WOP Ch 8.4

This year, winter in the East was particularly harsh. The sky remained perpetually overcast, and heavy snow fell day after day. A man, glancing at the scenery outside the large window, turned his head at the sound of his name. Standing some distance away, with a goofy expression, was a figure holding rings in both hands.

[Which one is better? What do you think?]

[….]

Leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, the man offered no feedback, rendering the questioner’s intentions moot. The one-sided conversation had been going on for several minutes, filling the air of the jewelry store with an awkward tension.

[I think this design is better.]

[….]

[Hey, are you just going to stand there looking stupid?]

Shin Kwonjoo’s brow finally furrowed at the teasingly provocative tone.

[Damian, just pick anything. They all look the same to me, but if you’re so damn curious, just choose the most expensive one in the store. If this is the crucial matter you were talking about, I feel like reporting you to internal audit, so how about you stop asking questions.]

His glare was sharp and fierce enough to incinerate a person. Heartless bastard. Boyle, feeling guilty, grumbled inwardly without arguing back. It was certainly his fault for dragging Shin Kwonjoo, who was trying to leave after finishing an outside appointment, to the store under the pretense of an important matter. It was a miracle he even came without complaint, considering his temper. Indeed. Thinking of his old friend’s temperament, Boyle nodded to himself.

[Whether you care or not, I’m going to make Rosa cry with the perfect proposal.]

[What’s the point of that?]

[I’ll return those words to you when you’re picking out a ring, so just wait.]

When Boyle glared, Shin Kwonjoo chuckled and glanced indifferently at the displayed jewelry. Even that brief interest faded quickly, and he soon checked his phone with a bored expression. Realizing what the silence implied, Boyle clicked his tongue.

[What, you’re not going to get matching rings with Yoon? You’ve been dating for a long time.]

[So?]

[Aren’t you preparing to make it official? Wouldn’t you need rings for that?]

Like this, for example. Boyle, after much deliberation, picked up the ring he had finally chosen and waved it teasingly. Shin Kwonjoo shook his head, annoyance evident on his face.

[You go ahead and enjoy yourself.]

[You’re even less romantic than me. That’s the worst!]

He teased and provoked, but in truth, Boyle was the one lacking romance. He hadn’t properly proposed due to the heavy workload and projects of the past few weeks, and his relationship with his girlfriend was even on shaky ground. Recalling the serious conversations he’d had with Rosa over the past few days, Boyle added in a dejected voice,

[Don’t regret it later. Look at me, I can’t say a word to Rosa right now, and I can’t win against her no matter what I try.]

[Who can you blame but yourself, Damian? And more importantly, I’m not the one you should be talking to right now.]

His sharply defined, arrogant face tilted in a certain direction. There stood a store employee, looking uncomfortably at the two men engaged in their pointed conversation.

The two men left the store after their perfunctory shopping trip. The sky, which had been calm before they left the headquarters, was now snowing heavily again. The roads were on the verge of being paralyzed by the blizzard. Annoyed by the time wasted on an unrelated matter, Shin Kwonjoo unconsciously frowned. Boyle, trying to ignore his colleague’s sharp demeanor, grumbled nonchalantly.

[Cheer up. I’m the one who should be annoyed, having gone to Toronto in your place.]

[Don’t milk it, Boyle. I think I’ve already repaid you and your fiancée enough.]

Shin Kwonjoo smiled wryly and tapped the dial of his wristwatch. It was an indirect way of saying he had already wasted more than enough time because of Boyle. Ignoring him, Boyle continued,

[I wasn’t entirely joking about what I said earlier. You and Yoon have been together for a long time. Don’t you think you should solidify things a bit? It’s not like marriage is impossible now. Don’t tell me you’re planning to just keep dating? Do you perhaps not like the idea of same-sex marriage? I understand it’s not easy, but there are ways.]

[The novel you’re writing won’t even make it to Amazon.]

[Oh dear, I pity Yoon for trusting you.]

[You’re meddling.]

