F61

Siwoo threw the bouquet of red roses and the card that Seong Junhee had sent straight into the trash without a second thought. Yeonho sat staring blankly out the window, completely out of it. Siwoo approached him from behind, wrapped his arms tightly around Yeonho’s waist, and brushed his lips against his nape.

“You’ve known each other for that long, and he still doesn’t know what kind of flowers you like?”

Yeonho’s favorite flower was the blue hydrangea. Anyone who had even a little interest in the photographs he took would know that. Most of the flowers in his work were in cool tones, with a particular abundance of vibrant blue hydrangeas. Siwoo had even heard once that Yeonho didn’t like red flowers. That was why, whenever he gave Yeonho a gift, he always made sure to include a blue hydrangea.

Yeonho slowly blinked and looked at the discarded red roses in the trash. Seong Junhee probably did know what kind of flowers he liked. He just wasn’t the type to choose flowers the receiver liked, he picked the flowers he liked.

What Seong Junhee had tried to cultivate over those 13 years was “a Joo Yeonho who liked red roses.” But Yeonho had grown into “a Joo Yeonho who loved blue hydrangeas.” That alone summed up their entire relationship.

There was no need to explain such pointless things to Siwoo. Yeonho simply placed his weight into the arms wrapped around his waist, gently stroking the back of Siwoo’s hand. Still in his arms, he let himself be drawn along, the two of them sitting down together, leaning against the headboard.

Siwoo kissed and sucked at Yeonho’s nape and shoulders, leaving behind clear marks. He didn’t feel like having sex with Yeonho right now. Even if Yeonho treated him like nothing more than a sex toy, Siwoo didn’t believe that was the only reason he had been called here. Somewhere deep down, he had hoped Yeonho still felt something for him.

But that hope was just a delusion. If they had sex in this state of misery, Siwoo felt like he’d break Yeonho completely. He didn’t trust himself to stay in control.

He slipped a hand under Yeonho’s sweater, touched his body as if to claim it, then stripped it off. He turned Yeonho around and pressed countless dark red hickeys into his pale chest and stomach. This was the most pain he could inflict on Yeonho’s body.

“Haah…”

“Will you leave in a few hours? I feel like some rent-by-the-hour whore on a business trip.”

At Siwoo’s biting words, Yeonho let out a lifeless sigh. All he’d wanted was to feel the warmth of the person he loved one last time before dying. Even that small wish wouldn’t come true.

He couldn’t say it wasn’t like that. He couldn’t even manage an apology. He just tickled Siwoo’s cheek with his fingers. Siwoo caught the wandering hand, kissed its nails, and stared into his eyes as he asked:

“Why don’t you tell me to stop? Even when you let me use you like this, does he still say he loves you? Even if he saw your body like this?”

Red heat bloomed on every part of Yeonho’s body Siwoo’s lips had touched. With tired eyes, Yeonho blinked and murmured:

“…You love me too, even if I’m this kind of person.”

Siwoo couldn’t deny that. Yeonho simply stayed still in his arms, blinking slowly. Every time Siwoo hated him, his body and mind wore down rapidly. Like a battery losing power, he would be completely drained. He just wanted to forget everything, fall asleep like this in Siwoo’s arms.

And that was how Yeonho unconsciously drifted off in Siwoo’s embrace. It was a short sleep, close to death. What woke him wasn’t Siwoo, but the loud ringtone of a phone.

As Yeonho slowly opened his eyes, Siwoo, who had been holding him close and gently patting his back, answered the call. The caller was Seong Junhee.

“I’m having sex with your brother. Hang up.”

In this relationship, Kim Siwoo played the villain. And he had no fear of performing that role. He hung up immediately and powered the phone off. Then he tossed it far away from Yeonho and came back to him, gently stroking his hair and cheek.

“Yeonho, even now, I don’t regret meeting you.”

He lowered his head and kissed Yeonho’s cheek, speaking calmly.

“Even if being with you is this painful, it’s still better than the days I didn’t know you.”

“…”

“Even when you only say cruel things, a day with you is still better than a day without you.”

Looking at Siwoo’s sad smile, Yeonho finally voiced the last piece of his truth.

“I… regret it.”

He should never have existed in this person’s life. Someone like him should never have existed at all.

“The biggest mistake of my life was… meeting you.”

“…”

“If I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have come here on your birthday last year. I wouldn’t have let us meet in the first place.”

