Chapter 13: The Thong Charm

Do-ha’s lips trembled, unsure where to begin with the torrent of words lodged in his throat. Large, heavy tears incessantly streamed from his eyes.

As his vision blurred relentlessly, Do-ha roughly rubbed his eyes with a clenched fist, then exhaled deeply, a heavy ache settling in his chest.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Seo Do-ha.”

The voice, so gentle moments ago as if laced with concern, had hardened abruptly. His once relaxed expression now mirrored the rigid professionalism he wore at the office, a stark change that was instantly apparent.

“I asked why you’re doing this.”

Though a surge of raw emotion welled up, making him hesitate, Do-ha forced himself to voice his thoughts.

“Have I done something wrong to you, Team Leader? Or am I just easy because I’ve been so openly fond of you? You said we weren’t dating. You said you don’t do office romances, and you already have a girlfriend.”

These were words that had lingered in his heart ever since he met Tae-jun. Thoughts that had circled endlessly in his mind now poured out, as if a dam had broken. Only the initial start had been difficult.

“I know I’m not smart like Director Hye-jin, and I’m a useless Omega who can’t help you at all. But you haven’t exactly been innocent either, Team Leader. Why did you make me misunderstand? Did you think I’d be happy to accept this, this thing you’re giving me?”

Do-ha pulled out the gift, still adorned with a delicate ribbon, from the paper bag Tae-jun had offered. Without a second thought, he furiously tore at the wrapping, then hurled the long box he found inside.

Next to the discarded box, a small, transparent container held a lucky charm, catching his eye.

“Just because it’s ‘this’ — a lucky charm, as you call it — doesn’t mean you can treat me however you want. And forcing me to call you every morning? That’s just an abusive boss.”

As he spoke, tears continued to fall, and his voice, laced with sobs, cracked erratically, its pitch rising and falling without control.

“Don’t call me in the mornings starting tomorrow. I won’t carpool with you either. And I really didn’t want to say this, but calling out someone else’s name during s*x? That’s truly despicable.”

Tae-jun’s gaze, colder and more unyielding than ever, pierced into Do-ha’s chest. His eyes held a chilling, detached intensity.

“Even if you were to kneel and beg me to date you later, I would absolutely refuse now. Though, I suppose it’s unlikely you’d ever say such a thing to me, even if you died and came back to life.”

Having finally unleashed the words that had filled his heart, Do-ha, his face etched with a complex mix of emotions, blinked his tear-filled eyes a couple of times.

Ignoring the rapidly falling teardrops, he rose from his seat. Still clutching the small transparent box, he swiftly exited the restaurant.

‘Yes, he’s trash. He’s just a handsome face who likes to toy with people, and I’m the idiot for liking someone like that.’

With the tears finally seeming to cease, Do-ha roughly wiped his face against his collar and stepped into the elevator.

The space felt as though a terrible, devastating tornado had just ripped through it, leaving destruction in its wake.

****

Tae-jun slowly unclenched the fists he had held so tightly, resisting the repeated urge to reach out and touch Do-ha.

More than the tingling sensation of blood returning to his circulation-starved hands, it was a throbbing pain in his chest that enveloped his entire body.

He had almost forgotten that tear-streaked face. When Jin cried, his past self had been powerless, able only to gently wipe away the endless stream of tears that flowed like a tiny spring. All he could do was hold that fragile body, which felt as though it might shatter if he embraced it too tightly, and comfort them.

They say a love that only brings mutual pain isn’t true love, yet his heart had been so drawn to those precious moments that he had pursued it regardless.

To think it was the same then as it was now. Back then, at least, they could share the pain, but now, merely watching the situation unfold, a poignant, bitter laugh escaped him.

Sighing deeply, Tae-jun raised a hand and ran it over his face.

Knowing precisely what every one of Do-ha’s words meant, Tae-jun had only been able to part his lips, unable to speak, as Do-ha poured out his heart.

He had wanted to hear Do-ha’s voice, even if it meant forcing him to give morning calls. He had taken Do-ha along on inspections, knowing he would struggle after drinking, simply because he longed to be with him.

He had been overjoyed to see Do-ha eat galbi-tang as he used to, and he found a quiet satisfaction in watching Do-ha’s peaceful sleeping face beside him.

Even though he knew it was wrong, and his mind and words had rejected Do-ha’s shy confession, it was Tae-jun who had desperately sought him out.

He had called Do-ha into his office multiple times for tasks that could have been handled in a single instance. He found Do-ha’s round, bowing head endearing. He wanted to see those bright, clear eyes, fully focused on him, wondering what he would ask next.

Every tiny movement, from Do-ha’s hesitant steps as he emerged to the cute fingertips that brushed Tae-jun’s hand when he accepted a file, all of it had become etched into Tae-jun’s heart.

Even knowing it was wrong, memories of those foolish days when they only knew each other resurfaced, filling him with a solitary excitement and leading to sleepless nights.

He hadn’t realized that his actions, driven by his sordid and dark desires, were eroding Do-ha in such a way.

Even though he knew the emotions reflected in Do-ha’s gaze, he had still struggled to receive even a fraction more of that attention.

And to claim he had hoped Do-ha would give up on him was a terrible lie.

He recalled the sudden fear that Do-ha would abandon him, triggered by the sight of Do-ha’s pained and flustered reaction to seeing Hye-jin.