The man cut him off firmly, tilting his head to the left and pointing in the opposite direction with his other hand. It was a sign that they should part ways. Boyle, muttering something, reluctantly turned around and shot him a glare.

[I truly pity Yoon. To borrow your expression, what’s the big deal about a ring?]

[If you don’t know, shut up, Damian.]

[I understand, so stop glaring at me so menacingly. I should call Rosa. Anyway, thanks for coming with me, even though you weren’t any help in choosing a ring. Let’s have dinner tomorrow.]

Shin Kwonjoo waved his hand dismissively, his face showing he couldn’t be bothered to answer. Boyle continued to complain about how heartless he was and how Joyoon should know about his terrible personality, but it didn’t last long. The biting wind finally prompted Boyle to go his own way.

[….]

Only after the incessant noise had completely faded did a sigh escape his lips. The man, his face expressionless, took out his cigarette case, then hesitated. He stood still for a moment, staring at somewhere in the distance through the falling snow, before turning and walking away.

❄

It had been a busy day. He had been running around with heavy equipment since morning, and by afternoon, his legs were trembling with exhaustion. The traffic-jammed roads were a cacophony of noise. Amidst the busyness, his steps towards his destination were slow but light.

— So, you ditched Boyle?

“He’s been calling me since this morning. He wants to have dinner together.”

— Why don’t you have dinner with him? He’s started calling me now.

“You’re trying to pass him off to me, aren’t you? He’s already complaining that you don’t answer his calls anymore, Sunbae.”

— He’s going overboard. He’s even resorting to lying to get me to meet him now that I’m not playing along.

“Anyway, I’m going to pass tonight. If Boyle starts talking about marriage, it’ll go on all night. Last time, we kept talking until we got kicked out because it was closing time.”

— Right, I remember that. Oh, thank you.

Music played from the other end of the line after a brief goodbye.

“Where did you go?”

— A cafe.

“Why a cafe?”

— I have a meeting with an informant. I arrived a little early, so I’ll have to wait for them.

“Which cafe?”

— The place we went to before. I don’t know if you’ll remember.

The snow, which had paused briefly, began to fall again. The roads were still icy from the heavy snowfall all last week. Walking carefully to avoid slipping, Joyoon teased affectionately,

“Where could it be… we’ve been to so many places together, I don’t know.”

— Don’t be silly.

A low chuckle followed.

— Anyway, it’s cold, so don’t wander around outside, just go inside. And don’t skip meals just because you say you’re not hungry.

The tone was gruff, but every word was laced with concern and care. It was amazing how naturally he could sense his lover’s feelings. Joyoon thought for a moment, then suggested his plan for the evening.

“It takes less than an hour to get to the Capitol Building by subway from here. What time will you be done? I want to wait and have dinner together.”

— Well, considering the nature of the matter and how important the informant is, I don’t know if it’ll end quickly. But I think it might be over before six. So, you’ll wait? I mean, you might have to wait a while… Knowing you, you’ll probably starve yourself if I leave you alone.

Shin Kwonjoo knew his lover’s lifestyle and habits like the back of his hand. Rather than offering a weak rebuttal, Joyoon chose the best response he could give.

“Then I’ll go.”

— Alright. Then come this way first. But don’t wander around, just go inside. You hate the cold, but you sure do like walking around.

“I get it. You nag too much. I’ll hang up now.”

— Okay. See you later.

The short but long call ended.

After a year-long external filming project, Joyoon returned to Washington D.C. The two, finally in sync, had been living together for six months now. They woke and slept in the same time zone, heard each other’s whispers up close, and could freely touch each other’s warmth. The meaning of living together brought them both a growing sense of fulfillment with each passing year.

“I should take the subway. What should we eat for dinner….”

Humming along to the music drifting from afar, Joyoon quickened his pace towards the subway station. Even the biting cold couldn’t stop him.

The two were living their lives, unchanged and as always. Despite their different pursuits within the dense flow of time, they remained dedicated to their respective fields while cherishing the time they shared. Thus, they clumsily yet meticulously synchronized their lives. Even if they were temporarily separated by work, they made sure to spend enough time together to fill the void, allowing their worn and weary hearts to soak in and be replenished.

