DHG Ch 38

His heart pounded. Heewoo couldn’t distinguish whether his accelerated heartbeat was from surprise or Jang Seungyung’s proximity. Despite the cooler air in the pantry, unlike the heated president’s office, a sudden warmth spread through his stomach.

…This isn’t good.

No matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his affection kept spilling out like candy. Like carelessly discarded wrapping paper, it rustled, revealing itself.

Unfortunately, he could hear everything from outside. He didn’t want Jang Seungyung to find out about his cleaning duties, but he couldn’t just eavesdrop like this.

It seems like pouring my heart out while cleaning will become impossible now. He shook off his hesitation and was about to quickly gather the trash and recyclables to leave the pantry when…

‘Should I call Mr. Kwon Heewoo?’

He heard his name mentioned.

After that, a barrage of words, like arrows piercing his heart, made it impossible to open the door…

And that led to the current situation.

“…….”

Heewoo slowly exhaled as he faced Secretary Hwang, who was staring at him with his mouth agape. His heart, which had been racing while he listened to their conversation, wouldn’t calm down.

Because the words he had just heard were replaying in his ears with excessive vividness.

‘He’s the first person I’ve ever wanted to roll around in bed with.’

‘Yes. I want to sleep with Kwon Heewoo.’

‘What else could it be?’

Jang Seungyung’s cold, unwavering answer. And Secretary Hwang’s voice, reiterating it clearly, as if mocking Heewoo’s attempt to convince himself he had misheard.

‘It’s good that you’re mindful of Mr. Kwon Heewoo’s various uses, Director. Including as a means of sexual gratification.’

He wasn’t angry.

The first emotion he felt was shame. Different from what he had felt in front of Kim Jinhwan, this was closer to embarrassment and mortification. The feeling of, Ah, I really did misunderstand.

The second emotion was relief. It’s a good thing I only kissed him. It’s a good thing we didn’t sleep together. That must be why he’s still interested in me.

A bleak thought followed.

Then….

If so.

If he kept rejecting him, could he maintain Jang Seungyung’s interest for a little longer?

He had, until just moments ago, dreamed of spending his heat with Jang Seungyung. If he could maintain his interest and spend even one full heat cycle together…?

The moment he arrived at such an irrational curiosity, Heewoo abruptly realized it. He realized he was clinging desperately to even a sliver of fickle interest, like frost, unable to let go of his lingering hope.

His brief contemplation was fleeting. Secretary Hwang had just opened the door. The winter sunlight, however bright, felt only bleak as it slanted between them.

“…….”

Heewoo’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He couldn’t see Secretary Hwang’s face clearly because of the backlight. However, because of that, Secretary Hwang would be able to see his face clearly.

He swallowed again, his dry throat working. He shook his head, which barely moved, and mouthed the words.

Please pretend you didn’t see me.

He conveyed his desperate plea silently, slowly. Their eyes met in the backlight. For a brief moment, Secretary Hwang wrinkled his nose. Then he stepped fully into the pantry.

“…….”

It’s over.

Heewoo squeezed his eyes shut, waiting with a sinking heart for the inevitable accusation and judgment. Then, he opened his eyes at the sound of clinking. Secretary Hwang poured two glasses of water, placed them on a tray, and walked back out.

“Would you like some water?”

Secretary Hwang’s voice sounded distant. As did the sound of him immediately gulping down the cold water. Heewoo silently stared at the pantry door that had closed shut. He realized Secretary Hwang had shown him mercy.

As is typical of winter weather, the sun quickly disappeared behind the clouds. Heewoo remained motionless in the shadows, waiting for the president’s office to empty.

How long did he wait?

He couldn’t tell if it was a short or long time. Heewoo only emerged after the presence of the two men had completely disappeared.

On the spotless table, devoid of even a fingerprint, sat an empty teacup and a full glass of water. Normally, he would have washed them in the pantry, but Heewoo put the cup in the recycling box and carried it all out.

He avoided the elevator and took the staff stairs. He couldn’t go to the kitchen. He was worried the president might visit.

