Chapter 53

🜼 🜼 🜼

Drinking the whiskey had been a tactical error. He knew the alcohol would only inflame his wound, yet he had yielded to the impulse regardless.

Throughout the night, heat had throbbed around the injury before finally ebbing in the morning light. Despite the sweltering height of summer, Yuri had shivered with deep, bone-rattling cold. He missed the warmth that had filled the space beside him for the past three days, and with a heavy heart, he finally opened his eyes.

The room was spartan, containing nothing but a single, austere table. Yuri realized with a jolt that he had not awakened in Cherriot’s room, but in the guest suite.

I wonder when Cherriot finally went to sleep.

Perhaps he had been overjoyed to see his cousin after so long, because the two of them had remained outside for quite some time. Dolly had warned Yuri that he looked terrible and would be better off lying down. She was right. Yuri had not wanted to wait for Cherriot only to make him worry, so he had begun preparing for bed. Then, remembering the house was full of guests, he had offered Dolly the guest room.

She looked over the bandages wrapped around Yuri’s waist, told him to stop talking nonsense and get some sleep, then practically drove him out of the living room. Though Dolly had dismissed him firmly, she seemed to have treated him with a certain warmth. She had even shoved a two-liter bottle of water into his hands, declaring that injured men needed to stay hydrated.

In any case, Yuri was pushed into the guest room as though being placed in isolation and promptly lost consciousness beneath the crushing weight of his exhaustion. His condition was the worst it had been in nearly three years.

The inflammation sparked a fever, and perhaps because he had never taken the neutralizer, severe abdominal pain struck as well. He spent the night trembling through chills and agony until morning finally arrived.

Opening his eyes in a bed soaked with cold sweat, Yuri stared blankly into space before slowly lowering his feet to the floor. He desperately wanted to wash. He had sweated so much that the discomfort made resting impossible.

Fortunately, only the hours before dawn had been truly miserable. By morning, both the fever and the abdominal pain had eased to some extent. Sometimes his body seemed irreparably broken, yet at moments like this, it still managed to function.

With that grim realization, Yuri opened the bedroom door. The sight immediately outside made him flinch.

“…Cherriot?”

Cherriot had dragged a single armchair in front of Yuri’s door and fallen asleep curled inside it. The scene was bewildering, yet the thought that Cherriot had waited there until he fell asleep made his heart tighten with an unbearable tenderness.

At Yuri’s low call, Cherriot rubbed his eyes and woke. He released a small yawn, noticed Yuri standing in the doorway, and shot to his feet.

“Wolfie!”

Ah. The instant Yuri heard the nickname, he forgot the pain that had tormented him throughout the night. His dark brows, usually drawn in a straight line, curved softly. The blue eyes beneath them narrowed with warmth as he answered Cherriot.

“Yeah.”

“Did you sleep well? How’s the wound? You were already asleep when I came in last night, so I couldn’t wake you. Did you take the neutralizer? Did you eat dinner?”

The questions poured from Cherriot the moment Yuri answered. Looking up at the man, whose green eyes sparkled without leaving him for even a second, Yuri suddenly felt a sharp sting behind his own.

He had missed him too much. What is this? What was so special about questions anyone could have asked that I had longed to hear them this badly?

They had gone only one day without speaking properly, yet Yuri felt as though they had been separated for years. He knew it was an absurd exaggeration. Some irrational judgment had clearly interfered, making him feel far too close to a man he had known for only a week.

After listening to Dolly, Yuri had attempted to recover his reason. Before falling asleep the previous night, he had organized his thoughts. The problem was probably that it had been so long since he had shared his body with anyone.

Perhaps the mistake had begun with the first kiss. People said trouble followed when one behaved unlike oneself. Yuri Kiselyov would never ordinarily have done the things he had willingly done for Cherriot. Perhaps those choices had merely created the illusion that they had become closer than they truly were.

He had forced himself to repeat that logic until morning. And yet…

“Yuri?”

Cherriot tilted his head and looked at him like an oversized puppy. Yuri’s throat tightened again. Perhaps he had not drunk enough water the day before; his throat felt painfully dry.