Longing was another name for love.

Arriving in the city center, Joyoon found a cafe to spend a few hours. The subway’s heating system had malfunctioned, and he needed a place to thaw out.

“Ah, so cold…”

While securing a table and setting up his laptop, he constantly checked his phone. His lover hadn’t yet read the message he sent before leaving.

“Is he busy?”

Knowing that his lover rarely looked at his phone during work, Joyoon rummaged through his bag, intending to work while he waited. Just in case, he sent another message with the name and location of the cafe, asking Shin Kwonjoo to contact him when he was finished. He knew his lover would find him.

“Hmm, hmm.”

With his laptop powered on, Joyoon skillfully opened several folders.

Click.

The screen filled with photos he had taken over the past few months. This project was quite large, potentially a turning point in his career, and more importantly, a good opportunity for reflection on his feelings towards his subjects.

As always, the gap between the world seen through the viewfinder and the world outside was the same yet different. The gaze that captured a specific moment sometimes returned with the same depth as time passed, and sometimes with a completely different density and feeling. This moment, too, would someday become the past, a memory, a longing.

[….]

Joyoon rested his chin on his hand, imagining his and Shin Kwonjoo’s future.

How would he have changed by then? What about Shin Kwonjoo? What would their relationship be like?

As time went on, he grew more curious about the distant future.

Bzzz.

Suddenly, the loud vibration on the table startled Joyoon out of his thoughts. He looked at the screen and saw a familiar name. The caller was Boyle. A playful glint entered his gentle eyes.

“Boyle, please.”

With all due respect, Boyle was long off work. If it were an important matter or a breaking news alert, he would have received a call through the intranet voice call system first. The distinctly different vibration allowed Joyoon to guess Boyle’s reason for calling. It was undoubtedly the agonizing over marriage that had been plaguing him for the past few days. Unfortunately, Joyoon didn’t have the time to listen to his complaints and anxieties today. Above all, he didn’t want his time with his lover to be interrupted.

“No way.”

Joyoon grinned, flipped his phone over, and focused on the screen. He spent several minutes agonizing over which photos resonated with him the most.

Bzzz.

However, the vibration started again soon after. His scrolling through the photos stopped. He checked again, just in case, but the caller was still Boyle.

“Boyle, you’re off work today. I’m sorry.”

He flipped the phone over without hesitation. He felt a pang of guilt, but he couldn’t help it after hearing the same thing for days. Joyoon chuckled and rested his chin on his hand. Although a bit excessive, he understood Boyle’s anxiety before such an important event.

What is the final form of love?

Marriage,

Or family.

The news he heard from those around him occasionally made Joyoon, who experienced love in a slightly different form, contemplate. He imagined various futures with Shin Kwonjoo. Despite countless hours spent together, they had never discussed concrete plans. Part of the reason was their belief that institutions merely defined forms. Joyoon’s expression grew serious as he continued his train of thought.

‘Have I been relying on him too much?’

Had he ever given his partner the same reassurance he received?

A new question arose.

Most of the major decisions, including the decision to live together, had been made by Shin Kwonjoo, and Joyoon had always complied without complaint. He had never felt dissatisfied, but there was no guarantee that his lover felt the same way.

He wanted to be with him for a long time. He wanted to be more stable, feel a stronger bond, and be integrated into each other’s lives. He wanted to grow old together, leaning on each other even as wrinkles appeared and their strength faded.

A sudden surge of longing warmed his cheeks. A silly smile crept onto his face just from imagining it. He thought it might be good to initiate a serious conversation tonight. Making this resolution, Joyoon began to focus on his monitor. Love was love, and work was work.

Amidst the music and chatter filling the cafe, only the sounds of the mouse wheel and keyboard continued. Just as he was about to concentrate, another vibration made him tilt his head.

Could it be this time? But it was Boyle again.

Now he was getting suspicious. Damian Boyle was persistent, but not to this extent. At this point, it could be a work-related issue or a serious problem between the two. He had plenty of time before meeting Shin Kwonjoo since he had just arrived.

