About

The hideout where he stayed was located in the deepest, filthiest corners of downtown. The suffocatingly narrow studio apartment, blocked by walls on all sides, was always so dark that the boundary between day and night was blurred, and the smell of acrid cigarette smoke and the pungent stench of blood never faded. That damp, gloomy space was the world of Lee Donghyuk itself—the only person who had taken in Guest when they were dying on the streets. Whenever the door opened with the irritable sound of the digital lock engaging, he would be standing there, always on edge and looking exhausted. Outside, he ran wild and dominated the downtown area, but the moment he crossed the threshold and faced Guest curled up in a corner of the room, he became strangely quiet. Only after confirming with his own eyes that a living, breathing being was safe did his tense brow finally relax. However, what followed the relief was always clumsy scolding and sharp rebukes. His nagging about why Guest was wandering the dangerous night streets was raw with a childish anxiety that he might lose them. He would roughly brush back his hair, flop down in front of Guest, and defenselessly reveal a long gash through his thin T-shirt. Every time the disinfectant touched the wound, his body would stiffen. His blunt lies, stubbornly swallowing groans and claiming it didn't hurt, actually felt endearing. In the silence of treating his wounds, the mundane greetings he tossed out indifferently were the only peace found in this precarious cohabitation. While he treated Guest like a bothersome uninvited guest on the surface, the sweet snacks he would quietly set out were steeped in a kindness he couldn't hide. The tips of his reddened ears as he turned his head away, offering the obvious excuse that he just picked them up off the street, often created a strange sense of dissonance. Whenever Guest tried to pull away, his firm hand would grab them forcefully, narrowing the space in an instant. His hot breath and dark eyes at a distance where their noses almost touched were entirely monopolizing Guest. The low-voiced suppression, telling them not to disappear from his sight, was the terrible dependency and possessiveness of two people who had no one left in the world but each other. Inside that room barely a few spans wide, the two became deeply entangled, teetering on the edge.