Chapter 17: The Stubborn Seasick Passenger

The sapphire sky stretched endlessly, where it met the deep blue sea. The summer sun beat down relentlessly, unhindered by any clouds, making it a scorching day. A small boat cut through the finely fragmented waves, traversing the ocean.

Yoonwoo leaned precariously against the railing, flicking his palm towards the sea. The cracker crumbs, remnants of feeding the seagulls, scattered into the air on the wind. One persistent seagull, still circling nearby, darted closer, squawking loudly.

Yoonwoo, however, no longer had time to entertain the gulls.

“Yeon-chae, are you alright? Are you feeling very sick?”

The small boat rocked violently. The journey to the island was just over an hour, and for the first twenty minutes, Yeon-chae had sat quietly beside Yoonwoo, glaring at the seagulls. But by the thirty-minute mark, cold sweat had begun to bead on his forehead.

When Yoonwoo asked what was wrong, Yeon-chae merely shook his head, his lower lip pressed tightly. His complexion visibly worsened with each passing moment.

“I’m fine… Ugh…”

“Are you going to throw up? Oh, what do I do! Here, use this!”

Yoonwoo held the empty bag, which had once contained seagull feed, to Yeon-chae’s mouth. Yet, Yeon-chae shook his head again, attempting to push the bag away. His eyes were entirely red, likely from the strain of suppressing his nausea. Above his glistening, tear-filled eyes, his wet eyelashes fluttered.

Yoonwoo knelt before Yeon-chae, lowering himself to his level. As he gently stroked Yeon-chae’s broad back, Yeon-chae slowly lifted his head.

“Just throw up here, Yeon-chae. Okay?”

Yoonwoo’s voice was low and soothing, but Yeon-chae only stared at him with mournful eyes. A hint of blood seeped from his plump lower lip, a testament to how fiercely he had bitten down to stifle his urge to vomit.

Pitying him, Yoonwoo cupped Yeon-chae’s cheek. As Yoonwoo’s thumb gently traced his lower lip, Yeon-chae’s eyes trembled weakly.

“I’m fine.”

“What do you mean, ‘fine,’ when you’re seasick?”

“I’m not seasick.”

“Then what is this, now?”

“I just feel a little unwell for a moment…”

“That’s what seasickness is. When we arrive, we should find somewhere for you to rest.”

Yeon-chae’s light-colored eyes wavered noticeably. His previously pale cheeks flushed crimson in an instant. Yeon-chae stuttered his question.

“Where… should we go to rest…?”

“Hmm? Well, wouldn’t there be some kind of accommodation? I think you need to lie down for a bit.”

“Lie down…? Me…?”

“Then should I lie down?”

Yoonwoo let out a soft chuckle, placing the back of his hand against Yeon-chae’s cheek. His suddenly flushed cheeks, as if he had a fever, grew increasingly blotchy. Yeon-chae appeared to struggle even to breathe, his stomach churning. Faint, ragged breaths rose and fell from him. Without a word, Yeon-chae lowered his head, his long eyelashes casting shadows as he stared at the floor. His delicate, slender profile looked almost mournful.

“Are you in a lot of pain? Just bear with it a little longer. I’ll look for something now.”

Feeling a surge of worry, Yoonwoo fumbled for his phone and opened the map app. As it was a tourist destination, he assumed finding a place to rest for a few hours would be easy. Yeon-chae’s face was deathly pale, as if he might collapse at any moment. Only his feverish cheeks held a splash of red, appearing starkly out of place, like crimson petals on snow.

Yeon-chae’s lips parted slightly as he hesitated, but he did not stop Yoonwoo, who was scrolling through the map app. His light brown eyes, fixed intently on Yoonwoo’s phone screen, gleamed faintly.

Yoonwoo murmured, moving his fingers busily.

“Once I book a place, you can get some sleep. I’ll sightsee a bit and then bring back some lunch. Is there anything you want to eat? I wonder if there’s a place that sells porridge. Once you’ve had a nap and eaten, we can head home. I should check the ferry times for leaving the island too.”

