DP Side Story Episode 20
by BrieDeep Pivot Side Story, Episode 20
“Then… d-do we, um, h-hold hands… and k…”
Seo-joon clenched his teeth, swallowing the laugh that was bubbling up. He deliberately stayed silent, waiting. Yeon-woo, lips stuck on the “k,” finally forced the rest out in a barely-there whisper.
“Did we… k-kiss too…?”
Just saying those words turned his whole face crimson, like it might explode. A large hand slowly came up to cover his face—but of course, it didn’t hide the blazing red of his ears.
Seo-joon clicked his tongue at Yeon-woo’s innocent, teenage self. No wonder I keep wanting to mess with him.
“We didn’t just kiss. We did a lot more.”
Yeon-woo slowly lowered his hand, staring at him with stunned disbelief.
“…”
A few seconds of silence passed.
Seo-joon met those wide, trembling blue eyes and said flatly:
“We’re grown adults. What do you think dating adults do?”
Plop. Drip.
It happened then. Bright red drops began falling onto Yeon-woo’s white hospital gown.
Seo-joon gasped.
A moment later, Yeon-woo, blinking in confusion, raised a hand to cover his nose and mouth.
Blood trickled down between his long fingers.
Acting fast, Seo-joon yanked tissues from the console and clamped them over Yeon-woo’s nose.
In a muffled, nasally voice, Yeon-woo babbled out a frantic stream of excuses.
“I-I-I don’t know what’s wrong… I’m sorry, this doesn’t usually happen. I swear it doesn’t. This is my first time. I must be sick, Lieutenant… I think I’m sick…”
“Okay, okay—just stop talking.”
Talk about déjà vu.
Unbelievable.
Even with his memory gone, Cha Yeon-woo was still Cha Yeon-woo.
…Alright. Now he really needed to stop messing with him.
“What the hell did you do to that clueless kid?!”
Hee-min was practically exploding, pacing furiously. Seo-joon rubbed his brow, trying not to wince.
“Huh? Ji Seo-joon, be honest with me. I still remember the day Yeon-woo had his first test—got a nosebleed, remember that? What did you just do to him?”
“…Nothing.”
Truly—he hadn’t even laid a finger on him. When Yeon-woo was twenty, just a single kiss had made his nose bleed. But now, at eighteen, it seemed even thinking about it was enough.
“I didn’t think you were that kind of guy, but wow… turns out you’re completely shameless, huh?”
Seo-joon let out a long sigh and pressed his palm to his forehead.
“I really didn’t do anything. …We just talked. That’s all.”
“You talked and he started bleeding?!”
Exactly. That’s all they did. Just… talked.
“Yeon-woo needs rest, not more excitement. I get that you’re frustrated, Seo-joon, but can’t you wait until his memory comes back? Is your self-control that bad?”
Hee-min practically shuddered as he glared at Seo-joon with undisguised disgust.
It was obvious he’d completely misunderstood, and yet—Seo-joon couldn’t bring himself to argue back.
Fine. This is all my fault.
He had been too impatient, too restless. He’d pushed Yeon-woo too hard, all because he couldn’t stand being forgotten.
“…I’ll be more careful now.”
“Not careful. Just don’t do anything! Yeon-woo isn’t just your Yeon-woo anymore. He belongs to everyone. Got it?”
Hee-min then launched into a full speech about how Cha Yeon-woo had cared for Seo-joon with utter devotion all through the months when Seo-joon couldn’t even feed himself or speak properly.
“Grow up, Ji Seo-joon. Seriously.”
Seo-joon nodded in silence, thoroughly scolded and feeling like a criminal.
When he stepped back into the hospital room, Yeon-woo was lying fast asleep under the effects of a fever reducer.
Haa…
Seo-joon sighed deeply and sat at his bedside.
His lover’s pale face, sleeping peacefully and unaware of the world, tugged at his heart. He gently brushed Yeon-woo’s hair back and took his hand in his own.
He had only stepped out briefly to sort insurance paperwork related to Cha Kyung-soo’s disappearance. He hadn’t wanted to leave Yeon-woo alone, but it was unavoidable—and yet, this had happened in the meantime. The guilt was crushing.
Why did I let him go to the store alone…? I should never have let him drive. I should’ve just kept him home—never let him get a license in the first place.
All his worry and regret spiraled into extreme thoughts.
“…I’m sorry, Yeon-woo.”
It’s my fault. Even if your memories come back slowly, just… stay healthy. That’s all I ask.