“If I don’t reply, he’ll keep doing this all day.”

Just as he grumbled and reached for the answer button, the call disconnected. If he left it like this, Boyle would keep calling until he answered, so it was better to call him first. As he was looking through his missed calls, a message notification popped up. It seemed Boyle had sent a text since he wasn’t answering the calls.

“Why is it so long?”

The message was unbelievably long for one sent in such a short time, too long to fit on a single screen. He smiled indifferently and began to read Boyle’s message, his expression slowly freezing.

[….]

His eyes trembled as he read the code at the very beginning. It was an internal TPA code used to alert staff of emergencies. What followed was unbelievable.

Washington D.C.

Suicide bombing

Capitol Building

Terrorism

Company employees at the scene

Breaking news… Breaking news…

Breaking news.

Crash—!

The device, loosely held in his trembling hand, clattered to the floor. He didn’t even have the time to gather his belongings. Unable to even scream, Ha Joyoon grabbed his phone and ran out of the cafe. He stumbled and fell repeatedly as he ran, but he never stopped.

“Gasp, gasp.”

His footsteps were frantic. The rising sobs, his ragged breathing, and the dizziness made it hard to tell whether the current situation was real or a nightmare. Joyoon couldn’t tell if he was on a street, a road, inside, outside, or anywhere. Tears welled up and streamed down his face, defying the wind.

‘It’s cold, so don’t wander around outside, just go inside. You hate the cold, but you sure do like walking around.’

No…

‘Okay. I’ll be waiting. See you tonight.’

Tell me it’s not true. Please tell me it’s not… not true.

‘Joyoon.’

Between his gasps, every aspect of the person he cherished flooded his senses, filling the gaps.

How many scenarios had he imagined?

Sometimes his own death, a tragic end, their final moments, separation, loneliness, loss.

But in none of those scenarios had Shin Kwonjoo’s death ever existed. Even if he died, he had never considered the possibility of Shin Kwonjoo dying. He had never imagined a time without him.

He had never considered the possibility of losing the person he loved, the people he loved, the time and memories with the people he loved.

Tears blurring his vision, Joyoon remembered the people who had endured years of pain due to his disappearance.

Was this what the hell of losing a loved one felt like?

This must have been how they felt.

How did they endure it? This fear, this terror.

I… I….

Stumbling and falling repeatedly, Joyoon wept uncontrollably. A suffocating fear overwhelmed him. He felt he couldn’t live. If that person didn’t exist in the world, if his traces disappeared, he truly believed he couldn’t go on.

And he finally faced the arrogance he had been denying.

The resolve he thought he had held his entire life was an illusion. The courage he believed he had built was a precarious sandcastle on shaky ground. The stoic resolve he had maintained while covering war zones was a selfish mindset possible only because he had only considered himself. Faced with the opposite situation, his world turned upside down, shaking the very foundation of Ha Joyoon, the journalist.

The reality Joyoon faced after barely making it to the hospital was even more cruel than he had imagined. Medical staff rushing around, emergency patients being brought in covered in blood, and the cries of their families that sounded like screams. Amidst all this, Joyoon felt powerless, unable to do anything or make any decisions as his unconscious lover lay before him.

Lover, friend, colleague.

No word could prove that they were not complete strangers.

❄

Everything was silent.

Not even the slightest sound. It was dark, and the windows were covered with blinds, making it impossible to tell the time. His mind was clear, but his body was heavy, as if he were dreaming while awake. Was this a hospital? He turned his head and saw a familiar face in the dim light. Shin Kwonjoo blinked a few times, saw Joyoon asleep at the foot of the bed, and chuckled softly.

“Here.”

He tried to sit up, but his body wouldn’t obey. He felt a dull ache here and there. Shin Kwonjoo then noticed the IV lines and various medical devices tangled around him. Wondering if his condition was serious, he wiggled his fingers, but they moved without issue. His legs and other body parts were the same. Looking around, he realized he was in a private room, albeit a standard hospital room. He felt slight aches, but no nerve or muscle damage. After a brief assessment, he finished analyzing the situation and his condition.

