Chapter 14: The Midnight Sea in His Eyes

The back room resembled a storage area. Though neatly organized, layers of dust suggested it wasn’t frequently cleaned. However, something more urgent demanded attention than simply surveying its contents.

“Found it.”

I swiftly clasped the object I had been searching for. Just as Yoon Heesung had described, the first-aid kit rested in the deepest part of the second shelf of the cabinet.

It was easy to spot, sitting conspicuously alone on the shelf. It struck me anew how frequently Yoon Heesung must have visited this place since childhood.

The rumor that no one lived at the villa was pure nonsense. The swimming pool, the numerous fairy tales crammed into his room—all pointed to the same conclusion.

His ability to recall the precise location of even the most trivial items, just like now, confirmed that he had often come here to play.

I hurried back to the dining room, moving as if on the verge of a run.

“That must really hurt…”

Mercifully, the bleeding had stopped, but the cut was undeniably deep. The crimson line looked as though it would expose bone if parted with even a slight force.

Sighs escaped me relentlessly, and I found myself frowning. I decided I should disinfect it first, reaching into the box for antiseptic.

“Yunwoo,” Yoon Heesung called out, his voice tender. The gentle sound of my name created a strange sensation, as if my entire body was tingling.

Involuntarily, I shyly hesitated before raising my head, meeting Yoon Heesung’s direct gaze as he looked down at me.

Before I could erect my usual defenses, Yoon Heesung’s question struck like a surprise attack.

“Why did your mood suddenly sour?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not feeling good right now, are you?”

His voice held no discernible inflection, neither accusatory nor angry. He simply stared at me, unblinking, as if observing a curious phenomenon.

“…”

Yet… I didn’t feel particularly bad. It was the first time anyone had ever paid such close attention to my feelings.

But to say I wasn’t feeling good… that wasn’t quite right.

Rather,

“It’s because I feel sorry…”

This was guilt.

Yoon Heesung surely knew the immense regret I felt at that moment. Had I not needlessly intervened, he would have finished his meal by now, unscathed.

My gaze darted around, and my fingers fidgeted incessantly. Then, Yoon Heesung’s next question rendered me speechless.

“I touched it, and I got hurt. Why are you sorry?”

“…”

“I like it when you’re nice to me.”

Yoon Heesung smiled then. Faced with his efforts to put me at ease, I found myself utterly helpless.

“When have I ever been anything but nice to you? …I should clean that up.”

I used the stained floor as an excuse to rise from my seat. Truthfully, I genuinely wanted to clean it immediately.

More than anything, the dark crimson bloodstains were an unbearable sight. I longed to wipe them away quickly. It wasn’t even my blood, yet seeing it made me ache as if I were the one who had been wounded. Why?

“Leave it. They’ll clean it up themselves when they come tomorrow.”

“Then why did you do it? You didn’t have to… for no reason…”

“I was afraid you might step on it. That you might get hurt.”

Yoon Heesung replied as if I had asked the most obvious question. His words carried no hidden agenda, unlike before.

Once again, I found myself speechless. It felt as though something heavy had lodged in my throat, preventing me from uttering a sound.

His claim that he had rushed to clean it up because he was worried I, not a child, might get hurt, felt excessive. I wasn’t young enough to need such care.

Seriously, I should have known better ever since he brushed the dust off my knees on the playground.

…But honestly, I didn’t dislike it.

“This time, seriously, just sit still.”

Yoon Heesung urged me emphatically, then single-handedly set the table with practiced ease. The galbijjim, centrally placed, was warm even though it hadn’t been reheated.

Surprisingly, Yoon Heesung didn’t seem to be a picky eater; there were many namul dishes, most of which I couldn’t identify. Still, it wasn’t excessively lavish, unlike what I had imagined.

That brought a slight sense of relief. It wasn’t intimidating, like the mansion’s front gate that could instantly make one feel small.

Even the wealthy, even Yoon Heesung, ate like everyone else.

“Eat.”

“Thank you for the meal…”

I mumbled my thanks and picked up my spoon. Yoon Heesung sat opposite me, picking up his own utensils a few times before suddenly checking his phone and uttering something completely out of the blue.

“The new lady will cook for us.”

“Huh?”

“She used to run a Korean restaurant, but she retired last year, so they brought her in for this occasion.”

“What are you talking about?”

His words were baffling, so unexpected that I wondered if he was even speaking to me. Yet, as I mulled them over, I realized it was an answer to my previous question.

“You were curious earlier, weren’t you? About who cooked the meals.”

Yoon Heesung… it was clear he listened intently to my every word. Even remarks that were unnecessary or seemed insignificant, he absorbed as if they were truths he dared not miss.