“Why were you sleeping there?”

After finally clearing his throat, Yuri narrowed his eyes and asked. The armchair looked far too small to contain Cherriot, and imagining him folded awkwardly inside it made Yuri uncomfortable.

“I just… wanted you to be the first person I saw when you woke up.”

Perhaps because he had slept with his head against the chair, the hair at the back of Cherriot’s head stuck straight up. He pressed it down several times with his palm, wearing an embarrassed expression as he answered. When Yuri said nothing, Cherriot moved closer and continued explaining.

“I waited for you for so long yesterday, but once you finally got back, we couldn’t do anything together. I made pasta for us, and I even picked out footage of one of my incredible games so we could drink beer and watch it.”

It sounded genuinely wonderful. Anything done with Cherriot would probably be enjoyable, even if they merely sat together. Cherriot would spend the entire time saying adorable, lovable things without pause. His heart was filled with love, giving him the astonishing ability to choose beautiful words.

Yuri’s heart, by contrast, contained nothing at all. That was why there was room inside it to keep every word Cherriot gave him without losing a single one.

Truly, Cherriot. You are more lovable than anyone. The fact that you can smile like this after everything you endured, that you can still say things meant to make another person happy—that must be what makes you more beautiful than anyone else. At least in my world.

“Yuri, why aren’t you saying anything?”

When Yuri fell silent again, Cherriot stopped talking and studied him. Yuri stared endlessly into the green eyes filled with concern and considered over and over what he should do. There was no need to push Cherriot away completely. Dolly had not demanded that much.

No matter how agonizing the regret felt, they could say goodbye today, each deal with what had to be done, and meet again someday. They both lived in Vancouver, just as Cherriot had said. Perhaps, when Cherriot was not busy, Yuri could ask whether they might read together.

Am I allowed to do that? Are we close enough for even that?

“Yesterday…”

The moment Yuri began speaking, Cherriot smiled brightly. It was the smile Yuri had struggled so hard to see the previous day, yet today it bloomed without Yuri doing anything at all. As Dolly had said, perhaps half of Cherriot’s smiles had become habit.

Yuri had suspected as much. From the moment they first met, Cherriot had smiled at everyone. The belief that he smiled especially beautifully for Yuri had probably been a delusion born from not knowing him well enough.

“You said I could visit your house sometimes. Or you could come to mine.”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

Pleased that Yuri remembered, Cherriot’s eyes curved into an easy smile. “Am I really allowed to?”

“Of course.”

“Even though I’m no longer your bodyguard?”

At Yuri’s question, Cherriot narrowed his eyes in brief confusion. Then understanding came, and his lips parted slightly. “That’s true. Benji and Dolly are here now…”

Cherriot lowered his head awkwardly. Following his gaze, Yuri noticed that his big toenail had turned red, as though it were close to falling off. Cherriot was looking at it, too. “Our contract is over.”

Murmuring the words, Cherriot slowly bent at the waist and reached toward Yuri’s foot. Yuri drew it back, disliking the thought of Cherriot touching something dirty. Cherriot watched the retreating foot, then slowly straightened and muttered to himself. “Until yesterday morning, all your toenails were pretty.”

At the quiet remark, the past three days flashed through Yuri’s mind. The feeling was unbearable. His breath caught, his chest ached, and a desperate desire not to be separated from Cherriot surged upward. For a moment, it felt as though his vision went dark.

Yuri finally asked the question he should never have spoken aloud. “Then what am I, when I bring the book and come looking for you?”

Cherriot’s gaze slowly rose from Yuri’s foot to his face. As though hearing an unexpected question, he blinked his green eyes and stared. “And what do you want to be when you come looking for me after this is over?”

The question Yuri had hidden inside himself, the one he should have buried forever, had taken form. But Yuri wanted desperately to find some proof through it. Proof that he and Cherriot would not end as two people who had merely passed through one another’s lives.

