F3

There’s someone in Room 415.

That would be the obvious conclusion in this situation.

But Yeonho had started doubting even what his own eyes could see. The photo of the stranger’s hand, the red handprint on his wrist, they were clearly visible, but what if they weren’t real? If he could mistake a clear day for a foggy one and confuse suitcase colors, then wasn’t it entirely possible that he was hallucinating?

He was mentally exhausted. It felt like every last bit of energy had been drained from his body. He was too old to cry over something like this, and yet tears fell. It wasn’t fear. It was misery.

He didn’t even pity himself. He was just tired of being Joo Yeonho.

Breathing felt like a burden. Losing time, being unable to understand what had happened, it was pathetic. He couldn’t trust what he heard or saw. He knew the pills he took only made things worse, but he couldn’t stop, only became more addicted. And at this rate, one day, he’d die without even realizing it…

He couldn’t keep his body upright or open his eyes.

His body was asleep, but the effects of the pills were wearing off, leaving his mind half-awake, caught in the fog of sleep paralysis, sprawled across the stairs.

Just as he was suffering at the threshold between sleep and waking, he heard footsteps.

Then someone lifted him up effortlessly.

Trapped now in paralysis rather than sleepwalking, Yeonho assumed this too had to be a dream.

There weren’t many people who could so easily carry his 181-centimeter frame. (5’11)

He had no strength to resist and accepted this unreality, eyes still closed.

Even with his eyes shut, he could guess what was happening.

Whoever was carrying him began to descend the stairs with heavy steps, then stopped in the hallway, loosened the strap of the master key tangled in his limp fingers, and used it to open Room 315.

He was placed gently on the bed. A hand began to softly stroke his hair, then caress his cheek with care.

The person lay down beside him and pulled him close, holding him tightly.

Was this the final stage of sleep disorder? Was he hallucinating a spirit lover?

Though nervous about his first “encounter,” the man in his dream did nothing more than gently pat his back and press kisses to his forehead and nose. He didn’t kiss his lips, just rubbed them gently with his fingers, as if telling him to sleep peacefully in his arms.

Yeonho had experienced hallucinations of sight, sound, and touch during sleep paralysis, but never smell. Yet now, he was picking up the musky scent of the man embracing him like a baby deer.

When he pressed in deeper, there was a sweet vanilla undertone.

Overwhelmed by the illusion gripping all five of his senses, Yeonho felt a sense of calm and finally drifted into true sleep.

He woke up to bright sunlight on the bed, not in a basement or on a rooftop. As expected, no one lay beside him. There was no sign that anyone had entered.

The red mark on his wrist was gone, and so were the three photos of Room 415.

So, what part of yesterday had been real, and what had been fake?

He checked his sleep tracker.

To his astonishment, it recorded a full eight hours of uninterrupted rest.

The sky outside was a painted blue, so clear it felt like you could see the stars with the naked eye when night came.

It was the first time in five years he’d felt this refreshed. If that young man from his “dream” came every night to help him sleep like that, maybe he could start cutting down on the pills. Not completely, but still.

Stretching and reaching for his shower, Yeonho stood to put on his slippers.

But then he froze.

Just for a moment, he’d heard it again, a low thump from the ceiling.

His eyes drifted to the master key on the table.

Naturally, the next thought that followed was: While I’m still in my right mind, I should go check Room 415 again and confirm if someone’s really staying there.

Wrapping the master key’s strap around the fingers of his left hand and launching the camera app with his right, Yeonho thought:

Was I like this yesterday too? Am I trapped in some kind of endless loop, reliving the same thing like in hell, thinking I’m sane right now when maybe I’m not?

That idea instantly crushed whatever light mood he’d had.

Climbing the stairs back to the fourth floor, he opened Room 415 with the master key and took a photo of the open room.

He thought, Maybe these memories will vanish too, and I’ll just wake up on the stairs again, as if today never happened. Trapped forever in the hell between the third and fourth floors. Until someone finally forces me into a psych ward. Yeonho’s phone captured an image of the room.

The photo he thought he had taken yesterday was gone, but he still remembered it.

This time, there was one small difference, a bathrobe was lying on the floor. Even so, Yeonho didn’t fully believe someone was there.

Soon, some man would probably appear, try to stop him from taking a picture. He would capture the man’s large hand just before it gripped his wrist. Then he’d faint again, and wake up not knowing what was real. Yeonho strode boldly into Room 415.

From inside the bathroom, he heard the sound of running water. This is another hallucination, right? Then it’s fine if I check. It won’t matter.

After yesterday’s chaos, he had nothing left to fear.

Without hesitation, he flung the bathroom door open.

“….”

“….”

The water stopped.

For a long moment, silence filled the air.

A man stood under the square showerhead, nearly tall enough that the top of his head was just beneath it.

He was completely naked, dripping wet, and staring at Yeonho in shock.

Yeonho lowered his phone without resistance, but didn’t look away.

He slipped it into his pocket, shoved his hands in as well. And with the fierce, venomous eyes that his grandmother and the Moon Sea Fairy detested, he stared the man down from head to toe and asked,

“Who are you?”

“That’s what I should be asking. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Yeonho didn’t flinch. He met the man’s gaze head-on. The man, with jet-black hair and eyes, thick lashes, and stunning features, was both sharply handsome and beautiful.

This, Yeonho thought, is what “beautiful” actually looks like. Not me.

His eyes moved slowly down the man’s strong neck, past broad shoulders and firm pecs, so much more muscular than his own scrawny frame.

He didn’t stop there. Yeonho took in everything, even the man’s impressive size, before stepping barefoot onto the wet tiles and shoving his face against the man’s shoulder.

Despite the stranger’s obvious shock, Yeonho leaned in close and sniffed, trying to confirm the scent.

There it was, the same musk and vanilla notes from last night’s “dream.”

“It’s you. The one who put me to sleep.”

He smiled faintly and murmured. In his mind, this was still a dream. The face, the body, the manhood–too unreal.

A figment of his imagination, created to soothe him into rest.

Yeonho lifted his head and looked up at the man who was just a hand taller than him.

When their eyes met at close range, the man’s black pupils trembled faintly.

Then, with a hot breath and a scowl, the man grabbed Yeonho’s chin with his wet hand, stepped back, and barked:

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

That was when Yeonho’s certainty crumbled.

Someone that harsh couldn’t have held him so gently the night before, like he was something small and fragile.Which meant, this wasn’t a hallucination or sleep spirit.

This man was real.

Yeonho crumpled to the floor, covering his face with both hands. Everything he was sure of kept falling apart.

Nothing made sense.

Not a single thing from yesterday could be explained.

“Haah…”

The man, now with a towel hastily wrapped around his waist, crouched in front of Yeonho and said:

“You’re being loud. Why are you the one acting like the victim? I’m the one who just had a mental breakdown.”

And Yeonho thought, Maybe I’m going to be dragged off to the police station in this guy’s hands today.

Well, that wouldn’t be so bad.

While he was at it, he could confess that he’d been overdosing on sleeping pills.

Tell the police plainly,

“I just wanted to sleep well, but I think I’m addicted. Please lock me up and help me.”

And this man, who had broken into someone else’s resort, used their water and electricity, and stayed without permission. He should be locked up too.