Cozy Obsession-Chapter 38

"It's late."

"You came home late yesterday too, so we didn’t get to go for a walk."

"If you want to walk that badly, get on the treadmill."

What, so the downstairs neighbors could come banging on the door? A treadmill at this hour? His words made no sense. Heemin pouted, making his displeasure clear.

"That's not the same at all. I feel like I’m suffocating, stuck inside all day. Let me go out, just for a little while. Please?"

Despite his protests, Iheon acted like he hadn’t heard a thing. He simply shrugged off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Ugh, seriously. You’re really not going out?"

"Read a book. Be good."

A large hand ruffled Heemin’s hair. His face remained indifferent, and his tone was dismissive, but his touch was unexpectedly gentle—so much so that Heemin almost wished he wouldn’t stop.

"I'm taking a shower."

As Iheon turned toward the en suite bathroom, Heemin's gaze followed the intricate tattoo spread across his back—a dragon soaring through a peach blossom-filled forest, clutching a bird in its claws.

The dragon, a symbol of absolute power. The bird with broken wings, symbolizing Seo Heemin.

He had even branded it onto his own skin, a permanent mark of his desire to possess him. And yet, as he turned his back now, walking away so easily, he was nothing but cold indifference.

I can’t figure him out at all.

Heemin absentmindedly touched his head, feeling the lingering warmth of Iheon’s fingers, the faint traces of his pheromones still lingering in his hair.

He was still sulking about not being able to go outside, but... today must have been exhausting for Iheon. Heemin decided to wait another day.

Guess I’ll just read a book.

He plopped onto the sofa and reopened his book, scanning over the last part he had read.

"Fate refers to the relationship between direct causes and indirect conditions. When a cause and its conditions align, they produce a result."

If he applied this logic to his own situation, then meeting Do Junyoung and his sister was simply the result of past causes and conditions. And Iheon keeping his distance for days was just another inevitable consequence of that chain of events.

Or maybe he's just sulking because his pride got hurt.

It felt ridiculous to apply such lofty philosophical concepts to something so petty. Heemin chuckled and kept reading.

"Even if a cause (In) exists, without the right conditions (Yeon), fate does not come to fruition."

Do Junyoung had been handpicked by Seo Jae-han as Seo Heemin’s future husband. But despite several chances, they had never ended up together. They lacked the Yeon—the conditions to overcome the trials before them.

"However, if the conditions (Yeon) are present, then fate will eventually manifest, somewhere, someday."

So did that mean the reason he had possessed Seo Heemin’s body and was now facing thirty-year-old Cha Iheon... was because there was Yeon between them?

Well, they did share the same face and name. It wasn’t like they had no connection.

If Cha Iheon had been some complete stranger, just another random person instead of Seo Heemin’s greatest love and enemy, then Heemin would have found it much harder to carry out his keyword-changing mission.

He wouldn’t have been able to act so familiar with him, or even tolerate physical contact. It would’ve taken time just to get used to having him around.

I need to patch things up with him soon.

Pretending to be lovers was still embarrassing, but he couldn’t just leave Cha Iheon—his best friend’s mirror image—to stew in his own irritation.

After all, the one who had bruised Iheon’s pride was Heemin himself. He needed to make the first move to smooth things over.

Flipping through the pages, Heemin tried to think of a solution.

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

Bringing him food, the way he used to with his sisters, probably wouldn’t work. He needed a different approach.

In romance novels, the protagonists usually... communicate through their bodies...

The ideal way to resolve misunderstandings was, of course, to sit down and talk things out rationally.

But in most of the novels he had read, the power dynamics flipped when physical intimacy came into play.

"Hah..."

He let out a small sigh, deflated by the thought.

Just then, Iheon walked into the living room, fresh from his shower, carrying a thick stack of printed documents.

His damp hair, glistening cheeks, and the clean scent clinging to his skin made Heemin’s chest feel strangely tight.

The moment before, he had been contemplating ways to get closer to Iheon, and now... something about this timing felt weird.

"Where do you think you’re going? Sit."

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Heemin had just barely lifted himself off the couch when Iheon pressed down on his arm, forcing him back into his seat.

"I don’t want to be in your way if you’re working."

"It’s not work."

"Then what is it?"

"A case study."

Heemin glanced at the papers. The heading that caught his eye read, Case Studies on Disability Recovery.

Was he researching speech rehabilitation because of Ms. Ahn? Heemin tilted his head in curiosity. But before he could think too much about it, Iheon tugged his arm again—firmer this time.

As if silently demanding his full attention.

"Don’t leave my sight."

The whole apartment was open-concept, and Heemin’s bedroom walls were made of glass. No matter where he was, Iheon could see everything.

And yet, he was being told to sit right next to him.

