It wasn’t that he disliked their past—immature and burning with passion. He had simply grown older during Myung-hwon’s absence and reached an age where he understood that something constantly burning eventually leaves nothing but ashes.

‘And if I say I like him better because he’s not perfect… would Myung-hwon dislike that?’

Ju-eon covered his mouth with his fist, lost in thought for a moment. But soon he bowed his head deeply, feeling they had taken too long to reach this point because of him.

Without discussing these things, they would quickly return to their previous state, but this conversation needed to happen.

“Myung-hwon. I don’t want us to be like we were before.”

His voice trembled faintly. Not because he disliked their past. Myung-hwon grabbed Ju-eon’s wrist, turning him around so they faced each other. Their eyes met.

“Mmph.”

His waist was pulled with strong force, bringing them close enough to feel each other’s breath.

“Do you dislike me now?”

That small voice pierced Ju-eon’s heart. The seemingly impenetrable Yeo Myung-hwon from the screen had vanished, replaced by a Myung-hwon who wavered at his words.

“That’s not it…”

He wanted their time apart to be meaningful. The separation felt too precious to waste.

But before Ju-eon could explain, Myung-hwon wrapped his hand around Ju-eon’s and pressed it against his own cheek. Ju-eon felt the roughened skin against his palm.

“I’ll give you all the time you need to think.”

“What?”

“But do that thinking in front of me. I’ll give you all the time you need.”

His voice, dark and low, was moist with emotion. The people previously visible in the distance had disappeared, giving the impression that the two of them were alone in an unfamiliar place.

“What makes you think you know what choice I’ll make when you say that?”

Ju-eon, who had been nestled against him, lifted his head slightly to look up at Myung-hwon. He couldn’t explain that wasn’t what he meant, but Myung-hwon’s unexpectedly cool response prompted him to ask.

“And… if your choice is not to choose me, tell me.”

He couldn’t bear living with Ju-eon by his side yet knowing Ju-eon didn’t want him in his life. The sense of loss after losing Ju-eon once was something he couldn’t endure again.

If Ju-eon were to abandon him, not even a glimmer of hope would remain.

An extreme thought flashed through Myung-hwon’s mind.

Ju-eon’s eyes trembled at Myung-hwon’s matter-of-fact voice. That calmness revealed how differently they had experienced their time apart. Ju-eon had the luxury to contemplate their future, but Myung-hwon didn’t even have that.

On this trip, he had vaguely assumed everything would work out between them. He thought all that remained was for them to become stronger than before. He couldn’t begin to fathom the depth of pain from being left behind and forgotten. This was clearly Ju-eon’s mistake.

Once again… he had acted selfishly under the pretense of doing what was best for him, for them. His lungs felt constricted with self-loathing.

“How could I possibly not choose you?”

At Ju-eon’s words, Myung-hwon pulled him close like a child seeking comfort, pressing their bodies together. Ju-eon patted Myung-hwon’s back.

Poor Ju-eon, who hadn’t noticed what Myung-hwon was thinking, busied himself worrying about him.

“Haven’t you slept at all?”

And Myung-hwon really liked that about Ju-eon.

When Ju-eon traced his finger over the dark circles under Myung-hwon’s eyes, Myung-hwon placed his hand over Ju-eon’s and pressed down. Then he gently closed his eyes, seemingly agreeing to all of Ju-eon’s actions. With a peaceful expression, showing no trace of his earlier dark thoughts, he whispered affectionately.

“I came straight here after finishing work.”

“You should have rested a bit.”

Myung-hwon smiled bitterly at Ju-eon’s concerned voice.

“Working is better because resting gives me time to think, which only brings pain.”

“You’ll hurt your body that way.”

Ju-eon was probably the only one worried about the health of an S-class esper like Myung-hwon. His body had refused to die even when he had wanted to fade away slowly.

Instead of answering, Myung-hwon said something else.

“I’ll do better.”

At Myung-hwon’s pleading tone, Ju-eon gently pushed against his chest. He still looked impressive, like on TV, but appeared slightly thinner than Ju-eon remembered. Myung-hwon furrowed his brow at the subtle distance between them.

“It’s not that I dislike you because you’re lacking.”

“Then?”

“I just don’t want to go back to how we were before because it seems like the natural thing to do.”

“……”

Our time was still frozen in those young days. If our relationship had been flawless without any gaps, I wouldn’t have had these worries.

“Myung-hwon. Do you know how I felt when I heard what you did just for my belongings?”

He wanted to speak calmly, but the topic could only evoke strong emotions.

“I never intended for you to find out.”

