For a Hungry Omega

“You said someone grabbed and turned the doorknob? After knocking?”

Two young police officers, who had arrived just ten minutes after the report, questioned Haon. Clutching both his phone and a pair of kitchen scissors, Haon nodded vigorously.

“They, they turned it this hard…”

He extended his hand into the air and mimicked the slow turning of the doorknob. His voice trembled as he explained what happened, repeating two or three times how the knob had turned. One of the officers, who had been silently listening, cautiously gestured with his eyes.

“Please put those scissors down for now.”

There was nothing else in the house that could serve as a weapon, so he’d grabbed the nearest thing he could find. Following the officer’s instruction, Haon placed the scissors in the sink and stepped back out. His hands, pale from how tightly he’d been gripping them, throbbed with a lingering ache.

“You said there’s no one who should be coming to visit, right?”

“Y-yes…”

The officers told him they’d patrol the area first and contact him if they noticed anything unusual.

“If you’re still feeling uneasy, maybe spend the night somewhere else,” one officer suggested, rubbing his forehead as he glanced at Haon’s pale, stricken face. The other, returning from checking the hallway, added that it wasn’t safe for someone to live alone in a place like this. He must’ve realized Haon was Omega.

“If you’re planning to head out now, we can walk you.”

Haon parted his lips slightly but soon shook his head. There wasn’t anywhere that came to mind. Not a single person he was close enough with to ask for a place to stay the night.

After sending the officers off, he re-entered his apartment alone. Even after confirming the hallway was empty, his heart pounded furiously in his chest. Cold sweat soaked his back and forehead.

The sound of the doorknob turning seemed to echo in his ears over and over. He’d really thought the door was about to open. He’d been so terrified it felt like his heart had been ripped out from beneath his feet.

“Ugh…”

Unable to bear the violent pounding in his chest, Haon rushed to the bathroom and vomited. Even while clutching the toilet and dry-heaving, his bloodshot eyes remained fixed on the front door. He couldn’t let his guard down, afraid the doorknob might start turning again at any moment.

Who the hell had it been?

After rinsing his mouth, Haon staggered out, carefully making his way toward the bed while trying not to make a sound. He even covered his mouth with a hand, holding back his breath to prevent any stray noise. It still felt like someone was standing just outside the door, listening in.

It was already nearing four in the morning. He needed at least a little sleep before heading to work.

“Haah…”

With a shaky sigh, he slowly crawled under the covers. Even with the electric blanket turned on, a chill clung stubbornly to his body. Lying on his side, Haon kept his eyes locked on the front door. His anxiety made it impossible to close his eyes.

After lying in bed and fidgeting under the covers for a while, he decided he should at least have a glass of water. Finally sitting up, he tiptoed across the floor as quietly as he could, still careful not to make a sound.

He stared at the front door for a moment, then forgot he’d been about to get some water. Instead, he grabbed the kitchen scissors and his phone again and returned to bed. The thirst hit him belatedly, but he didn’t want to make any more noise, so he stayed still.

Sitting up with his back against the wall, Haon held the scissors so their sharp blades pointed toward the door. He practiced stabbing the air a few times, then hugged a pillow to his chest like a shield and rested his chin on top of it. No matter what he did, he couldn’t relax.

There was no way he was going to fall asleep, so he wished the sun would just rise already. He rolled his silent phone in his palm and checked the time, watching the minutes crawl by. There was still no follow-up from the officers.

That was when footsteps echoed from the hallway.

In the silence of dawn, the sound of someone’s steps came through even louder. Haon’s heart began to hammer again, pounding so hard it hurt.

Thud, thud, tick—

He couldn’t even breathe until he heard the sound of a digital door lock being pressed—on someone else’s door. He remained frozen, clutching the scissors like a lifeline, until he heard that door open and then close again.

No. This wasn’t going to work. He had to leave.

If he stayed like this until morning, he was certain he’d pass out. And then he wouldn’t be able to go to work. That was the biggest problem.

Only just now remembering the bath house, Haon grabbed a thin hoodie from the closet. If that didn’t work out, he could always go to the PC bang nearby. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

‘I should’ve left earlier…’

He tapped his clammy forehead with his fingers, biting down hard on his regret. He stood up with the intention of leaving immediately, but ended up pacing in front of the bed, just staring at the front door.

He couldn’t muster the courage to go outside alone.

Frustrated, he smacked his own forehead harder and chewed at his lower lip. He felt more pathetic than ever.

Even though he was holding scissors, he wasn’t confident he could actually stab someone. Carrying a weapon wouldn’t help—he’d just get it taken away.

The deeper the silence, the more suffocating it became. His throat felt tight, like an allergic reaction had set in.

Haon stood there blankly, as if he’d forgotten what he was trying to do, focusing on nothing but his breathing. If he stayed like this any longer, he really would pass out. The thought of losing consciousness and being left alone in the apartment made his lips tremble.