He had once heard that a midsummer night became cruelest and most intoxicating just before one returned to reality. Perhaps that was why the thought of leaving Cherriot and returning to Vancouver, to the same empty routine, filled Yuri with such profound despair. Nor could he be certain that Cherriot would remain safe beyond Yuri’s sight and eventually return to Vancouver. These people had protected Cherriot for years. Yuri told himself they would naturally guard him well.

Even so… Could they protect him as Yuri would? Driven by every doubt and every desperate need for reassurance, Yuri made a mistake. The instant the words left him, he understood how foolish the choice had been.

Cherriot said nothing. Instead, the beautiful face that had moments ago been overflowing with things to say gradually darkened. Discomfort crossed his green eyes, and his pink lips pressed tightly together in confusion.

I see. It really was a question I should never have asked.

Yuri’s heart grew heavy, as though submerged in mud. The instant he followed a foolish impulse and reached for something he had no right to touch, the brilliant landscape disappeared like a mirage. Had Yuri pretended not to notice, they might have continued behaving like lovers for a little longer. By asking what their relationship was, he had forced Cherriot to define it.

“I… really like you, Yuri. But as you know now…

because of the trust, I’ve never seriously dated anyone. Like I told you, it’s incredibly important to me. It’s one of the last things my father left behind, and…”

Cherriot’s complexion turned pale, as though he had no idea how to continue. Watching him suffer, lost for words, Yuri’s heart sank deeper and deeper. Cherriot had told him his appearance was love at first sight. He had whispered that Yuri was special. He had asked whether Yuri behaved this way with other people too.

Listening to those sweet words, Yuri had allowed himself a ridiculous delusion. Even while shouting inwardly that it could not be true, he had ultimately begun to believe that perhaps this man held him dear. Of course this was the answer. How could Yuri ask a man who had sought him out to preserve his trust a question equivalent to asking him to abandon it?

Yuri himself was precisely the kind of existence that would cause public controversy and disgrace the family name. The realization that a mere criminal had dared covet Cherriot raked sharply through his mind. He remembered Benji’s horrified face as he shouted that Cherriot should not cry over someone like Yuri. Dolly’s kind but unmistakably distancing voice echoed behind it.

Idiot. You should have known better than to want something beyond your place.

Yuri felt maddened by his own greed. Why had he said something so pathetic? Especially now. At a time when he should have placed Cherriot first, Yuri had lost his head and forced him into an impossible position.

Cherriot already had enough fear and danger ahead of him. Yuri had returned wounded, triggered his trauma, and now burdened him further with selfish expectations. “That isn’t what I meant.”

Realizing his mistake, Yuri forced apart his dry, clinging lips. The lightness he had felt upon seeing Cherriot vanished at once. His body grew heavy, and cold sweat gathered across his back. A wave of dizziness struck, perhaps the aftermath of the night’s fever, but he concealed it and continued.

He found a reasonably convincing excuse so that Cherriot would not feel more cornered or distressed. “I was asking whether we could at least be considered friends.”

His face revealed none of his pain. Only his voice remained gentle, a softness permitted to Cherriot alone. “We would have to be at least that much, or everyone at my house would be surprised if you visited. The same would be true in reverse.”

If Yuri had known this would happen, he should at least have held Cherriot’s hand once. He should have felt the warmth he had missed throughout the night one final time. When Cherriot asked whether he had eaten, Yuri should have answered no and sat beside him to share the pasta he had made.

Even if they could not drink the beer, they could have watched the footage of Cherriot’s incredible game while eating breakfast. Yuri could have watched him fly freely across the ice and told him he was truly handsome. That no one in the world was as beautiful.

Words filled with selfish affection, yet natural enough not to seem strange. Yuri crushed the storm of regret beneath his feet and smiled calmly. It was the quiet expression he might have shown Alexei or T-Mac.

Cherriot had remained silent under the weight of guilt. Only after Yuri smiled that way did his expression relax. Still watching Yuri with apologetic eyes, Cherriot returned his usual smile.

“Of course, Yuri.”