That’s always been the one and only thing Seo-joon ever truly wanted from him.
And honestly, that had never changed.
“Lieutenant…”
The hand nestled quietly in his stirred slightly. Yeon-woo, eyes half-lidded in a sleepy haze, murmured drowsily.
“Lieutenant…”
Then, with a faint, sleepy smile, he drifted back into a peaceful slumber.
In that fleeting moment, it felt like Yeon-woo had remembered him again—and Seo-joon’s heart dropped with a loud thud.
Eyes locked on those slowly closing lids, Seo-joon couldn’t take his gaze off him for a single second.
The sensation of someone gently tapping his shoulder stirred Seo-joon awake. In the darkness, his eyes found Yeon-woo. Through the half-open curtains, night had already fallen. He must’ve dozed off.
“…Yeon-woo, you’re awake? I’m sorry—I must’ve nodded off.”
He sat up, still groggy, and hurriedly straightened out his seat.
“I’ll move so you can sleep comfortably. See you in the morning, Yeon-woo.”
“…Lieutenant.”
Seo-joon stopped as a hand clutched at his sleeve—not his hand, but his sleeve. Whether twenty or eighteen, the way Cha Yeon-woo reached out to others hadn’t changed at all.
“I slept too much earlier… I don’t think I can fall asleep again.”
“…”
“If it’s okay with you, can we talk a little more? …I want to hear more about you.”
In the moonlight spilling through the window, his eyes sparkled gently as they looked at Seo-joon. Even as the IV continued its slow drip beside him, Yeon-woo looked drowsy—likely drugged and hazy despite his words.
In the end, Seo-joon sat back down beside him.
What could he say to eighteen-year-old Cha Yeon-woo?
He didn’t know the details of the life Yeon-woo had led back then.
“…The summer you turned twenty.”
But what Seo-joon did know was that Yeon-woo’s life had never been easy.
“You were evaluated as a Guide… and got matched with me.”
Yeon-woo’s clear eyes widened with curiosity, twinkling in the dim light.
Seo-joon carefully chose his words. After all, to eighteen-year-old Yeon-woo—who’d only ever known school, part-time jobs, and visiting his brother in the hospital—this was all new, a story from a future he’d never imagined.
“You were so good at your job that Director Kang moved your brother’s hospital care into the Center itself…”
At the news that Jeong-woo had been able to receive proper treatment within the Center, Yeon-woo genuinely lit up. His eyes curved with joy, and Seo-joon found himself smiling too.
He explained everything as simply and calmly as he could—how they’d become lovers, how much he’d truly liked Yeon-woo.
Summarized like this, everything between them suddenly felt like an ordinary love story, no different from a thousand others.
“…But I made a huge mistake. I thought I was doing what was best, but it wasn’t what you wanted.”
He told him everything—that he had broken Yeon-woo’s trust, that Yeon-woo had risked his life to save someone as selfish as him.
“I promised I’d make you happy… I’m sorry. I left you alone and ended up causing all this again.”
Seo-joon stared at him with a composed face, suppressing the swell of emotion inside.
Revisiting their past like this, he felt a wave of guilt he’d long buried under the comfort of their love.
“I’m only still alive because of you. You made me who I am—everything, from head to toe… it all started with you.”
Yeon-woo looked into Seo-joon’s eyes closely.
Seo-joon, ever better at hiding his feelings than Yeon-woo, quickly smiled.
After all, it had been his ability to deceive so well that once led him to hurt Yeon-woo in the first place.
“…You must’ve been a really good person,” Yeon-woo said softly.
His hand crept toward Seo-joon’s and lightly hooked their pinkies together.
“I thought you would be. I knew you’d be a good person…”
I actually saw you a lot, you know. Every day…
I always thought you seemed like a really kind person… I really did…
His voice drifted in a soft, dreamlike haze—like someone speaking in their sleep.
Seo-joon couldn’t bring himself to return the gesture. He lowered his head.
He wanted to say, I’m not that good of a person. The good one… was you.
But his throat closed up, and no words came out.
Yeon-woo’s voice, small and clear, carried on.
“I’m really happy I got to meet you again… now that I’m older.”
“…”
“I want to remember you soon, too.”
The pinky he had been holding onto gently slipped away.
The IV beside him continued its slow drip.
Unable to resist the medication any longer, Yeon-woo slowly drifted back to sleep.
“…Good night, Yeon-woo.”
Seo-joon, unable to bring himself to touch him, simply pulled the blanket up quietly to cover him.