Chapter 37: The Overflowing Glass

Yoonwoo raised an eyebrow, a look of surprise on his face.

“You? What’s gotten into you, wanting to join a club? Don’t you dislike those kinds of activities?”

“I don’t dislike them…”

Yeon-chae felt a pang of complexity, wondering what kind of image he projected to Yoonwoo. It wasn’t that he particularly disliked group activities, nor was he ostracized by his peers.

He simply had no interest in anyone other than Yoonwoo, and no desire to spend his time on others.

‘Is that so?’ Yoonwoo mused, tilting his head. Yeon-chae, as if making an excuse, added a little more.

“I was thinking of trying a bit of personal investing.”

“That’s a good idea, actually. But I’m an upperclassman, so I doubt they’d let me join.”

Under the table, out of Yoonwoo’s sight, Yeon-chae swiftly moved his fingers, sending a message to Jung-joo.

[Is your club still accepting new members these days?]

[Of course we are! Why, why? Are you thinking of joining?]

[Going alone feels a bit weird, but I’ll join if I can bring a close hyung with me.]

[Oh, really? If you’re coming, then of course, anything goes!]

The reply came almost instantly. Glancing down, Yeon-chae saw about ten ‘Welcome!’ emojis filling the chat window.

Yeon-chae then turned to Yoonwoo, smiling brightly, his eyes crinkling.

“It’ll be fine. Let’s go together tomorrow, Hyung.”

“Huh… really?”

Ultimately, he and Yoonwoo ended up joining the club together. As Yoonwoo beamed with joy upon receiving the confirmation message, Yeon-chae found it quite difficult to maintain a nonchalant, impassive expression.

His feelings for Yoonwoo were like drops of water, steadily falling and accumulating, until a clear glass was now brimming to the very top.

The surface shimmered, threatening to spill over at any moment. The instant the last drop fell, these carefully accumulated emotions would overflow, unable to be contained any longer.

Yeon-chae himself felt this approach to his limit. Lately, it seemed as though a mere poke would cause him to spill out all his feelings for Yoonwoo, making every day a continuous stretch of tension.

What fanned the flames of this unbearable, tingling emotion was Yoonwoo’s demeanor. From some point on, Yoonwoo would occasionally turn to look at Yeon-chae without any apparent reason.

During lectures, while eating, or even when surrounded by his classmates, laughing and chatting, he would suddenly lift his gaze and seek out Yeon-chae.

In those moments, the air around them seemed to slow to a standstill. When their eyes met, Yoonwoo’s eyes would widen into perfect circles, then curve into gentle crescents, forming a soft, inviting arc.

Yeon-chae often felt a lump in his throat. He longed to ask Yoonwoo:

‘Hyung, why do you look at me like that?’

Around that time, Yoonwoo’s kindness was excessively warm. It felt as though Yeon-chae might be burned. This was true even in the dead of winter, with Christmas rapidly approaching.

Thus, without realizing it, he began to hope.

It was a winter of dry winds. Expectations, pushing through the frozen ground, steadily swelled like soap bubbles, growing larger and larger.

Yet, despite everything, Yoonwoo annoyingly scheduled a part-time shift for Christmas Eve. Yeon-chae, a little angry that Yoonwoo had so readily fallen for the special bonus pay, acted coldly and didn’t contact him for several days. Nevertheless, time flowed like water, and that day finally arrived.

Christmas Eve. The sky had been overcast since morning. Yeon-chae gazed out the window, watching the heavens.

It looked as though it might snow.

Yoonwoo’s shift was scheduled to end late that night, but Yeon-chae wanted to go a little earlier to help with closing. Despite bustling about since morning, his preparation time was surprisingly tight.

Yeon-chae spread sweaters, shirts, pants, jackets, and coats all over his bed, pondering deeply. After finally selecting a suitable outfit, he still had to style his hair.

Alternating between wax, hairdryer, and brush, he tried various styles, but nothing seemed quite right.

Biting his lower lip, Yeon-chae stared intently at his reflection. Yoonwoo, ever since childhood, had been susceptible to attractive faces.