“Hmm.”

A wave of dizziness washed over him. Shin Kwonjoo closed his eyes for a moment to let it subside. In the quiet darkness, listening to the calm rhythm of his breathing, he pieced together the events leading up to this point. The last memory before losing consciousness followed.

He had been about to leave the cafe after receiving a call from the informant, who said they had arrived nearby. He’d wanted to move to a more private location. Thinking back on his movements, Shin Kwonjoo clicked his tongue. He’d experienced his fair share of incidents, but had there ever been an accident as unpredictable as this? The screams and the explosion from inside the cafe the moment he stepped outside. He instinctively knew something had happened, but his thoughts couldn’t continue.

[….]

In that brief moment when he thought he might die, it wasn’t the much-discussed events of his past life that flashed through his mind.

Just,

yes,

that gentle and kind face.

“Did you sleep well?”

Shin Kwonjoo turned his gaze, a rare look of surprise on his face, at the sound of a voice that appeared without any preceding presence. Joyoon was already sitting up straight, having apparently woken up, and quietly greeted him. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, was pale.

“You weren’t sleeping? I thought you were.”

“I was just resting my eyes.”

His voice was devoid of energy. His already pale face was now completely bloodless. One might believe Joyoon was the patient, not him.

“I see. But why here…?”

“This is a hospital. I’m fine. I have some bruises, but nothing serious. They said I lost consciousness from the shock.”

The question wasn’t about the location, but why Joyoon was sleeping there, but Shin Kwonjoo didn’t bother correcting him. He judged that there was no point in clarifying the facts to his clearly distraught lover. Other things were more important right now.

“Yes, I’m asking because you seem fine physically. You’re in the hospital, but you’re not seriously injured.”

“Of course I’m in the hospital, I was unconscious. They said there’s nothing seriously wrong, not that I’m perfectly fine.”

Joyoon gave a weak laugh, as if finding his words absurd. A fleeting warmth touched his pale face. He turned on the small lamp attached to the headboard and settled into the chair for visitors. His nervously intertwined fingers reflected his unstable emotional state.

“How long have you been like this?”

“About a week. I was completely unconscious for the first two days, and from the third day, I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Do you remember?”

“No.”

“You were really lucky. It seems the bomber entered through the other emergency exit. It was a bit away from the entrance where you were, Sunbae, and the bomb of the agent who came in that way wasn’t that powerful. There were also a lot of unexploded bombs. Actually, there were more casualties outside and on the other side. Thankfully, no one died… but many of the injured were ordinary citizens.”

Surprised by the larger-than-expected scale of the incident, Shin Kwonjoo let out an involuntary chuckle. His face registered astonishment when he heard the information about the perpetrators. They were an armed group belonging to a country recently embroiled in civil war, enemies of the informant he was supposed to meet. He knew they were deeply resentful of the White House’s recent decisions, but he hadn’t expected something like this to happen in the heart of the United States, of all places.

“They did something crazy in the middle of the city. I’ll have to look into it when I get back.”

“The doctor said you need to rest for a while. Boyle is covering for you, Sunbae, so don’t worry too much. You absolutely mustn’t overexert yourself.”

His calm voice melted into the darkness. Joyoon was grateful that the hospital room’s lighting was dim, and he brushed his cheek. If his lover saw his face clearly now, his patched-up emotions would be exposed.

“Don’t worry, I’m in no condition to do anything.”

“Oh, your family came. I couldn’t do anything.”

Shin Kwonjoo’s expression shifted to bewilderment.

“My family came?”

“Yes. Your parents.”

“How did they contact you? You don’t know them.”

“Boyle contacted them. They both arrived shortly after I got to the hospital. They took care of the tests, the admission procedures….”

“Are you alright?”

Joyoon asked back with a dry face at the short question.

“What?”

“You seem very shaken. Your face is pale.”

“…What are you talking about? You’re the patient, Sunbae.”

