The Unbelievers

Chapter 96

Siwoon’s eyes widened in surprise. The man who had just shoved a living person into a morgue storage unit and nailed it shut was now dismayed at the disappearing bruise marks. The man who had ordered someone pushed into the Yellow Sea’s dark waters to be killed was now alarmed by mere blue bruises on wrists.

Siwoon hastily grabbed Eunseong’s hand. When he rolled up the sleeve, both hands were the same.

“I knew this would happen.”

He tried to hide his wrists by pulling down the shirt sleeves after reluctantly showing them to Siwoon, but it was in vain. Siwoon’s brow furrowed seriously.

“I thought you’d react like this, that’s why I’ve been avoiding you…”

He didn’t remember gripping that hard. He hadn’t been gentle, but he hadn’t used force either. Yet even that slight pressure had caused bruising on Eunseong’s clear skin.

“…Did it hurt?”

Eunseong shook his head no. He had anticipated this reaction, which is why he’d deliberately tried not to show the bruises. In the morning, he pretended to sleep late when Siwoon was having coffee, and didn’t greet him when he left for work. He knew if Siwoon saw this, he would regret their night together, exercise restraint, and reproach himself for his actions while trying not to become “trash.”

Just like now.

“It doesn’t hurt at all. It’s just that my skin bruises easily.”

Though Eunseong bravely insisted it wasn’t Siwoon’s fault, the furrow between Siwoon’s brows wouldn’t ease.

“I’m sorry. It must have hurt.”

“It’s fine. Why are you apologizing for something like that? It doesn’t even hurt. I’m really tough, I’m telling you. You just don’t know that.”

Eunseong felt embarrassed as Siwoon sincerely apologized. Before things became more serious, he pulled his hand away from Siwoon’s grip and covered his wrist by pulling down his sleeve.

The regret that Eunseong had worried about was now appearing on Siwoon’s face. He uncomfortably rubbed his face with his dry hands as if he’d done something shameful.

Suddenly Eunseong noticed that the calluses that were always on Siwoon’s knuckles had been roughly torn away. Now that he looked, there were also faint bloodstains spread on Siwoon’s shirt. He was a subsidiary CEO, not a gangster. Eunseong knew such marks well—how the calluses on knuckles wear down and skin gets scraped when you beat someone badly. Siwoon looked like he had been in a violent fight somewhere.

“Are you okay now?”

Siwoon took back the hand Eunseong was trying to hide and asked while gently touching it.

“I was always fine. It’s just that my skin is weak and bruises easily.”

Doubt lingered in Siwoon’s eyes, suggesting he couldn’t fully believe Eunseong’s words meant to reassure him.

“Really. Want to see?”

Eunseong applied pressure to the back of his hand, trying to create a wound. Siwoon grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled it. In that moment, Eunseong was drawn a step closer to him. With the distance narrowed, Eunseong entered the shadow Siwoon cast. He was close enough to clearly see the blood specks scattered on Siwoon’s shirt.

Eunseong hastily looked up. His eyes met Siwoon’s.

“…Really, I’m fine.”

“…”

Siwoon, who had been looking down at him silently, lowered his head and approached. Eunseong flinched. Siwoon’s lips brushed against his ear, then along his jaw, and reached Eunseong’s neck. The rough lips began to suck on Eunseong’s neckline with pressure. It was a ticklish and painful contact. Eunseong tried to push him away, his shoulders twitching.

“…Mmph.”

A strange sharp sensation ran along his neckline as if something was stinging him. The lips that had been biting and strongly sucking on the tender flesh suddenly retreated. Siwoon’s eyes stared intently at Eunseong’s neck. Startled, Eunseong stood still, unable to move while held by him.

“…It’s true.”

“…”

“You really bruise quickly.”

Siwoon, who had created a red kiss mark on Eunseong’s neck, caressed the area with his hand. Eunseong hunched his shoulders.

“…Did that hurt?”

He asked in a kind voice. As he whispered with his lips close to Eunseong’s ear, Eunseong’s body kept flinching and his spine twitched repeatedly.

This time, Eunseong nodded that it had hurt. Somehow his face felt hot, as if tears might come, and his eyes reddened.

He didn’t seem like the same person who had talked about the 38th parallel and kept his distance. This wasn’t the careful, restrained man. Eunseong had the strange feeling that Siwoon was seducing him.

He touched the neck that Siwoon had sucked on. The skin was still hot and wet with saliva. His face flushed at the vivid sensation that remained on his body.

