze, his breath trembling, and met Dowoon’s eyes head-on.

“Th-then… let’s just…”

Dowoon raised an eyebrow, his expression caught between curiosity and impatience.

“…let’s just sleep tonight. Do nothing.”

“What?”

“You said,” Suhoe panted softly, “to ask for what I want. That’s what I want.”

Dowoon’s expression darkened almost instantly. The faint tension in his jaw betrayed something sharp and unspoken. Then, without a word, he set Suhoe gently aside and rose to his feet.

Suhoe, breath still uneven, watched him in confusion as Dowoon walked toward the door.

“Dowoon-ssi?”

His voice cracked faintly, but Dowoon’s answer came cool and distant.

“…All right. Then let’s do that. Go ahead and sleep. I’ll shower.”

The tone was calm—too calm.

Before Suhoe could say anything more, the door clicked shut behind him.

Left alone, Suhoe sat trembling, unsure what he had done wrong. His body still burned from his earlier closeness, but his legs refused to hold him.

The air in the room cooled. Slowly, like fog creeping through cracks, a chill spread through the darkness.

It gathered—thickened—until it formed a shape like a living shadow.

Before Suhoe could react, it drifted toward him, brushing over the crown of his head.

An alien sensation stabbed through his mind, sharp and cold.

Without even time to resist, he collapsed onto the bed as though struck.

Some time later, Dowoon returned from his shower.

What greeted him was the soft, even rhythm of Suhoe’s breathing.

He walked over to the bed and stood silently for a moment, looking down. In sleep, Suhoe’s face seemed even younger—gentle, unguarded.

Dowoon’s gaze traced lower, settling on the faint outline of his slender abdomen beneath the thin fabric of his clothes.

Something in his expression darkened.

And then—unbidden—the echo of a voice he had tried to ignore all day rose again in his memory.

“May I speak with you for a moment?”

It had been earlier that afternoon, at the hospital. While Suhoe had been changing clothes, Dowoon had waited in the corridor. That was when Professor Eun had stepped forward to block his path, her voice taut with hesitation.

She had looked up at him nervously, her posture stiff, but Dowoon—expressionless—had only asked in a low voice,

“What is it?”

Though they had seen each other many times before, there was never warmth between them—only formality.

“…You initially requested a longer admission period for your wife,” Professor Eun began carefully. “We’ve followed that treatment plan accordingly. But now, with discharge so near—you suddenly approved an outing.”

“The other doctors haven’t raised any concerns,” Dowoon replied evenly. “Are you saying you see a problem?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m not saying he shouldn’t go out.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“……”

Her silence dragged on, thick and uneasy. Dowoon’s tone cooled another degree.

“If there’s a problem, speak now. I’m listening.”

Professor Eun hesitated—but at last, as though making a decision, she lifted her eyes to meet his.