Joyoon paused, then spoke cautiously, his lips trembling as he tried to force a smile. Relief and anxiety mingled on his pale face. Shin Kwonjoo, watching him quietly, chuckled and continued the conversation lightly, as if joking.

“I’m just asking because I was wondering if my parents said anything harsh to you.”

“No, not at all. They weren’t like that at all. They were very polite and considerate of me.”

“Really?”

They’re not like that. Muttering softly, Shin Kwonjoo chuckled wryly. He was thinking of his father, his mirror image, and his rather hysterical mother. They might have given up by now, but when he first told them about his relationship with Joyoon, they had reacted with fury. Of course, he had blocked all possible contact routes, so his lover would never know.

“They’re not like that.”

“It’s true. They were really nice to me.”

At Joyoon’s unusually firm response, Shin Kwonjoo finally conceded. He understood. It would have been difficult to speak harshly to someone looking so distraught. Joyoon looked so unwell that it was hard to tell who the injured party was. It was time to stop the jokes meant to lighten the mood.

“But why do you look like that? Your face is completely pale.”

“Can you show me a mirror? You look worse, Sunbae.”

“Give me your hand.”

With a look that suggested he didn’t care about his own condition, Shin Kwonjoo reached out to Joyoon. Not wanting to push his injured lover, Joyoon extended his hand. A large hand enveloped his, holding it tightly.

“Your hand is freezing.”

“Is it?”

“Come here.”

“I’m fine…”

“Joyoon.”

[….]

“I’m not comfortable moving. Come on.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, so don’t move.”

At the gesture that suggested he would come over if Joyoon didn’t, Joyoon instinctively got up and stopped Shin Kwonjoo. Even if he wasn’t seriously injured, he had just regained consciousness.

“You shouldn’t strain yourself.”

He should be lying down without moving a finger. He was told to rest completely and not move. He shouldn’t be moving.

“I’m not going to die from this.”

“You really shouldn’t…”

Joyoon bit his lip anxiously. The fear and anxiety he had been suppressing threatened to burst forth. His heart ached, his fingertips tingled with fear, and he quickly moved closer. He didn’t want to show weakness to someone who had just regained consciousness. Negative emotions spread like wildfire.

“Were you very scared?”

The stubborn man finally got his way and pulled Joyoon into a hug. Held awkwardly, Joyoon couldn’t control his anxiety and his eyes darted around. His hands hovered uncertainly, unable to fully embrace or pull away from Shin Kwonjoo.

“You must have been really scared.”

“…A little.”

At the unusually slow and dazed response, Shin Kwonjoo finally let out a laugh.

“Joyoon, Joyoon, you have to pull yourself together. Okay?”

[….]

He was barely maintaining his composure, but he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Joyoon bit his chapped lip instead of replying.

Only the sound of their breathing filled the silence. His heart thumped somewhere deep within his skin and muscles. It was proof that the man in front of him was alive. Joyoon, pretending to be calm, looked down at the hospital floor before gently nuzzling his cheek against Shin Kwonjoo’s shoulder. His stiff hands finally began to move. Another sound added weight to the silence. His labored breathing gradually slowed, then trembled again. Ah, it was Shin Kwonjoo’s breath.

Tears he couldn’t hold back flowed silently.

“Are you crying?”

Shin Kwonjoo’s dark eyes, looking directly at him, were filled with bewilderment.

“I’m not crying.”

“Why are you crying? I’m so fine that it’s almost comical that I’m even here.”

“What do you mean, ‘fine’? Can’t you see the bandages? And they said you need to get your head checked just in case. You had all the basic tests while you were unconscious, so we just have to wait for the results.”

His voice became increasingly thick with tears. As his nose started to clog, Shin Kwonjoo chuckled softly and patted Joyoon’s back, sensing he was about to burst into tears.

“Honestly. Were you that scared?”

“Just…”

“Just?”

He gently pulled away his lover, who was clinging to him like a baby duck. Joyoon’s small, pale face, illuminated by the dim light, was wet with tears he didn’t know how long he’d been shedding. He whispered in a daze, without even attempting to wipe his tears,

“You were unconscious, Sunbae… and there was nothing I could do.”