Since coming up to Seoul, never had he felt the weight of being alone as vividly as he did now. It was also the first time he’d experienced how fear could short-circuit all thought once it passed a certain threshold.

He desperately longed for the reliable elders in his hometown village… and for Seong-gu hyung. The more vividly their faces came to mind, the more crushing the loneliness became. On this vast stretch of Seoul, there was nowhere he could turn for help. Not a single place.

‘You can reach out if you ever need help.’

A man’s voice suddenly brushed past his ears. The soft tone of someone who’d once told him he could even stay at his place flickered through his mind—and with it, all the strength drained from Haon’s legs.

He sank to the floor, fingers fumbling with his phone. Had he really meant it? Or had it just been a throwaway comment, blurted out in surprise after seeing how rundown his place was?

He pressed the power button on his phone to check the time. It was far too late to be contacting anyone.

Haon forced his stiff shoulders to straighten, took a deep breath, and moved his fingers. He was only going to check the man’s number—he had absolutely no intention of contacting him at such a late hour, not with so little regard for manners or decency.

But as soon as he checked his phone, Haon’s long, narrow eyes began to widen. His fear-stricken gaze froze on a text message.

The man had sent a message. It had arrived just after he’d tried to call Haon that morning.

[Call me as soon as you see this.]

Drawn in by that message, Haon made the call. He knew full well the man hadn’t meant for him to contact him in the middle of the night. Even so, his hand moved on its own.

Drrrrr. The dial tone rang, and Haon’s shoulders shrank with tension. His mind swung back and forth between I need to hang up right now and Please, please let him answer. In the end, the latter won.

“Please pick up… just this once…”

Though the man wasn’t even there, Haon sank to his knees, begging silently, waiting for his voice to come through. The longer the ringing went on, the louder his conscience shouted at him to end the call. 

‘What am I doing, waking someone up at this hour? Even if I ask for help, it’s not like he can come running right away.’

Beep—

A cold automated message played: the call couldn’t be answered right now. Haon nodded faintly, gripping his phone in trembling hands.

Some part of him was actually relieved he hadn’t answered. At least he hadn’t disturbed the man’s sleep.

‘God, I’m such an idiot.’ Haon buried his face in his knees, cursing himself. ‘What would I have done if he had picked up?’

‘You dumbass. Moron. Worthless mutt.’

He berated his own pathetic self for a long while. Regret hit him in waves. It just kept coming, endless.

His heart was still pounding uncontrollably, so he stood to get some water. He’d been parched for ages now but hadn’t even thought to drink.

He picked up a half-empty 2-liter water bottle and sipped the lukewarm water. As he forced the water down his constricted throat, his phone suddenly vibrated—startling him so badly he spat it out.

“Kegh—”

Coughing and spluttering, Haon pulled his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. He thought it might be the police calling him back.

But the call was from someone else. An unfamiliar number lit up the screen—yet it was instantly recognizable. He’d just been staring at that number, after all. It was the man’s.

“H-hello?”

Still doubting his eyes, Haon answered the call before it stopped vibrating. And then, a voice—familiar and unmistakable—flowed through the speaker.

— Haon-ssi?

The quiet voice instantly cleared the tightness in his chest. Just hearing it brought a sense of relief that he couldn’t explain. He barely knew anything about the man, yet his voice alone was enough to calm Haon’s frayed nerves.

— Haon-ssi, is something wrong?

The man asked calmly. Thankfully, he didn’t sound like he’d just been woken up.

“Um…”

Just as Haon wiped his damp lips and opened his mouth to speak, a faint voice could be heard on the other end—someone talking to the man. It was too distant to make out the words clearly.

— It’s okay. Go ahead.

“I-I’m so sorry… for calling this late.”

A moment later, there was the sound of a door closing. The background quieted—it seemed the man had moved somewhere more private. The weight of guilt and gratitude tightened in Haon’s throat.

— Haon-ssi.

The man continued, picking up the conversation when Haon fell silent.

— Something’s wrong, isn’t it?

Haon nodded as if the man were standing right in front of him.

— Do you need help right now?

Again, Haon nodded, then smacked himself on the head and finally managed to speak.

“Yes…”

— Where are you?

The question came like he might show up right away. Haon gripped his phone tighter.

“A-at home.”

He stammered out the answer, voice laced with urgency.

“I’m at home…”

Worried that the man might not have heard him, he repeated himself. The brief pause that followed on the other end only heightened his anxiety. Glancing at the screen, he checked to make sure the call was still connected.

Thankfully, the call duration continued ticking upward.

— I’ll be there soon.

The man spoke again, calmly telling Haon to wait just a little longer. He mentioned the roads would be clear at this hour, so he’d probably get there quickly—his tone reassuring.

“I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

Haon rubbed his burning eyes, the words tumbling from his mouth over and over. More than gratitude, it was apology that came first.

Instead of accepting his apology, the man simply said one thing.

— You did the right thing by calling.