Cozy Obsession-Chapter 33

"Come on, say ‘ah.’"

With Heemin’s persistence showing no signs of relenting, Iheon let out a soft sigh. And once again, he quietly accepted the food Heemin was offering.

"Tastes even better now, doesn’t it?"

"Just eat your own food. Stop feeding me."

"Then you feed me."

Heemin urged, wanting to see the rare sight of Cha Iheon using tiny, stubby chopsticks in his large hands.

A fully capable man, perfectly able to use his own two hands and eyes, asking another man to feed him—back in reality, just the thought of it would’ve made him cringe. He never would’ve said something so ridiculous, even as a joke.

But this wasn’t reality. This was a world where men could openly flirt with each other without consequence. And more than embarrassment, the thought of missing out on a rare, amusing sight was too much to pass up.

Tilting his chin slightly, Heemin opened his mouth wide, looking expectantly at Iheon, who appeared visibly torn.

"Ahhh."

"......."

"Hurry up. I’m hungry."

"For fuck’s sake..."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Iheon finally gave in. Awkwardly, he gripped the tiny chopsticks and picked up a piece of kimbap.

The sight of his large fingers struggling to hold the fragile wooden chopsticks, the way he furrowed his brows in concentration to keep the food from slipping—Heemin nearly burst out laughing.

God, he wanted to double over, clutch his stomach, and howl with laughter.

But he wasn’t stupid. If he laughed too much, he might not leave this meal alive. So instead, he simply accepted the kimbap from Iheon’s chopsticks, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

"Eat."

"More."

"You said you were hungry, didn’t you?"

Maybe he was actually starting to enjoy this because Iheon, of his own accord, picked up a piece of tteokbokki and fed it to him.

Despite being a little overcooked, the chewy texture remained, and the thick sauce had seeped into it perfectly. The moment it hit his tongue, it was like he could hear bells ringing in his ears.

He regretted not eating it fresh, but maybe... just maybe... it tasted this good because of the person he was eating with.

"You’re really eating that mess?"

"It’s still delicious."

"Tch. Here, eat."

Iheon picked up another piece.

When Heemin was feeding him, it hadn’t felt strange. But now, quietly accepting the food himself, it felt... oddly embarrassing.

He tried to say it was enough, that he could eat on his own now, but Iheon completely ignored him. He continued until the container was completely empty.

Apparently, even his obsession extended to making sure Heemin was properly fed.

"I’m full."

Heemin stretched his arms as he tossed the empty container and used chopsticks back into the plastic bag.

The fresh scent of cherry blossoms drifted on the breeze, and the lake stretched wide before them. Even though it was late, this had been a perfect meal.

"Heemin."

As Heemin inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air he couldn’t get at home, Iheon suddenly called his name.

His voice was low, smooth—eerily reminiscent of the way he had spoken in the hypnotic memory.

"Hm?"

"......."

"Why’d you call me if you’re not going to say anything?"

He turned his head and met Iheon’s gaze.

Those dark eyes, reflecting the faint glow of light, held something akin to an unhealed wound.

Heemin could tell. Whatever was on his mind, it was heavy. So, instead of pushing him, he simply waited.

After a long pause, Iheon finally spoke again.

"You’re weird."

There was no need to ask why.

Heemin was Seo Heemin, but at the same time, he wasn’t. If anything, it would have been weirder if Iheon hadn’t noticed.

Iheon stared into his eyes, searching—like he was looking for pebbles at the bottom of a lake.

"People who owe debts... they can pretend all they want, but it always shows. Their eyes, their expressions, their words, their actions... anxiety and fear always seep through."

"......."

"But you don’t have that. That’s why you’re weird. It makes me want to crack your skull open and see what’s inside."

Cha Iheon was a man of action.

He had swallowed his pride, crawled through filth, and clawed his way to the top—all to get Seo Heemin in his hands.

If he truly suspected something, it wouldn’t be surprising if he dragged Heemin to a neurologist, had him sedated, and cut open his skull to check if there was anything wrong.

But to Heemin, it didn’t sound entirely like a threat.

If he had really meant it, he would’ve already done it without talking first.

Heemin just listened, watching as Iheon let out a short, wry laugh.

