DFLT 29

If it were Seo Heonyoung, perhaps it would be different. Whenever he called Yeonoh’s name in that cynical, weary tone, his heart trembled as if caught in a summer cold. Despite causing such a mess and being forcibly transferred to another team, the fact that his subconscious still reached for Seo Heonyoung proved this hopeless one-sided love was running counter to his will.

He needed to thank someone for the water purifier, but he racked his brain over how to broach the topic appropriately. Yeonoh’s thoughts spiraled deeper when—

[Park Kyunghwan: Yeonoh, where’s the shared folder for the meeting minutes?]

Yeonoh’s gaze, lost in space, snapped back at the blinking company messenger icon. While replying to Team Leader Park Kyunghwan from the secretarial office, Senior Oh Seungho chimed in.

[Oh Seungho: Mr. Yeonoh, about the notebook factory fire issue…]

It seemed Seo Heonyoung was bombarding the entire secretarial office with tasks simultaneously. On days when something went wrong, he poured all his energy into work, tolerating no minor disruptions.

Is he in a bad mood today…? After sending the file Senior Oh requested, the desk phone screen flashed. It was Office Manager Kim Jinhwan.

“Yes, Office Manager.”

—Hey, Mr. Yeonoh. Can you come up for a bit?

“Yes, I’ll be right there.”

It must be a mess from leaving early yesterday without completing the handover. After getting permission from his new team, he hurried upstairs, immediately feeling the tense atmosphere. Team Leader Park’s face lit up upon seeing Yeonoh.

“Oh, Yeonoh’s here? The Executive Director and Office Manager just went to a meeting, so let’s finish up before they return.”

Having arrived early to work on handover documents, Yeonoh organized ongoing issues, tasks requiring updates for Heonyoung, and documents requested by team members. By the time he shared everything, quite a bit of time had passed.

As the urgent tasks were handled, Team Leader Park shuddered and spoke up.

“The Executive Director’s in a foul mood today. It was a storm.”

Why did bad premonitions never miss? Yeonoh asked cautiously.

“Why…?”

“No idea. He suddenly called us in, asked about this and that, and when he heard they were all things Mr. Yeonoh was following up on, he yelled about how the company can’t function without Ji Yeonoh.”

If only he hadn’t left early yesterday… Normally, if something displeased Heonyoung, he’d push until it was fixed, maintaining his cool without snapping or yelling. Had Yeonoh prepared the materials, the team might have avoided trouble.

As Yeonoh sighed inwardly, Office Manager Kim returned from the meeting. Heonyoung, absent, must have had other business. That was probably for the best—for Heonyoung too.

“Mr. Yeonoh, the Executive Director’s looking for you. He’s in the outdoor garden. Go up.”

“…M-Me? Why?”

His heart dropped with a thud, and Yeonoh couldn’t hide his panic, asking loudly.

“Well, it’s probably about the handover, but… I don’t know the details.”

Kim’s evasive gaze and vague response suggested Heonyoung was in a terrible mood. Each step toward the garden felt like walking to a guillotine, not a rooftop. Reaching the smoking area, Yeonoh spotted Seo Heonyoung’s back. Sensitive to cigarette smoke, he stood at a distance, waiting for Heonyoung to finish.

Yeonoh gazed at Seo Heonyoung’s broad, straight back. Even the slight motion of rubbing a cigarette in the ashtray revealed firm muscles under his shirt. The sharp shoulder line, the fitted waist, the fingers flicking the shortened cigarette—his form was so perfect it could be a textbook model.

Heonyoung surely knew someone was there, yet he didn’t turn until the cigarette burned out, his composure quintessentially him. A fleeting, absurd fantasy crossed Yeonoh’s mind: if he turned to show Heonyoung his back, how would he react? Someone like Seo Heonyoung would never be a loyal dog staring endlessly at its master’s back, like Yeonoh was now.

“Protesting?”