"Are you finally done sulking?"

"Sulking?"

Iheon sounded genuinely puzzled.

"You were mad about me making you apologize to Do Junyoung’s sister at the department store."

"I wasn’t mad."

"Then why—"

Why have you been keeping your distance? Why have you been coming home late on purpose? I know you’re doing it on purpose.

Heemin swallowed down the rest of his words. If he let them slip out now, it would only make him seem desperate.

"I don’t know what kind of trouble you’ll cause next."

So... this wasn’t about forgiving him.

It was about keeping an eye on him.

I tried to make peace, and now he’s just poured oil on the fire.

Feeling his irritation spike, Heemin narrowed his eyes at him.

"Do you think I’m some brat who constantly causes trouble?"

"You are a brat."

"I’m not."

"Then should I call you baby instead?"

"Hyung, I’m an adult. I graduated from school a long time ago."

Twenty-one. Nineteen by international age. He was legally independent, able to drink, smoke, and watch R-rated movies.

And yet here he was, being called a baby.

He had already been feeling like he was being treated like a child lately, but now it was painfully obvious.

His expression twisted in disbelief. Seeing this, Iheon smirked.

"Can someone who can’t even eat on their own really be called an adult?"

"..."

"Age doesn’t make someone a grown-up."

Was this his way of getting revenge?

Using words instead of fists to tear him down?

That day at the department store hadn’t even been about right or wrong. But since his pride had taken a hit, he was taking it out on Heemin.

He wanted to fire back—I can eat by myself just fine, I can take care of myself, I can do everything on my own.

But aside from the time he had run away, there hadn’t been a single moment in this world where he had actually done anything alone.

"Fine. I’m reading now, so don’t talk to me, Ahjusshi."

"Seo Heemin."

"Just focus on whatever you brought here."

Screw fate.

With that thought, Heemin adjusted his seat, deliberately turning his back to Iheon. He flipped open his book with a sharp motion, aggressively turning the pages. He had no intention of continuing this pointless argument.

A suffocating silence settled over the living room. It was thick, heavy, pressing down like lead.

And yet, Heemin remained silent, refusing to utter a single word until he reached the final page.

Back when they took their nightly walks together, he had thought everything would continue smoothly, effortlessly. He had never imagined their relationship would sour like this.

Had things unraveled because of Seo Heemin’s tragic fate?

Or was it because of the Heemin now inhabiting his body?

Either way, the keyword-changing project was still at a frustrating standstill.

And the day he would return to his real life...

Had slipped even further away.

***

Characteristics of Obsessed Tyrant Cha Iheon

Poker face. Only smiles when mocking someone.Doesn’t snack—only smokes.Wears nothing but monochrome suits.Drinks alcohol straight, no snacks. Only drinks Exxang, refuses barley tea.Black coffee only. No sugar, no creamer, no milk.Lives in a bleak, pitch-black house. (Needs a tonal adjustment for emotional stability.)Can’t stand seeing Seo Heemin with other Alphas.Doesn’t do housework. (But knows how.)A virgin, yet somehow an expert at kissing.Insomniac. (No late-night fridge raids.)Mistrusts humans. Chronic paranoia.Talks a big game about revenge but is actually a soft-hearted peach.Will eat even soggy tteokbokki if it’s fed to him.Treats clothes like disposable items. (Save money, Iheon.)Sulks at the drop of a hat—like a petty little anchovy.Heemin furiously jabbed a period at the end of that last point, trembling with irritation.

It had been two whole weeks since their minor argument, and yet, Iheon still hadn’t gotten over it.

While the outside world was steadily warming with the arrival of spring, Iheon was doing the exact opposite—freezing everything in his path with his sheer, unrelenting chill.

The once-glorious petals had all fallen. Their peaceful nighttime walks had come to a permanent end.

Had Heemin been delusional in thinking they had made progress?

His fragile hope—that he could peacefully settle things, reach a happy ending, and return home—had vanished like smoke.

And yet, in the midst of his stonewalling, Iheon still sent him to the hospital on schedule without fail.

As a result, Heemin had grown quite friendly with his assigned watchdog, Kim Minseok, and the two of them now made a ritual out of stopping by the same snack shop for tteokbokki before every appointment.

One day, Heemin had casually mentioned wanting to paint again.

The very next morning, his study had been transformed into an art studio—fully stocked with art books and supplies.

If you’re going to be cold, at least stay cold.

Iheon’s contradictory behavior was infuriating.

Had his wounded pride and his love for Seo Heemin somehow split into separate entities?

Honestly, it had been less confusing when he was being treated like a total outcast under the excuse of “dissociative identity disorder.”

Getting something, only to have it snatched away—especially something as intangible as expectation—was far worse.