Siwoo, who had held himself together all this time, crumbled at those words. It seemed like they hurt him more than anything else he’d ever heard. Yeonho wanted to kill himself right then for being the one to break Siwoo like this. Someone like him should disappear from Siwoo’s life as quickly as possible.

Tears fell from Siwoo’s eyes. And in that final moment, Yeonho was strangely grateful to witness this new side of him. After loving him for a year, it was the first time he had seen Siwoo cry.

He’d imagined it a few times, but it was more beautiful than he’d expected. Without taking his eyes off Siwoo’s face, he gently wiped away his tears one by one.

Siwoo’s hand slid up Yeonho’s arm and gripped the back of his neck. Gradually, pressure built in that hand. As Yeonho allowed it without resistance, he thought that if Siwoo added just a bit more strength, his breath might stop right then. Siwoo’s gaze held not only hatred but a raw murderous intent.

And yet, in the middle of being choked by someone who hated him, Yeonho felt more at peace than he had in a long time. If he could fall asleep forever in Siwoo’s hands, that would be happiness. If he could die in this person’s arms, what more could he want?

But he knew even that was a wish that couldn’t be fulfilled. There were still things he had to do. He couldn’t even choose his own death.

Still, he was satisfied that this was the last moment they’d share. Maybe now, Siwoo would never forget him. Yeonho gently wiped the tears streaming down Siwoo’s lovely cheeks. And with a red face from lack of breath, he struggled to speak.

“I’m sleepy… Will you help me sleep again…? And when I’m asleep, go.”

If Siwoo truly wanted to, he was welcome to put him to sleep forever.

Letting go, Siwoo kissed the faint bruise he’d left on Yeonho’s neck and lulled him back to sleep. Yeonho quickly drifted off, but Siwoo couldn’t bring himself to leave. Yeonho had fallen asleep with his fingers curled around Siwoo’s.

He eventually went back to the shared lodge and collapsed into sleep. When he woke, about two hours had passed. Siwoo got up and bought cigarettes from the shop. It had been a long time since he’d had one. The sensation of Yeonho’s throat under his hand still lingered on his fingers.

A childhood memory surfaced. It was from his third year of middle school. His father had naturally assumed Siwoo would become class president, but Siwoo, in the thick of puberty and rebellion, had refused out of spite. He hadn’t thought it was a crime worthy of being beaten to death.

He felt like if he didn’t fight back, he’d die. Even though he had no will to live, when he reached the brink of death, survival instincts kicked in. He felt like a bug sprayed with pesticide, flailing to live.

That day, Siwoo had wrapped his hands around his father’s neck to survive. He strangled the man who had tormented him all his life, slammed him into a wall, and caused a head injury. Siwoo had grown taller and stronger than his father, it wasn’t hard to overpower him.

This part, he had never told Yeonho. That summer break, Siwoo was locked away in a mental hospital. Even though he’d just retaliated after a lifetime of abuse, they said his violence was too extreme and forced medication on him.

His parents believed his violent tendencies had been cured. But that wasn’t true. Siwoo had never had a condition requiring medication. He just had instincts to survive.

To Kim Siwoo, Joo Yeonho was life. Whether Yeonho existed or not directly affected whether Siwoo survived. That meant, if something threatened their relationship, Siwoo might act on instinct to protect himself.

That was why he hesitated to date Yeonho in the first place. Because he feared that loving him might one day drive him to hurt someone.

Now, through the cigarette smoke, he saw Joo Yeonho and Seong Junhee. Without realizing, he began following them from a distance. Wearing rental ski gear and holding their boards, they were heading for the lift. Were they really going to snowboard at this hour? The resort would close in about an hour.

Yeonho was smiling brightly. They looked closer than he’d expected. Siwoo felt the world spin. His rational mind snapped, and his vision blurred.

…All I need is for that bastard to disappear.

He had no other options left. Getting beaten by his father, hurting himself, begging Yeonho to come back. It was all useless. That left only one option. For Seong Junhee to disappear from the world.

If Seong Junhee didn’t disappear, then Kim Siwoo would die. It was either him or me. If Junhee was gone, Yeonho would come back. He’d once said Siwoo was the prettiest toy of all. Without Junhee, Yeonho would naturally choose him again.

Of course, this was still just an impulse. Every time Siwoo’s survival had been threatened, he’d felt the urge to kill. And every time, he’d managed to hold back with reason.

Would he be able to hold back this time? Or would he finally act?