He hid in the staff utility room, a place he usually didn’t go. He put down the miscellaneous items he was carrying and carefully washed the cup in the sink. After that, there was nothing he could do. He had to go outside to organize the cleaning supplies and sort the recycling. If he went out, there was a chance he would run into the man.

The man who had spoken so coldly about him just moments ago.

He stood there for a moment, lost, then sank onto a small plastic chair.

‘You knew this would happen.’

Heewoo felt foolish for being heartbroken. He had known from the start that Jang Seungyung’s feelings for him were just fleeting interest, so why couldn’t he control his emotions?

There was no reason for the man to treat him sincerely. After losing his grandmother, all Heewoo had was Kim Jinhwan’s malice.

He knew, he knew that….

His chest felt hollow, as if a cold wind was blowing through it. Despite his caution, he was still hurt by the revelation of the man’s temporary caprice.

Then, a subtle counterargument arose from deep within.

What about the pheromones during the kiss? You clearly felt them, the pheromones of affection. It felt like we were lovers. Maybe he actually likes me. And what about the day of the soccer game? Korea scored a goal, and he looked at me instead of the game, in that moment? And not only that…

“Ha…”

He cut off his foolish, secret hopes with a sigh.

This must be what it means to be delusional. A pathetic attempt to find meaning. A futile attempt to lubricate things with champagne, so to speak.

Perhaps he had been delusional from the very beginning. Had he been overinterpreting Jang Seungyung’s pheromones, which were actually nothing special? Had he been misunderstanding them all this time, mistaking them for pheromones of love?

The same went for the soccer game. Perhaps the man wasn’t actually that interested in soccer. He seemed that way. Then it’s possible he would look at me during that historic moment when Korea might defeat Iran on their home turf….

His throat tightened. Now he was confused, wondering if even the memories he thought were real were just his own biased interpretations, blinded by his one-sided love.

Because just today, he had faced an undeniable reality.

‘Yes. I want to sleep with Kwon Heewoo. What else could it be?’

That cold voice, shattering his naive, excited delusion.

A clear, direct expression of intent, more definitive than vague pheromones, or unexplained skinship, or unexplained kindness.

That was reality.

Heewoo looked up. He stared blankly at the water droplets trickling down the surface of the cup placed upside down on the rack, then rubbed his cold fingertips against his knees.

It’s nothing. He wasn’t feeling well, so he was more affected by those careless words than usual. He forced himself to stand up.

Even then, Heewoo naively assumed that the worst of the day was over.

“Heewoo, you were here? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

That is, until Daol flung open the door with an urgent look.

“Hurry. It’s an emergency!”

Daol, his hair disheveled as if he had just woken up, grabbed his hand and pulled him along, his voice hushed.

Swept up by his unusual urgency, Heewoo followed Daol without even gathering his belongings. They arrived at Daol’s room. An unexpected face was waiting for him there. It was Mingeon, who had disappeared with a troubled look two hours earlier.

“Tell him yourself! Now!”

Daol lunged forward and hit Mingeon’s arm. Mingeon flinched. Heewoo stood there blankly, unable to comprehend the situation. Already drained, he looked at Mingeon with an expressionless gaze, like an inanimate object.

An awkward silence hung between them. Finally, Mingeon spoke, his face a mixture of discomfort and regret.

“It’s, the new president…”

A hesitant but calm voice followed. Heewoo vaguely perceived Mingeon’s long explanation like a distant story playing on the radio.

Geumsan, Taegang, and the ledger. He barely grasped fragments of Mingeon’s words. Like having to guess that something was an elephant by tracing its outline with his eyes closed, he couldn’t immediately understand what Mingeon was saying.

Still, the gist of the story, when condensed to its most crucial elements, was this:

“The new president is going to sell you to Kim Jinhwan!”

Daol, who had been listening while fidgeting, shouted. Mingeon, who had been frozen in place, glanced at Heewoo and then nodded heavily, confirming the summary.

Heewoo was speechless from the successive shocks. The story he had tried to distance himself from, listening to it as if it were someone else’s problem, was actually his own. There was no room for further escapism. Because if he did, his life would be over. He felt all the blood drain from his body.