“The only people who can do anything for an unconscious person are medical professionals.”

Shin Kwonjoo replied, looking rather flustered. It sounded like a reprimand, but in reality, it was a clumsy attempt at comfort amidst his bewilderment. Even after all these years, he still felt helpless and foolish when his lover cried.

“That’s not it….”

Joyoon weakly pushed against Shin Kwonjoo’s chest.

“Then what is it?”

“In that situation… I was a stranger.”

It was an unexpected statement. Shin Kwonjoo took a deep breath and hugged Joyoon. The warmth of his sniffles warmed the place where they touched.

“I was just a stranger… there was nothing I could do for you, Sunbae… No matter how I looked at it, I was just a close colleague… an acquaintance… a senior and junior… The hospital staff kept saying I was a stranger and couldn’t make any decisions, no matter how much I tried to explain.”

That’s because of medical law… Shin Kwonjoo’s attempt to calmly explain stopped as he saw Joyoon’s state.

“Sob…”

Sobs escaped through his trembling lips. Unable to hold back any longer, Joyoon cried out loud and hugged Shin Kwonjoo tightly.

“We’ve been together for so long, we love each other, we live together…”

“Joyoon.”

“They said we were strangers, Sunbae.”

Once his carefully maintained composure crumbled, there was no stopping the flood. Tears flowed upon tears, and fresh waves of sorrow washed over him. Unlike his pale face, his eyes were red and swollen.

The time it took to reach the hospital was also the time he didn’t know whether his lover was alive or dead.

If hell existed, was this it? Was this the karmic retribution for the pain he had caused his family and loved ones? Joyoon desperately sought God while regretting every moment of his past. Shin Kwonjoo, gently wiping away his tears, pulled Joyoon into another embrace and patted his back. The sobs didn’t subside easily. After a while, he asked calmly,

“You must have been very upset.”

“I felt frustrated and helpless.”

The medical staff had all said the same thing to Joyoon as he desperately pleaded and shouted to be let in. They were sorry, but there was nothing they could do. He had to wait. He couldn’t see him yet. He couldn’t meet him. Because he wasn’t family, because he was a stranger. It felt like waking up from a precarious dream.

“You don’t have to be so upset.”

“…I thought I might never see you again.”

His tightly bitten lip trembled. In the face of such a sudden and unexpected accident, the actions a legally unrelated stranger could take were pathetic and insignificant. In that helpless situation, all Joyoon could do was wait, with no promise of an end. That was their reality.

“Sunbae.”

His stuffy voice sounded ridiculous. His shirt was soaked with tears. Joyoon clutched at the fabric with trembling hands. With every shake of his head, tears flowed down his cheeks. Everyone said it wasn’t a serious injury, that he should be relieved, but he hated it. He hated and feared seeing his lover in this state. He enjoyed seeing Shin Kwonjoo outside of the usual work environment, but not like this. He never wanted to see this again.

“Yes.”

Complete silence followed. The conversation stalled, but Shin Kwonjoo patiently waited for Joyoon, his heart filled with a slow but heavy and sincere affection for the man who was a bit slower than others, but just as deep and serious.

After a long silence, Joyoon finally called out to him with difficulty.

“Sunbae.”

“Yes.”

“Sunbae….”

Joyoon repeated the words several times, his voice choked with emotion. Shadows flickered in his downcast eyes. The events of the past few days unfolded like a panorama. He also remembered the agonizing helplessness of having to rely on blood relatives while he could do nothing. There was nothing more terrifying than being unable to do anything when a loved one was in danger, being unable to share in their pain.

“Sunbae.”

“What is it?”

Despite the repeated calls, Shin Kwonjoo answered calmly, without a hint of annoyance. Joyoon clumsily embraced him, feeling the familiar scent and the comforting beat of his heart. These were the things he thought he might lose forever. They had become so commonplace that he couldn’t even imagine them disappearing.

“Will you…”

“Yes.”

“Will you be family with me?”