"Maybe it’s because you don’t show it. Even though I know you’re full of shit, I keep falling for your cheap tricks. It’s fucking annoying."

"...Can’t you just keep falling for them?"

Iheon’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly at his question.

Meeting his gaze head-on, Heemin spoke in a voice laced with sincerity.

"I won’t ask you to believe me right away. Things like that aren’t built with words—they’re built with actions."

"Actions?"

Iheon cut him off with a scoff.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"You’re the one who keeps stabbing me in the back."

"But I always come back to you in the end, don’t I?"

"......."

"Everything I do, everything I say, it’s all for you, hyung. So just... let it go like you did today. Don’t punish me so harshly."

Heemin’s eyes curved into a gentle smile.

It was a foolproof trick—one that worked every time.

Well, almost every time.

Let’s see if he glares again like last time.

But before he could find out, something unexpected happened.

Instead of scolding him or throwing out a sharp remark, Iheon suddenly reached for the back of Heemin’s neck.

It wasn’t a slap.

It wasn’t violence.

There was only one thing that could possibly mean.

A kiss.

Heemin’s whole body stiffened.

He could feel the heat of Iheon’s fingers brushing against his skin. His ears burned. His heart pounded so loudly it was almost painful.

Shit. I just ate tteokbokki...

More than the fear of passing out, he was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that his mouth was not in the best condition for a kiss.

He wanted to push him away, but his body was frozen.

As Iheon’s face drew closer, Heemin squeezed his eyes shut.

There was nothing else he could do now but let it happen.

The air between them tightened. His breath ghosted over Heemin’s cheek.

Then—

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"You had a flower petal in your hair."

The warmth of Iheon’s touch disappeared, and the space between them widened instantly.

Heemin slowly opened his eyes, blinking in disbelief.

Iheon, his face unreadable, casually flicked a cherry blossom petal off his hand.

"......."

Heat flared up his neck.

He had completely misread the situation.

He had actually puckered his lips like an idiot.

Like he had been the one wanting the kiss.

The sheer humiliation was unbearable.

Dammit.

He should’ve known better.

If only he didn’t have the same face as my friend back home...

Heemin glared at Iheon with resentment before huffing, "You had one too."

A single petal had landed on Iheon’s shoulder.

With a little too much force, Heemin smacked it off—maybe a little more than necessary.

Iheon raised a brow at the action, but Heemin, feigning innocence, kept brushing at his shoulder.

A tiny act of revenge.

"Let’s go home."

The lake rippled with fallen petals. The warm breeze carried the scent of spring.

It was a perfect day.

Their first date had come to an end.

***

Heemin and Ms. Ahn had a tearful reunion.

[ I was so worried. ]

The moment he read the message on her phone screen, her sincerity struck him right in the chest. Before he knew it, he had thrown his arms around her neck, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry. I left without saying anything, and I even took money from the envelope... I swear I’ll pay it all back when I start making money. Hic.”

[ You don’t have to pay it back. Just don’t cry. ]

“No, I will pay it back.”

She was not a bad person.

But in Heemin’s mind, she had always been Cha Iheon’s person—never his.

She had been with him the longest, yet he had never once considered her perspective, too caught up in his own worries.

Behind them, Iheon clicked his tongue in obvious disapproval. But Heemin ignored him, stubbornly hooking his pinky around Ms. Ahn’s.

“I was wrong. I won’t do it again. And I will return the money I took.”

"Tch. You sound like some runaway kid coming home."

Iheon muttered behind him, clearly unimpressed.

Dr. Hwang, who had come to check on Heemin’s condition, chuckled at the remark. Even Ms. Ahn, who had initially looked pale with worry, finally relaxed, a soft smile appearing on her lips.

"What’s so funny?" Iheon grumbled.

"Can’t a man laugh? Hmph."

“Secretary Jung, take the doctor home.”

"Yes, sir."

It was just a world inside a book. A place meant to be conquered, then left behind.

But still—

Heemin found himself hoping that this warmth, this peaceful moment, would last until the very end.

Iheon, Secretary Jung, Ms. Ahn, Dr. Hwang...

And one runaway young man.

It was an odd group, an unconventional arrangement.

But maybe... just maybe...

This was the kind of family Seo Heemin had always wished for.