Chapter 25

Yi-seon began visiting Mugyeol’s house surprisingly often. At first the visits had been tied to family gatherings, but once the boys grew close again, Chairman Yeon invited Yi-seon so freely that he started going over even without the rest of his family.

One quiet day, with snow piled thickly across the garden, the two boys studied on the L-shaped sofa in Mugyeol’s room.

“Move your head that way. I can’t breathe.”

“I’m comfortable.”

Yi-seon took hold of Mugyeol’s head, which was using his stomach as a pillow, and shoved it aside. Shifting languidly, Mugyeol lay across the corner of the L-shaped couch and patted his own abs. “Then you use mine.”

“My friend. Does someone always have to use someone else’s stomach as a pillow?”

“Then put something on it.”

Mugyeol’s large hand suddenly grabbed Yi-seon’s pale ankle and yanked him forward. Dragged along by that brute strength, Yi-seon ended up with both legs planted squarely on top of Mugyeol’s abdominal muscles. Mugyeol lifted one of Yi-seon’s ankles high and examined it with curious fascination. “By the way, why are your toes so white?”

As his foot was hoisted into the air, the loose hem of his trousers slid down, baring a pale ankle and the neat, delicate protrusion of his ankle bone. The skin revealed up toward his calf looked as immaculate and soft as porcelain.

“I’m on the fairer side to begin with… Wouldn’t it be weirder if only my feet were dark?”

“I guess. Your toenails are pink.”

“Isn’t that just because the circulation’s cut off right now? Let go of my foot.”

Uncomfortable with one leg propped straight up in the air, Yi-seon wriggled his toes and squirmed. Yet the ankle clamped in Mugyeol’s grasp wouldn’t budge an inch, which felt rather humiliating.

What kind of strength does this guy have…?

Just as Yi-seon was about to complain about him flexing his muscles out of nowhere, his thighs twitched and his toes curled tight. The fingers wrapped around his ankle had begun to caress his skin softly.

“Hey… what are you doing…?”

Mugyeol cupped the tender skin with his palm before dragging his thumb slowly over the ankle bone. As Mugyeol’s scorching hand persistently stroked the dry, sleek skin, goosebumps prickled along Yi-seon’s spine, and he nearly let out an audible moan.

Ugh… Unable to endure the strange sensation creeping over him any longer, Yi-seon kicked Mugyeol squarely in the chest.

“Why are you touching someone else’s foot! Gross.”

Only then did Mugyeol release his ankle, muttering under his breath as if to himself, “Why the hell is a guy’s skin this soft?”

“I was born with it.”

“…Is it like this everywhere else too?”

“I don’t know.”

Yi-seon pulled on the socks he had taken off and sat cross-legged, tucking his feet out of sight. Just because his friend touched his foot once, he had nearly gotten hard. Feeling miserable that he was the only one experiencing such sensations, he huffed in frustration and tried to focus on his online math lecture, but the words failed to register, forcing him to replay the exact same section three times.

Meanwhile, Mugyeol returned from the bathroom, sprawled out comfortably, and picked up a booklet of mock exam solutions.

Pretending to look at the falling snow outside the window, Yi-seon stole a glance at Mugyeol. All traces of his earlier demeanor were gone, replaced by the clean, composed profile of the student council president quietly studying.

Truthfully, physical contact with Mugyeol had been second nature since childhood. Back in elementary school, Mugyeol had clung to him constantly, practically living attached to his hip. But he never imagined it would continue even after they had grown into teenagers.

When they were younger, it had at least been cute; nowadays, he felt a bit like a pervert at times…

There were moments when Yi-seon had wanted to ask:

Do you do this to other people too?

Of course, Mugyeol was the type to offer his hands or body to others without a second thought, but because he never seemed to initiate touching or lay hands on someone else first, Yi-seon felt a persistent curiosity. Even so, he swallowed down the budding question. He didn’t want to give the impression that he was overthinking every casual touch between friends.

As they studied in silence for quite some time, knock, knock, knock—someone tapped on the bedroom door. When Mugyeol answered with a “Yes,” the housekeeper spoke from the hallway.

“Young Master Mugyeol, guests have arrived.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Beside Mugyeol, who was tidying his books and standing up, Yi-seon rose awkwardly to his feet.

Guests? What guests? Do I have to go home now? I want to hang out more with Mugyeol.

“Who’s here?”

“Didn’t I tell you? Grandfather was expecting guests today.”

“Chairman Yeon’s guests?”

“Yeah. You come along too. Grandfather told me to bring you.”

Looking bewildered, Yi-seon followed Mugyeol out. Passing through the garden and stepping into the indoor conservatory, they found a cheerful family conversing with Mugyeol’s grandfather. At the appearance of the two students, a genial-looking man rose from his seat.