His eyes curved much as they had when they first met. There was nothing visibly unnatural in the expression. As Dolly had said, perhaps Cherriot’s smile had become so habitual that it showed no flaws. And yet Yuri could not see it the way he had seen Cherriot’s smile bloom like a peony the previous morning.

It was the same smile, but somehow different. Yesterday, Cherriot had seemed to smile with his entire heart. Does it only look different because I’ve decided to see him as a friend?

Yuri did not think so. He had said the words and intended to live as Cherriot’s friend from now on, but looking at him still made Yuri want to kiss him immediately. He remembered the way their tongues had tangled wetly and endlessly only days ago, and wanted to pull Cherriot into a fierce embrace.

No.

He could not see Cherriot as merely a friend. Yuri had never wanted to kiss or join his body with any of his other friends the way he had during the past three days. He had never felt this way even toward Alexei, whom he may have valued more than his own father.

There had been a time when Yuri intended to overcome Alexei’s tragic circumstances beside him. He had remained constantly at Alexei’s side, trying to make him smile and helping him find happiness. But it had never felt like this. Alexei was still precious to him.

Yet after meeting Cherriot, Yuri finally understood that he had never regarded Alexei with the kind of love people spoke of between lovers. Alexei had been the reason Yuri endured. He had not been the one who created in Yuri a desire to continue living. Perhaps Yuri had been exactly the same to Alexei. Only today did Yuri completely understand Alexei, who could never smile sincerely for anyone but Valeri.

Cherriot’s claim that seven seconds were enough to fall in love had not been wrong. Neither had Yuri’s mother been wrong when she said she had loved his father at first sight. Yuri had been caught from the day Cherriot seized his wrist. Inside the green eyes looking at him, Yuri had seen a fragment of the paradise he had dreamed of all his life. Every day spent with Cherriot had taught him that he had always longed for such a place.

Yuri did not know the exact moment he had fallen in love. But he knew why. Because Cherriot had looked at Yuri—at the man no one had ever respected, the man covered in scars, the man stained with unforgivable sin—and said he was beautiful exactly as he was. A single moment was enough to love someone like that. Everything Yuri had longed for throughout his entire life had existed inside the moment Cherriot gave him.

“Then, Cherriot, if you’re ever in danger, call me without hesitation. Friends are there to watch each other’s backs.”

Cherriot had given Yuri what he had spent his life yearning for without even understanding it. Yuri would be satisfied with that. If Cherriot could accept him as Yuri Kiselyov rather than Yuri Campbell, that alone would give Yuri enough strength to live the rest of his life.

At Yuri’s words, Cherriot slanted his reddish-brown brows and smiled. His expression troubled, he glanced toward Yuri’s waist beneath his clothing and whispered, “But Yuri, I don’t want you to be hurt anymore.”

The gentle baritone caused Yuri a brief, violent pain. He had only just resolved that this was enough. Yet one sentence brought back the agonizing wish that Cherriot belonged to him. Suppressing the desire was hundreds of times harder than enduring the chills that had tormented him throughout the night.

“It’s all right, Cherriot. My life is more stubborn than it looks. It takes more than most things to seriously hurt me.”

It might have been better if he had died long ago. Instead, Yuri had survived one fatal crisis after another. “So when you’re truly in danger, find me.”

While Cherriot moved his lips, searching for an answer, the kitchen door opened. Benji must have risen as soon as the sun came up. He emerged with hair as disheveled as Cherriot’s and frowned deeply when he saw them standing face-to-face.

“What are you doing there with that man, Cherry?”

“Morning, Benji.”

Cherriot turned and greeted him. As his head shifted slightly, Yuri saw a mark below his ear, along the smooth line of his neck, like an insect bite. Within those dreamlike hours, Yuri vaguely remembered biting him there.

It no longer mattered. The mark would fade within days. Just as Cherriot would inevitably forget their summer before long.

When Cherriot turned back, Yuri was no longer standing before the bedroom door. The sound of the bathroom door closing drew Cherriot’s gaze. He remained still for a moment, listening as water began running inside. In Cherriot’s hand was the neutralizer he had asked Dolly to buy at the airport, carried there just in case.

🜼 🜼 🜼