Belatedly realizing what he’d done, Siwoon cleared his throat and stepped away from Eunseong.

“Sorry. I’ve unnecessarily woken you up. Go back to sleep.”

“…I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Then sleep now.”

“You’re always telling me to sleep. I’m not a child…”

“Yes, you are.”

“Do I look like a child to you, ahjussi?”

Eunseong looked up at him. His eyes seemed to reproach, asking if he did what he just did because he considered him a child.

“No.”

“…”

He had expected Siwoon to say that he was obviously a child, still a kid, but his answer was completely unexpected. His heart sank at Siwoon’s simple response.

“I’m tired. I should sleep.”

“…Yes.”

“Can I see your face tomorrow morning?”

His thumb gently caressed Eunseong’s cheek as he nodded in response.

Siwoon tilted his face and placed a light kiss on Eunseong’s lips. His dry lips touched the moist ones with weight, then soon parted, leaving a sense of longing.

Siwoon showed a faint, exhausted smile and patted Eunseong’s head before slowly removing his hand.

Siwoon turned off the shower valve and stepped out of the shower stall. His wet footsteps made splashing sounds on the tile. He took a towel from the drawer to roughly dry his body and stood in front of the mirror.

He shook the shaving foam to create lather and applied it to his face. Since childhood, Siwoon had preferred old-fashioned razors that required blade replacements over electric shavers. He filled the sink with water and carefully angled the razor to shave. After finishing, he wiped the foam from his face, making his stubbly appearance somewhat cleaner.

His eyes, looking at the face in the mirror, moved from his neck to his shoulders to his chest, observing the tattoos covering his body in sequence, and then returned to his face.

“…”

It wasn’t the face he had seen in the morning. It wasn’t the face of Siwoon he knew. He had the face of a stranger who had realized something overnight and couldn’t go back. It was an explicit, naked face he hadn’t wanted to see, hadn’t needed to see. Perhaps it was his real face that he had been hiding.

After staring at himself in the mirror for a long time, he left the bathroom, got dressed, and finished drying his wet hair. The time had already passed one in the morning.

Instead of going to bed, he left the room. He grabbed a jacket to block the cold and picked up a flashlight he had placed in the anteroom.

Though it was the coldest time of the year, Siwoon’s garden wasn’t desolate. The greenhouse boasted unseasonable freshness with flowers and bonsai, and shrubs that maintained lush leaves even in winter were neatly arranged in the well-maintained garden.

The sparrow that had nested among the bushes last summer and laid blue-green eggs had long departed for somewhere. The nest he had peered into with Eunseong was still sturdy and solid. Eunseong sometimes looked into the empty nest and whispered in a clear voice that he hoped the sparrow would lay eggs here next summer too, saying he wanted to see the baby birds.

The snow that had fallen a few days ago was still beautifully piled up. Since no one had walked through it, he could fully enjoy the serene white garden in winter.

He turned on the flashlight and thoroughly scanned the dark areas around the garden and house. His home was equipped with a state-of-the-art security system. Blue light flashed from the small, round CCTV cameras.

Every time Siwoon moved, the lenses agilely and keenly followed him. When he entered blind spots, camera lenses in other directions flickered with light, ensuring there were no gaps in coverage. Everything was perfect, as if he were being threatened by the system he had built.

As he walked through the garden, thoroughly examining his surroundings, the winter chill clung sharply to his coat.

Siwoon stopped in front of Eunseong’s window. As he exhaled, his breath scattered white among the cold winter air.

“…”

The curtains were drawn back on the window. Normally, Eunseong would always close the curtains before sleeping, saying he was afraid of the dark garden where nothing could be seen at night, but for some reason, the curtains were open today.

Beyond the window, he could vaguely see Eunseong asleep. He had burrowed into the bedding, habitually curling his body small, and was in a sound sleep.

When Siwoon shifted his gaze, Eunseong’s figure was no longer reflected in the large window. Instead, a grotesque shadow stood tall, reflected there. It was a dark form that seemed both human and beast.

The chill of the deep night crept up his spine. He turned off the flashlight. The light that had been illuminating one spot disappeared, and Siwoon was completely buried in darkness.

He remained motionless in that spot for a long time. Siwoon had imprisoned the “Great Gap” that everyone was seeking in his own space, monopolizing it completely, and to secure this, he had killed two people today.

A sense of crisis that he must not let those who would try to steal his companion live engulfed Siwoon like a wildfire. But this fire wasn’t hot—it was cool. Like ice flowers harboring sharp points.