Marriage Mate: 8

At that moment, Yu-young’s fork came to a halt. He was on the verge of demanding a refund for the meal, considering he was sitting across from someone who could erase another person’s appetite in under a second.

Is he seriously clicking his tongue at me again…?! This, I cannot forgive.

“Hey. Why do you keep clicking your tongue at people?”

— “When did I?”

Whether Yu-young was fuming beside him or not, the man didn’t even turn his head in Yu-young’s direction. Sitting with an elegance as if he were part of a painting, he slowly placed a bite of salad into his mouth. His utter disregard for Yu-young was infuriating, prompting Yu-young to spring forward in agitation.

“You just did! I said it tastes amazing, and you went tsk right after!”

“Before you go blaming others, perhaps you should reflect on your own behavior first.” The man taunted in a smooth, composed voice.

“And, do you have proof?”

“…What?”

“Proof. That I clicked my tongue at you.”

Unbelievable. There was a limit to how insufferable someone could be… and this guy had far surpassed it. For a brief moment, Yu-young seriously entertained the scenario of using the steak knife in his hand. The man sitting directly beside him—no, practically pressed up against him—was just that unbearable.

Just as Yu-young was about to retort, the server returned, holding two plates of steak.

“Here is your order.”

The server placed the dishes down with an ambiguous smile. Even to an outsider, it must have looked ridiculous—two men sitting side by side, scowling as they ate identical meals.

Had I known this would happen, I would’ve made sure to order something else just to spite him.

Seething, Yu-young picked up his knife and stabbed it into the center of the steak, fighting the strong temptation to sink it into something—or someone—else instead.

Then, he heard it again. The distinct tsk sound.

Snapping his head around, eyes blazing, Yu-young glared at the man. But the other remained expressionless, calmly cutting his steak with practiced precision.

Now I’m even hearing things because of this bastard? No—what if I’m not? What if he actually did it again? He’s driving me insane.

Even as Yu-young fumed, the man continued eating with perfect, effortless grace. His table manners were so impeccable it was almost infuriating.

Hah. So what? What good is having great manners when your personality is garbage?

Still grumbling under his breath, Yu-young begrudgingly started eating as well. Watching the neatly cut steak pieces on his plate somehow improved his mood.

Fine. Since I’m eating anyway, I might as well enjoy it. It’d be an insult to this steak if I let that bastard ruin my appetite.

Popping a bite into his mouth, Yu-young barely managed to stop himself from exclaiming how delicious it was.

If I say that out loud again, he’ll click his tongue for sure—and then there really might be bloodshed.

(Especially since he still had a knife in his hand.)

Surprisingly, the man didn’t provoke him further. Instead, he simply continued eating, maintaining his poised, straight-backed posture. Yu-young, too, forced himself to focus solely on his meal, avoiding the other man entirely.

For a while, they ate in silence, an uneasy peace settling over the table.

…What is this feeling?

A strange, soft sensation wrapped around Yu-young’s body—warm and oddly pleasant. It was like lying down on a freshly fluffed cotton blanket right after a shower, enveloped in comfort.

Instinctively, he flinched, but soon realization struck him.

Pheromones? …They’re kind of nice.

He didn’t want to admit it, but the man’s scent was intoxicatingly soothing.

Any omega—no, every omega—would fall for this scent in an instant.

Before he knew it, he was inhaling deeply. The lingering chill he’d been feeling since that morning started to fade, the stiffness in his body gradually loosening.

Still, Yu-young scoffed.

It’s probably just the massage I got earlier. There’s no way this is because of him. No matter how exceptional of a dominant alpha he might be.

Besides, Yu-young’s own pheromones weren’t lacking in the slightest. His scent was so potent that random alphas had trailed after him on the street just from catching a whiff of it. Creeps.

Lost in thought, he barely noticed when the server approached with a warm smile.

“Would you like coffee after your meal?”

“Yes.”

“We have hot and iced coffee. Which would you prefer?”

“I’ll have it hot.”

“I’ll have it ho—”

Yu-young’s voice overlapped with the man’s. He had originally intended to order hot drip coffee, but upon realizing they had chosen the same thing, he quickly changed his mind.

“…Actually, make mine iced.”

“Understood.”

Soon, the server returned with their drinks. Yu-young lifted his glass of iced coffee, swirling the ice cubes before taking a sip.

That was when he felt it—a slight pressure in his lower abdomen.

Damn. I need to pee.

Clearing his throat, he rose from his seat.

Even as he left, he couldn’t help but worry if the other man would make some snide remark about bathroom etiquette. But he didn’t seem interested at all.

Why am I even worried about his opinion? What am I, crazy?

Muttering under his breath, Yu-young washed his hands.

That guy is terrible for my mental health. I can’t believe he’s my neighbor…

Not that it mattered. In a fast-paced modern world, it wasn’t like they’d have any reason to interact. He’d just avoid bumping into him in the gym.

Glancing up, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His cheeks seemed unusually flushed.

Do I have a fever? Maybe I should actually see a doctor.

With that thought, he stepped out of the restroom.

From afar, the man was impossible to miss.

Even if Yu-young refused to acknowledge it, the combination of his striking pheromones and refined features made him stand out. Even omegas and passersby couldn’t help but stare.

Not that it matters. If only people knew how awful his personality is.

The man was still leisurely sipping his coffee, eyes fixed on his tablet. Scowling, Yu-young returned to his seat.

Thinking it over, there was no reason to keep sitting here fuming.

I should just take my coffee to go.

He was about to grab his things when—

“…Ah!”

The cry escaped before he could stop it.

Just as he was about to pick up his coffee, condensation had made the glass slippery, causing it to slip from his fingers.

No, no, no—!

Flailing, he barely managed to catch the cup before it shattered.

But the damage was already done.

A full cup’s worth of coffee splashed all over the man.

“Wait—!”

Dark brown liquid soaked into his pristine white shirt. Ice cubes flew through the air before scattering across the table.

Time seemed to slow.

Yu-young watched in horror as the man—drenched from chest to waist—grimaced but didn’t flinch.

Silence stretched painfully long.

Oh, I’m dead.

Panic-stricken, Yu-young fumbled for napkins, only to freeze at the man’s next words.

“How unoriginal.”

“…Huh?”

The man glanced at him, smirking.

“That same trick was already used at the other table. Can’t you come up with something more interesting?”

“…What the hell are you talking about?”

“No need for the dry-cleaning fee. Keep your business card.”

And with that, he walked past Yu-young without so much as glancing at the card.

“I don’t need your contact information.”