“You must be Mugyeol. What a strapping, handsome young man!”

“Hello, I’m Yeon Mugyeol.”

Mugyeol greeted him with effortless ease, taking the man’s extended hand. It was a display of polished sociability befitting a former student council president. Having exchanged greetings with Mugyeol, the middle-aged man scanned Yi-seon next. Behind him, noticing his curiosity regarding the unfamiliar student, Mugyeol’s grandfather resolved the question on his behalf.

“That pretty lad is Mugyeol’s friend. He’s the same age as Mugyeol and President Jeong’s daughter.”

“Is that so?”

Taking the cue, Yi-seon bowed politely first. “Hello, I’m Ryu Yi-seon,” he introduced himself, and the middle-aged man patted his shoulder warmly, saying it was a pleasure to meet him.

Since it was not yet dinnertime, they sat before the tea Chairman Yeon favored and began chatting.

“Yes, that’s right. I did ballet until middle school. I took a break to focus on my studies, but I’m thinking of picking it back up as a hobby once I get into college.”

Yi-seon stared blankly at the girl who was speaking with a bright, bubbly smile.

Her name was Jeong Soram, if he remembered correctly. She was the daughter of the middle-aged man they had just met. Jeong Soram, whose cute cheeks rounded out when she smiled, kept stealing glances at Mugyeol throughout the conversation. Sitting opposite Jeong Soram and Mugyeol, Yi-seon could clearly see her flushed, expectant gaze.

Only then did Yi-seon realize.

Ah…

This is that “sometimes” Mugyeol was talking about.

“They don’t introduce them openly, but sometimes when there’s a gathering, they stick kids together so we can get close.”

That exact “sometimes” he had mentioned back then.

Though he had no idea how he had ended up roped into such a gathering himself, Yi-seon curled his cold fingertips into his palms and remained seated, pretending nothing was amiss. Sweat kept gathering against his palms. Sitting front and center to watch a blind date—or something very much like one—for the boy he liked was not an experience just anyone could endure.

“I’m not just saying this because she’s my daughter, Chairman, but our Soram has real grit. Even though she loved dance so much, the moment she decided it wasn’t the path, she cut it clean and pursued her own way, didn’t she? Mugyeol-ah. Did they say you’re ranked first in your entire school? Soram is in the top ten as well.”

“You’re rank one in the whole school? Really?” Jeong Soram asked, her eyes going wide and round.

Before Mugyeol could even answer, Chairman Yeon let out a boisterous laugh and beat him to it. “Of course! Mugyeol is the treasure of our household! Ranked first in school, student council president—that boy has both brains and leadership in spades!”

Mugyeol accepted his grandfather’s praise smoothly, slinging an arm around Yi-seon’s shoulders.

“He’s number two.”

“Yeah, I’m number two. But I’m always aiming for the top spot.”

From under Mugyeol’s arm, Yi-seon flashed a V-sign with his fingers to signal second place. He shot a brief glare at Mugyeol, who tossed out a lame joke about how he was rank two because his name was I-seon—with the i meaning two—but when Jeong Soram burst into overly loud laughter at the terrible pun, Yi-seon scratched the back of his neck in awkward embarrassment.

Do girls actually like ridiculous jokes like that…?

As the conversation flowed naturally between Yi-seon, Mugyeol, and Jeong Soram, the adults tactfully excused themselves, suggesting they let the youngsters hang out on their own. Thus, only the three high schoolers remained in the indoor garden.

“Do you usually study at home like this?”

“Either that, or I go to a study cafe with him.”

“You two must be really close.”

“We’ve been friends since we were little.”

Mugyeol’s manner with the girl was entirely natural. There was not a shred of awkwardness, revealing a smooth competence that suggested he had faced such settings countless times before. Beside him, Yi-seon chimed in with supportive nods, adding an occasional “Yeah” or “That’s right.”

The atmosphere was pleasant, and they even shared dinner together amid laughs and chatter. After the middle-aged man’s family departed, Yi-seon went up to Mugyeol’s room on the second floor and quietly packed his bag. Dropping Yi-seon’s pencil case into the bag, Mugyeol remarked offhandedly, “Jeong Soram looked at you more than she looked at me.”

“Must be because I’m better looking than you.”

Though he gave that flippant reply, Yi-seon already knew the truth.

Jeong Soram was too shy to look at you, so she looked at me instead.

He wondered how someone usually so quick on the uptake could miss something like that. Having spent plenty of time staring intently at Su-ah whenever she was with Mugyeol out of fear of exposing his own feelings, Yi-seon understood the psychology all too well.

They would soon be high school seniors. Once the CSAT was over, they would become college students, and like dominant alphas often did, Mugyeol might get married soon after. Alphas in general—and dominant or extreme dominant alphas in particular—tended to marry early, so Mugyeol’s grandfather’s matchmaking wasn’t entirely overzealous.