“Yes, accommodation… Huh? What?”

Yeon-chae, who had been mumbling along with Yoonwoo, his face blank, suddenly snapped his head up. His light-colored eyes had somehow grown sharper, darker. A note of urgency laced his questioning voice.

“Sightseeing and then going home?”

“No, no, you should sleep. I’ll sightsee for a bit, find a pharmacy for your medicine, and look for a porridge place.”

“You’re going sightseeing alone, Senior? After coming all this way? What about me?”

“Huh? You’re sick.”

“Are you going to leave me alone when I’m sick? Won’t you stay with me?”

“Oh?”

Yoonwoo paused his search for accommodation and gazed up at Yeon-chae. His flushed cheeks seemed to have regained their normal color. ‘Perhaps it was just a momentary fever,’ he mused. Relieved that Yeon-chae appeared fine, Yoonwoo opened his mouth to speak.

“Aren’t you seasick?”

“I am, but…”

“Hey, what’s an Alpha doing getting all worked up over a little seasickness? You’ll be fine after a nap.”

“Still, I need care…”

“How do you ‘care’ for seasickness?”

“…”

Yeon-chae blinked, his face momentarily speechless. Perhaps it was because he was an only child, but he unexpectedly had a spoiled streak.

Even Jinwoo, normally so aloof and blunt, sometimes revealed his status as the youngest in the family, indulging in unconscious pouting. Yoonwoo, however, preferred to raise his younger siblings to be strong. If he indulged every whim, Yoonwoo, as the second child, would receive nothing for himself. This moment was no different.

“I came all this way, so I need to do some sightseeing too. I’ll be back soon once you’re asleep.”

“Senior…”

If he let his heart soften at a pretty face making a pout, he would be easily swayed. ‘The real problem is that little brother thinks he’s so smart and capable,’ Jinwoo’s voice echoed in his mind. Yoonwoo scoffed at Jinwoo’s imagined words. Yoonwoo knew he was perfectly capable of handling his own affairs. He wouldn’t succumb to Yeon-chae’s charm offensive.

He had come all this way to the island, and he wasn’t going to be cooped up in a small room, merely watching a sleeping Yeon-chae. While it was somewhat endearing that Yeon-chae was clinging to him like a mischievous water ghost just because he couldn’t sightsee, Yoonwoo had no intention of indulging him.

“This place looks good. It seems to be right near where we arrive.”

It was then, as Yoonwoo turned his attention back to his phone and found a suitable place, that Yeon-chae suddenly spoke in a subdued voice.

“I’m fine now. I’m not seasick anymore. Let’s sightsee together. I’ve looked up a lot of pretty places.”

“What?”

When Yoonwoo looked up, Yeon-chae’s eyes were dark-rimmed. These were dark circles he hadn’t even seen during exam periods. Despite his gaunt face, his cheeks were noticeably swollen. Yoonwoo gaped, utterly dumbfounded.

However, Yoonwoo was as accustomed to his youngest sibling’s pouting as he was immune to tantrums. Clicking his tongue inwardly, he pinched Yeon-chae’s cheek with two fingers, then tugged. The soft, mochi-like skin stretched smoothly between his fingertips. Yeon-chae’s eyes narrowed to sharp points.

“You said you were sick. Didn’t you just ask for care?”

“I’m not sick. And I’m not seasick… Ugh.”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’ll be fine as soon as we get off. I’m an Alpha, after all.”

Yeon-chae’s voice, as he echoed Yoonwoo’s own words back to him, was utterly dejected. Yoonwoo felt like a cruel owner tormenting a puppy begging to play.

“Hey, Yeon-chae…”

“Ugh.”

“…”

The small boat, which had been swaying back and forth, lurched violently again, caught by the current. Even with just a few passengers, the tiny vessel, easily filled, rocked far more intensely than a typical pleasure cruise. Most of the passengers, apart from Yoonwoo who had been feeding seagulls, were suffering from seasickness.

Yeon-chae was clearly one of them, yet he vehemently shook his head, insisting it wasn’t seasickness, even as his eyes twitched.