“I’ve been properly dumped, then. Still, if it’s come to this, it’s for the best.”

Tae-jun’s face, heavier than ever, sank as he picked up a paper box from amidst the torn wrapping scattered across the floor.

Suddenly, another image of Do-ha, weeping beneath him, came to mind. His face had been flushed just as red then.

Do-ha’s skin was so fair that even a slight surge of emotion or a few tears would turn the corners of his eyes and the tip of his nose bright red.

“Do-ha.”

Though it had been almost lost in a moan, he hadn’t failed to hear that name.

A name whispered through pupils enlarged by tears.

What had he said to Do-ha, who had wept beneath him, overwhelmed by pleasure and ecstasy?

“Jin, cry beautifully for me.”

As that night with Do-ha vividly replayed in his mind, he felt all the blood in his body rush downwards.

“Ha—. What an utter scumbag. You’re beyond redemption, Kang Tae-jun.”

Drained of all energy, Tae-jun stared blankly at the ceiling.

Was it a sin to inflict the deepest wound, then wish for it not to hurt?

****

When the door lock password was entered incorrectly for the third time, Jia felt a strange premonition. She checked the intercom screen, then rushed out to open the door.

It hadn’t been long since Do-ha left, saying he would meet the Team Leader, yet now he stood there with a completely disheveled face. Jia found herself unable to speak easily.

“Do-ha?”

“I guess there’s no such thing as a lucky charm.”

The Do-ha who always smiled and remained bright in any situation was gone. As Do-ha listlessly removed his shoes and spoke, Jia’s gaze swiftly swept over him.

The moment she realized what was inside the transparent box he clutched, a sigh escaped her.

It was a gift she had bought in high school to tease the naive Do-ha, back when she had accompanied her parents to Europe.

A leopard-print men’s thong, conspicuous anywhere.

She could still vividly recall Do-ha’s excited expression as he opened the gift box to examine its contents. The real problem was that he hadn’t even realized it was a thong when he first received it.

He had claimed to love the leopard print and the feel of the fabric in his hand, regardless of what it was. Though she had vehemently protested, calling him a pervert, there was no stopping Do-ha once he fixated on something unusual.

She had simply assumed he would stop carrying it around once he was thoroughly embarrassed.

Even after she genuinely helped him get into university and become an intern through her connections, Do-ha still believed that wretched thong, which was practically useless, was bringing him good luck.

Both Jia and Hyun-woo had initially tried to dissuade him before giving up. Was he still going on about that thong even now?

Suddenly enraged, Jia snatched the transparent box from Do-ha’s hand and pulled out its contents.

“Right, there’s no such thing as a lucky charm in this world. Throw this away. Let’s get rid of it right now!”

“Hey! What’s gotten into you?”

Do-ha, who had just lamented the lack of a lucky charm, quickly reached out his hand upon seeing what Jia held.

“It’ll be better if we throw it away, won’t it? Haven’t you been dragged around by the Team Leader because of this? Huh? Let’s get rid of this bad luck charm!”

“No!”

Jia quickly twisted her body, but Do-ha’s fingertips caught on the thong’s strap, and an unexpected tug-of-war began in the middle of the night.

“What do you mean, ‘no’? Throw it away, and I’ll buy you something better. What’s it called, a dreamcatcher? I’ll make you a dreamcatcher! You said it was pretty before.”

“Let go, right now. Whether it’s thrown away or not, that’s my decision.”

*Rip!*

Jia, who had tumbled to the floor on her backside, quickly looked down at the scrap of fabric in her hand.

A tattered piece of cloth was in her hand. In Do-ha’s hand, as he sat opposite her, was a black string.

“Hey, you crazy b*tch!”

A startled Jia frantically threw the remaining piece of fabric at Do-ha, but what she got back was a barrage of vulgar curses, unlike anything she had ever heard from him.

“Do we really have to go this far?”

“Yeah. They say you can’t just throw away a charm. You have to burn it.”

Jia clicked her tongue, peering into the kitchen sink. She wondered where on earth he picked up such superstitions.

After all, he couldn’t keep carrying around a torn thong. This was the method Do-ha, having lost his composure and thrown a fit, had finally found after a long search on his phone.

“It looks dangerous.”

Despite her words, Jia handed Do-ha the cooking oil she held.

“That’s why we’re doing it here. If it gets dangerous, we can just turn on the water.”

With sorrowful eyes, Do-ha stroked the odd piece of fabric one last time. He carefully placed it in the sink, then began to douse it with cooking oil, while Jia watched with skepticism.

‘It’s cotton underwear anyway, wouldn’t it burn well enough on its own? Does he really need to pour cooking oil on it?’

“Hmph, thanks for everything until now. Oh, and you, make me a dream… whatchamacallit.”

“Alright, fine. I said I’d make it for you.”

Jia, who had impulsively promised to make a dreamcatcher, left Do-ha to his task and opened the refrigerator. The situation seemed to have settled, and she figured they should at least get some late dinner.

“Aargh!”

‘What’s with all the fuss?’ Jia turned at Do-ha’s urgent cry, her face paling instantly.

“You idiot! Why would you stick your head in there?!”

Frantically, Jia covered Do-ha’s bangs with a wet dishrag. A string of expletives and a long sigh escaped her lips.

“Uh, it just wasn’t lighting well.”