Just like before, a peculiar sensation enveloped me once more. It felt as though I was being lifted into the air and simultaneously dashed to the ground.

I couldn’t find a name for the bewildering emotion.

“Ah… I see.”

I mumbled, meeting Yoon Heesung’s gaze. He returned my look, appearing slightly puzzled, and even tilted his head, offering a small smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…”

Yoon Heesung’s eyes were truly black. The color, unlike any I had ever seen, was beyond mere blackness.

I sought a more fitting description, but no words came to mind. My chest merely ached with the urge to articulate something, anything, at that very moment.

And finally, today, I understood what those eyes resembled.

Yoon Heesung’s eyes were the midnight sea. They held the waves that surged and reigned in the hours when all light had vanished from the world.

The essence of nature, something to be accepted without question, resided within them. Notions of him being kind out of pity, or because he felt a shared suffering, were utterly useless in Yoon Heesung’s presence.

I had never experienced such profound attention in my entire life.

Just then, his eyelids lowered, and his eyelashes fluttered lightly, instantly making me anxious. I feared I might never see them again, might never be able to look into them.

After dinner, I went upstairs and washed. When I put on the pajamas I had brought, Yoon Heesung asked, “You brought pajamas too?”

They were nothing more than my middle school gym shorts and a T-shirt with a stretched-out collar. Feeling I had played enough, I resolved to study diligently this time and opened a book.

I gave Yoon Heesung a different workbook than before. We sat side-by-side, studying for quite a while, and when it was time for bed, I naturally offered to sleep on the sofa.

Yoon Heesung vehemently objected.

“Why bother, when we can just sleep together on the bed?”

“But that would make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all.”

There was no way to overcome Yoon Heesung’s stubbornness. Eventually, I cautiously climbed onto the bed.

He then switched off the fluorescent light and turned on a softer, low-intensity lamp. As I lay on my side, Yoon Heesung lay facing me.

His expression was dimly visible. Feeling awkward, I started to turn my body to the opposite side. In that instant, Yoon Heesung suddenly spoke.

“Yunwoo, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

His voice, lowered significantly, was difficult to hear unless one was very close. As I leaned my ear closer, he whispered,

“When I sleep, I have a habit of hugging whatever’s next to me.”

A burst of laughter escaped me. I made a show of getting up.

“What? Then I’ll go sleep on the sofa.”

“Too late to back out now.”

Yoon Heesung playfully pressed down on my body, and I immediately twisted my shoulder. It was the very moment I was attempting to turn away.

Yoon Heesung’s hand collided with my shoulder. A small groan escaped him.

“Ah…”

“Does your hand hurt?”

Startled, I sat up abruptly. I immediately took Yoon Heesung’s hand, scrutinizing his bandaged palm from every angle, worried it might be bleeding again.

Thankfully, no blood seeped through. I sighed in relief and lowered his hand.

Yoon Heesung, however, looked even more surprised than I did. Perhaps the pain was more intense than he had expected.

Seeing his discomfort, I spoke with concern.

“Be careful. What if it starts bleeding again?”

“…Indeed. I should be more careful.”

With that, Yoon Heesung stretched out an arm and switched off the remaining light. The room instantly plunged into darkness, yet even in the gloom, Yoon Heesung’s presence was distinctly palpable.

He likely felt mine too. I gave up on turning over, worried I might accidentally worsen his injury.

Yoon Heesung suddenly spoke.

“You really worry a lot when I get hurt, don’t you?”

“Of course, I worry. What kind of question is that?”

Especially since it was because of me. I swallowed the rest of my words, knowing Yoon Heesung would only repeat that he was fine.

A bitter taste filled my mouth. Soon after, a rustling sound broke the silence.

He seemed to have pulled back the blanket and extended an arm outside. His next words were barely a whisper.

“I think getting hurt was a good thing.”

“…”

‘What good thing?’ I debated whether to retort but held my tongue. It wasn’t the first or second time Yoon Heesung had said something strange.

I simply wished him good night and squeezed my eyes shut.

****

When I woke in the morning, Yoon Heesung was indeed hugging me tightly. He wasn’t just hugging; he had me practically restrained.

‘Yoon Heesung really does like clinging to people,’ I thought.

Over the weekend, the season had dramatically shifted. Opening the window, the salty scent of the sea was even more pronounced.

Days of restless sleep due to the heat were fast approaching. When I woke today, my mother had already left for work.

I washed the dishes she had left behind, then headed out the front door. I gripped the doorknob firmly and closed the door, careful not to make any loud noise.

Just as I descended the stairs and reached the first floor,

“Oh?”

Beyond the dust-streaked glass door, a familiar school uniform came into view. Standing idly beside a bicycle, as if waiting for someone, was undeniably someone I knew.