Seo Heonyoung’s first words, tossing the crushed cigarette butt, were blunt.

“Or is it insubordination?”

“…I don’t understand what you mean.”

Ji Yeonoh’s voice crawled along the floor, avoiding Seo Heonyoung’s sharp gaze.

“If your goal was to let the world know you’re upset about being transferred, you’ve succeeded.”

Seo Heonyoung seemed to know exactly how to twist someone’s emotions with sarcasm. Feeling wronged, Yeonoh lowered his eyes and spoke.

“Absolutely not.”

“Don’t sulk. What gives you the right to talk back?”

If he explained he left early due to illness, he’d only be mocked. Yeonoh stayed silent, giving the response Heonyoung wanted.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault for not completing the handover.”

“You really don’t get it.”

Leaning against the railing with arms crossed, Seo Heonyoung muttered. Yeonoh, clueless about what he meant, waited for Heonyoung’s lips to move instead of speaking.

“You called me over fifteen times last night.”

“What?”

Forgetting it was Seo Heonyoung, Yeonoh yelped in shock. Heonyoung nodded toward Yeonoh’s pocket, prompting him to check. The call log to Heonyoung went on endlessly, even after scrolling.

What is this…? Racking his brain in horror, Yeonoh pieced it together. He’d answered Dojin’s call, too weak to hold the phone, placing it on the mattress and pressing his face against it. His mind raced: he fell asleep during Dojin’s call, and in his sleep, his cheek must have rubbed the screen, accidentally redialing Heonyoung from past work calls. That was the only explanation.

‘Sunbae, your voice is nice…’

God, I’m losing it. Even sleep-drunk, he’d babbled about Heonyoung’s voice. Pale with embarrassment, Yeonoh ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry…”

“Drunk on who-knows-what, spouting nonsense—did you think I was that laughable?”

“…….”

“I don’t care who this ‘sunbae’ you’re flirting with is, but you thought the same cheap trick would work on me?”

Heonyoung’s tone reflected deep discomfort. Wanting to tear his hair out but staring at the ground, Yeonoh saw Heonyoung’s shoes approach and stop right in front of him.

“Do that filthy stunt again, and you’re really fired.”

With that short but resolute warning, Seo Heonyoung turned toward the entrance before Yeonoh could respond. After the sound of his footsteps faded, Yeonoh rubbed his face with his palm and sighed softly.

He didn’t intend to have unique tastes as a beta; he just liked Seo Heonyoung. This situation felt like a giant knot of unsolvable misunderstandings. He knew untangling it was futile—Heonyoung didn’t care about that. Frustrated by his own knack for messing things up, Yeonoh let out a heavy sigh.

Staring blankly as the smoke from Heonyoung’s crushed cigarette dissipated, Yeonoh’s eyes widened. If Heonyoung was the one he’d called in his sleep, then Heonyoung must have sent the water purifier. The realization hit, and Yeonoh sprinted. Heonyoung’s back was visible, hands in pockets, waiting for the elevator, which hadn’t yet reached the top floor.

“Executive Director!”

Panting, Yeonoh reached Heonyoung with all his strength. Startled by his fierce gaze, Yeonoh lowered his head and continued.

“Thank you for the water purifier. My slip of the tongue yesterday wasn’t meant to imply I needed one. But I feel so guilty, I want to pay for it.”

“Whatever your intent, it sounded to me like a cheap guy looking for an excuse to get involved.”

“…….”

“I sent it because I don’t want to be entangled with someone like you. So, no need to thank me.”

The elevator’s arrival chime was annoyingly cheerful. Heonyoung’s shoes echoed on the floor as he stepped in.

“Take the next one.”

The elevator, carrying a Seo Heonyoung who wouldn’t meet his eyes, slowly closed.

Yeonoh bit his lip hard. He hadn’t expected kind words. He just wanted to express gratitude. But Heonyoung’s sharp words stung deeply.