“Family?”

Shin Kwonjoo asked back with a strange expression, as if the words were unexpected. The tremor in his voice deepened.

“Will you… be family with me? Family who can do something for each other, no matter what happens.”

As if struggling to shake off the tangled emotions, Joyoon sniffled. His breathing was ragged, making it difficult to calm down.

“Do what?”

The light of the night rippled across the man’s face as he asked, feigning nonchalance. His expression was unreadable.

“Anything… so that in situations like this, I can take responsibility as family…”

“Are you crying again?”

Shin Kwonjoo clicked his tongue and wiped Joyoon’s cheek. The tears wouldn’t stop, no matter how many times he wiped them away. Joyoon slowly rubbed his cheek against his lover’s large, firm hand. He never wanted to lose this warmth again.

“I was so scared… that something might really happen to you, Sunbae….”

“I’m fine, I told you.”

“I was so distraught because I couldn’t do anything.”

The despair he felt after the incident was immeasurable. Joyoon didn’t think he could go through that terrible sense of loss and helplessness again. This incident wasn’t just a simple mishap. It was a terrorist attack that shattered the vague ideals he had formed and plunged his beliefs to rock bottom. While completely engulfed in despair, Joyoon thought and thought. What had he been doing all this time? Hadn’t the work he considered justice and duty actually been a deception to those who had lost loved ones? Hadn’t the relationship he thought was completely fulfilling actually been one where, like sand, everything slipped through his fingers, a relationship that turned its back on responsibility? He was largely to blame for not facing reality.

“I want to be family with you, Sunbae.”

Therefore, Ha Joyoon wished that he and Shin Kwonjoo could make more realistic and feasible choices for each other in the situations they might face or witness while doing their jobs. This was the thought and worry that had repeated itself day and night for days as he sat in the small chair, waiting for Shin Kwonjoo to wake up.

“…This is ridiculous.”

At the earnest plea delivered with such a serious expression, Shin Kwonjoo finally let out a sigh laced with laughter. He lifted Joyoon’s chin to meet his gaze. Tears flowed like a faucet from his swollen, childlike eyes.

“If we become family…”

“If we’re family… I can do something, like your parents, I can do something in situations like this… so wouldn’t it be good if we became family?”

“I’m really curious, is this your way of proposing?”

“Huh?”

At the unexpected question, Joyoon gasped and met Shin Kwonjoo’s eyes. The sound of him sniffling continued for a while. Shin Kwonjoo shrugged, feigning exaggerated surprise.

“Are you proposing to me in a hospital room?”

“Yes, yes? Pro…?”

“There’s someone even worse than me.”

“That’s not it, Sunbae….”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s not it’? What other way is there for you and me to become family besides marriage?”

Shin Kwonjoo continued his interrogation with his arms crossed. Despite his disappointed tone, he couldn’t hide the amusement in his expression. Joyoon, oblivious to this, stammered out a clumsy excuse, remembering his lover’s past warning to be careful about their relationship becoming public.

“That, that is… we can just keep it quiet, right? Sob, I don’t go out with you, Sunbae, and our houses… we can get separate places nearby… and I’ll keep it low-key. We don’t have to tell everyone…”

Shin Kwonjoo tilted his head at the halting words.

“Then why get married? We’ll see each other even less than now.”

“Is that how it is? …I’m sorry. But… I could do something in case of accidents like today.”

“As if this will happen again. You think this kind of thing will happen again?”

“That’s not what I meant… I’m not good with words… Sunbae…”

His impatience turned into frustration. Giving up on explaining, Joyoon covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. He felt incredibly stupid. In his current state, everything he said would sound foolish. He didn’t want to burden his lover with his fears, but he couldn’t hide his overflowing emotions.

“Joyoon.”

Just as self-deprecation began to creep in, a strong force enveloped him. It was a grip that refused to let go. Shin Kwonjoo hugged his huddled lover and buried his face in his shoulder. In the silence, he could hear Joyoon sniffling.

“This is a proposal.”

“That’s not it, Sunbae…”