Myung-hwon’s face showed embarrassment, not having expected Ju-eon to know about this. The tip of Ju-eon’s nose turned red.

“You shouldn’t have done that because of me. When I came back… how was I supposed to face you after what you did?”

They were just belongings. Unimportant things. Had he known the clinical trials would take so long, he would have thrown away most of them.

Myung-hwon roughly ran his hand through his hair.

“I did it because the house without you was suffocating. I didn’t do it to see this look on your face.”

What was “just stuff” to some was everything to Myung-hwon who had been alone, and that was unbearably difficult to accept. The sense of everyday life Ju-eon had felt when he first reunited with Myung-hwon, back when his memories hadn’t returned, had all been his own. Myung-hwon was still frozen in time when Ju-eon had disappeared.

“Don’t do that. Myung-hwon. Okay? What am I that you would go to such lengths?”

“I didn’t know. I thought it was natural for you to be by my side, I thought it was a given.”

“……”

“But it wasn’t. You were my everything. When you disappeared like that, I couldn’t do anything. Ju-eon. I know I seem pathetic and pitiful. But.”

Myung-hwon muttered, rubbing his gaunt face. Seeing him looking so anxious, almost neurotic, Ju-eon could only embrace Myung-hwon’s back with all his strength. Myung-hwon’s body stiffened. His heart was beating fast and strong.

“I won’t do it again.”

It would have been nice if they had been perfect from the start, but no relationship is perfect from the beginning. They needed to clash and wear down their mismatched parts to fit together.

Too young, too ignorant, back then he thought that considering only himself was true love. We hurt each other by doing things neither of us wanted under the pretense of caring for each other, while only pitying each other.

“Okay.”

We can’t keep excusing each other’s actions because of immaturity. There will always be an expiration date. Before that, we need to widen those gaps.

“We’re thirty now. We have too many days ahead of us to just charge forward trusting only our emotions.”

A precarious and burning relationship would eventually wear out.

“I… didn’t know you were worried about such things.”

“I thought you would understand without me saying it, but that wasn’t the case… As it built up, I got scared. I just don’t want to be like that anymore. I just wanted to say this.”

“Okay.”

“When I said I wanted time, it’s because when I’m with you, I can only think about you.”

Myung-hwon nodded. Only then did relief gradually begin to rise. Each time he confirmed it wasn’t a declaration of leaving, Myung-hwon felt his inner anger subsiding.

The entire drive to find Ju-eon, he could only think of all the things he hadn’t done for him. He believed that Ju-eon telling Gu-young his travel location meant he didn’t mind if Myung-hwon knew, so he set out to find him.

What if he leaves?

A normal person wouldn’t want to put themselves in danger, and Ju-eon would have realized what peaceful life was like without him. The dangers he had faced because of Myung-hwon alone were reason enough to leave.

If he had left…Myung-hwon swallowed the afterthought. He didn’t want to think about what he might have done, even to himself. It would have been something cruel and self-destructive.

“Please… don’t leave again. I’m asking you.”

When he kept his distance under the pretense of doing what was best for Ju-eon, only to realize that was when Ju-eon needed him most. He never wanted to feel that ground-sinking feeling again. Myung-hwon had already learned this lesson painfully.

There was a time when he had grown accustomed to keeping his distance, feeling that distance was natural. It was his most fatal mistake, his arrogance. Myung-hwon bit the inside of his mouth hard.

A cold wind swept between them. A tear rolled down Ju-eon’s cheek. Relief spread through him now. Even if their emotions moved at different speeds, they were heading in the same direction.

Seeing Myung-hwon’s vulnerability, shown only to him, made Ju-eon feel like they had finally regained the relationship they had lost. Feeling it tangibly,

“Okay.”

At Ju-eon’s answer, Myung-hwon closed his eyes gently. Even if Ju-eon had said he was leaving, Myung-hwon had no intention of letting him go. He would have had nothing to say if people called him selfish.

A hot, moist tongue touched Ju-eon’s eye and pulled away.

“Hey!”

Ju-eon knew that the surrounding situation wasn’t completely resolved yet. But he didn’t want to suppress this feeling.

Forcing down the corners of his mouth that wanted to rise, Ju-eon added one last thing.

“Don’t go doing unnecessary things for my sake behind my back. That’s not what I want.”

“Why are you saying what I should be saying?”

“I won’t do it either.”

Myung-hwon whispered to Ju-eon like he was making a confession.

“So don’t ask for time apart again.”

“…Okay.”

“Just tell me that at the end of your time, you’ll always be with me.”