“By the way, why was I even there with you guys? Wasn’t I in the way?”

“Dunno. He suddenly insisted on calling you down too. Grandfather will give you some fat allowance money in a bit, so cut me some slack.”

“Hm… Be sure to call me next time too, then.”

Yi-seon offered an easy joke while touching his cold forehead. He hoped his facial expression was properly controlled. Acting completely unfazed was exhausting.

Following closely behind Yi-seon as he swung his bag onto his shoulder, Mugyeol thrust the crown of his head forward.

“Grandfather is getting way too serious lately. He yanked a bunch of hairs from my head for compatibility testing, and I thought I was gonna go bald. I have no idea how many people he’s cross-referencing me with. Look, I didn’t get hair loss, did I?”

They said his compatibility with Jeong Soram came out to 81%, so his grandfather had high hopes.

How did you find Jeong Soram? Yi-seon wanted to ask, but he swallowed the question down and stroked Mugyeol’s hair instead. Far from balding, his hair was dense, lush, and silkily coiled around Yi-seon’s fingers.

“Still, you looked surprisingly respectable today, Yeon Mugyeol. All mannered and everything. Whenever you’re with me, you’re either raising hell or acting like you’ve got a screw loose.”

“That’s because it’s you. You think I act like that in front of strangers?”

Hearing Mugyeol distinguish between “you” and “strangers” made Yi-seon’s heart soften into mush.

Bickering back and forth, Yi-seon and Mugyeol headed down to the first floor. Mugyeol’s grandfather, who had been examining a golf club in the drawing room, walked over with a pleased smile. “Yi-seon, it must have been uncomfortable for you today, wasn’t it? You worked hard by Mugyeol’s side.”

“Not at all. Thank you for the delicious dinner, Grandfather.”

“I don’t know if Mugyeol here suddenly got shy or what, but lately he hasn’t said a word whenever he’s around girls his age. Watching that pathetic display was driving me mad. Still, because Yi-seon was here today, Mugyeol actually spoke and laughed. It was good.”

In high spirits, Mugyeol’s grandfather pressed a thick stack of banknotes firmly into Yi-seon’s hand. At a glance, it looked to be several hundred thousand won. Having anticipated fifty or a hundred thousand won at most, Yi-seon recoiled in shock. But the moment he attempted to decline, Mugyeol, standing beside him, shoved the cash straight into Yi-seon’s pocket, leaving him with a hefty allowance whether he liked it or not.

“I’ll be taking my leave now, Grandfather.”

“Get home safely. Come visit often.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bowing politely, Yi-seon stepped outside the house alongside Mugyeol. Across the garden, white snowflakes fluttered lazily on the wind.

“You got a fat allowance, so buy me hamburgers, yeah?”

“Sure. Eat three of them.”

Yi-seon gripped the handlebars of the bicycle parked inside the main gate.

“I’m off.”

“Want me to walk you?”

“I rode my bike here, so you’d have to sprint beside me to walk me home.”

“Should I run a bit? My lower body is pretty sturdy, after all.”

Chuckling at Mugyeol’s banter, Yi-seon waved his hand dismissively.

After parting ways with Mugyeol, Yi-seon rode his bicycle through the desolate streets. A myriad of thoughts flitted through his mind, and countless emotions battered his heart. Then, picturing himself sitting beside Mugyeol in the indoor conservatory in place of that girl named Jeong Soram, he clamped down hard on the brakes and skidded to a halt.

“I’ve really lost my mind.”

Drawing a ragged breath, Yi-seon’s chest rose and fell in slow, measured intervals.

The streetlights that had switched on for the night blurred into a hazy glow behind the falling snow. Flakes settling on the tips of his eyelashes melted into droplets, leaving the corners of his eyes glossy and damp.

The words he had heard from Mugyeol’s grandfather replayed relentlessly in his head.

“Still, because Yi-seon is here today, Mugyeol is talking a bit and laughing. It’s good.”

Am I some kind of Cupid for Mugyeol?

His chest tightened, and as he drew in a slow breath, the frigid air pierced raw into his lungs. Neither the laughter of passersby nor the blaring horn of a passing taxi registered in his ears. Only the heavy, dull thumping of his own heart echoed painfully inside his head.

Standing motionless like an isolated tree, Yi-seon caught his breath for a long while before lifting his bowed head and stepping on the pedals once more. White snow had piled high around the ground where his feet had rested, a testament to how long he had lingered in that single spot.

Yi-seon rode forward, carving fresh tracks into the pristine snow. The backs of his hands gripping the handlebars were numbingly cold, as if they might snap right off. It was a brutally cold winter.

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