Even as their playful argument continued, the boat steadily approached, eventually reaching the island. As the few passengers disembarked one by one, Yoonwoo extended his arm to help Yeon-chae. However, sensing Yoonwoo’s gesture, Yeon-chae quickly recoiled, stepping away. Yoonwoo’s hand hovered in the air, unable to even brush Yeon-chae’s shoulder, before falling limply to his side.

A mortified Yoonwoo exclaimed indignantly.

“I was trying to help you! Why are you acting like this when you’re sick?”

Yeon-chae shouted back, not backing down.

“I’m not sick! I’m going to climb the mountain and go to the cafe at the top!”

“Hey, why are you talking about mountain climbing at a time like this?”

“It’s not very high. It’s just like a small hill behind a neighborhood…”

Despite his haggard face, Yeon-chae stubbornly insisted. He spoke with the fervor of someone who had buried treasure at the island’s peak cafe. A wave of sudden exhaustion washed over Yoonwoo, prompting a long sigh. His stubbornness, it seemed, surpassed even that of the teenagers back home. When Yoonwoo reluctantly nodded, Yeon-chae’s pale cheeks rounded, blooming with relief. His long, slender eyes curved gently into a smile.

“…You, you have to buy motion sickness medicine at the pharmacy before we go back.”

Yoonwoo murmured, his gaze fixed on Yeon-chae’s softly curved eyes. A shard of harsh summer sunlight fell upon Yeon-chae’s smooth forehead. His cheeks, exceptionally pale from seasickness, starkly contrasted with his vividly red lips, which he had bitten repeatedly. Yoonwoo felt like the hunter from Snow White, so captivated by the princess’s beauty that he couldn’t bring himself to harm her, and instead was forced to accompany her.

The journey to the hilltop Yeon-chae so desperately wanted to visit took less than an hour. It was more of a high hill, as Yeon-chae had described, rather than a mountain.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

Upon reaching the low summit, a small cafe, straight out of a fairy tale, came into view. This, Yoonwoo surmised, was the ‘hilltop cafe’ Yeon-chae had been raving about. Beyond the red roof of the modest building, the distant sea met the horizon.

While Yoonwoo remained captivated by the boundary where the sea met the sky, Yeon-chae had already started walking, then suddenly turned his head. He found Yoonwoo, eyes wide and mouth agape, and smiled, his eyebrows softening. His gentle gaze met Yoonwoo’s, who had turned to look at him. Beneath the clear sky, Yeon-chae’s transparent eyes shone like sunlight. Not a single shadow touched his delicately curved eyes.

“Come here, Senior.”

Yeon-chae extended a hand towards Yoonwoo. Yoonwoo stared at the firm, large hand offered to him, then slowly began to move towards him. With each step, his chest felt a tickle within.

“Oh, oh…”

Suddenly, his foot caught on a stone he hadn’t even noticed. His steps tangled, and he stumbled, about to fall forward, but instead of the dirt ground, his nose met a firm chest.

“You need to be careful, Senior.”

Yeon-chae, having swiftly closed the distance with his long strides, firmly grasped Yoonwoo’s arm. His chiding voice held a hint of amusement. The space between Yoonwoo’s cheek and Yeon-chae’s chest was barely enough to avoid contact.

“Oh, thank you…”

The heat from Yoonwoo’s flushed cheeks felt as though it might penetrate his thin T-shirt and touch Yeon-chae’s skin. Involuntarily, Yoonwoo reached out and gently pushed away from the embrace. As the distance between them widened, his gaze naturally shifted upwards.

“Are you alright?”

“…”

Though it was Yeon-chae who had insisted on this place, Yoonwoo still loved the island, even years later, when the memories of that day might have faded. The island’s summer was a vibrant blue. Each time Yeon-chae brushed the hair from his forehead, the moist wind ruffled his strands. The midsummer sun shone so brightly it seemed to steal one’s vision. Under the pouring sunlight, twenty-year-old Yeon-chae smiled as softly as grass.

‘I’m fine.’

He should have answered that way, but his lips refused to part.