Today, he absolutely had to look beautiful for Yoonwoo.

In the end, he washed his hair again and stopped by a hair salon, causing further delay. The hairdresser, who recognized him from his frequent visits, asked if he was going on a date as they dried his hair.

Yeon-chae cast his eyes downwards.

“I’m going to confess.”

“Oh my!”

The hairdresser’s expression became resolute. Even the staff members attending to other clients turned their heads towards Yeon-chae.

The salon owner, who had been leisurely nearby, suddenly appeared and stood behind Yeon-chae. After a few whispered words between them, they began styling his hair in an entirely different manner. Time slipped away once again during this process.

After finishing his grooming, he stopped at a flower shop, then purchased a proposal set from a handcrafted chocolate cafe he had reserved in advance. It contained Yoonwoo’s favorite chocolates.

By the time all his preparations were complete and he stood before Yoonwoo’s cafe, he had long passed his estimated arrival time, now nearing closing.

Yeon-chae took a deep breath. The hand clutching the bouquet felt damp.

Startled, he hastily pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his palms. His tension eased slightly.

He pulled the handle of the cafe’s entrance. With a creak, the thick door swung open.

“I just think it’s weird, even disgusting, to imagine an Alpha liking me…”

“And I’m going to reject you. Can you really still be okay with me after that? I can’t. We wouldn’t even be able to look each other in the eye anymore.”

“What did you hear me say? I told you, I’ve only ever dated girlfriends.”

“Say one more word, and I’m cutting you off right here.”

“Hey, Oh Yeon-chae! Why are you walking so fast? Wait up…”

Hyun-jun panted, trying to catch up, but Yeon-chae couldn’t stop. The bouquet and the chocolate set felt like thorns digging into his hands, causing a sharp pain.

Unable to walk another step, Yeon-chae stopped before a roadside trash can. Its wide mouth gaped, revealing an empty interior.

Thump.

The gifts, prepared for Yoonwoo, never found their owner, instead discarded into the trash can.

“Huh? Hey, why are you throwing that away? Even if you don’t want it, you should consider the thought the person put into it. How can you just toss it like that? Those chocolates are really good; if you didn’t want them, you should’ve given them to me…”

Hyun-jun grumbled from behind him.

Yeon-chae couldn’t reply. His throat felt constricted, making it impossible to utter a single word.

Only Yoonwoo’s voice, which he had just heard, replayed in his ears like a broken radio. Yoonwoo had smiled awkwardly as he rejected Hyun-jun.

Yeon-chae knew that those words hadn’t been directed at him. But truly, weren’t they meant for him nonetheless?

If Yeon-chae, not Hyun-jun, had been the one to confess, wouldn’t Yoonwoo have said, ‘I just think it’s weird, even disgusting, to imagine an Alpha liking me…’?

Would he have said something different, instead of coldly pushing Yeon-chae away with, ‘I told you, I’ve only ever dated girlfriends. Say one more word, and I’m cutting you off right here’?

It was impossible.

Yeon-chae was an Alpha. Yoonwoo, who had once loudly declared he would present as an Alpha, had instead grown up as a Beta, neither Alpha nor Omega.

And he had frowned, making a troubled expression, saying that dating an Alpha was strange.

This was truly the end. No matter how hard Yeon-chae tried, he could no longer endure.

The water filling the glass in his heart had already overflowed, bursting inside his chest like a water balloon. Yet, no one was there to catch that cascading torrent of emotion.

On a rainy spring afternoon, long ago, as he slowly walked by the lakeside with Yoonwoo on his back, the premature hope that had blossomed like a young sprout, dampened by the drizzle, was utterly crushed.

Outside the window of the dark, unlit room, snow had fallen all night, piling up like layers of shattered glass. Yeon-chae, without changing his clothes, barely washed his hands before boiling ramen in the kitchen.

He hadn’t eaten dinner, having been rushed preparing to meet Yoonwoo. He hadn’t even thought to grab a quick bite, as he’d reserved a restaurant with a magnificent night view, intending to go with Yoonwoo.

Now, his stomach rumbled. Even in this state, he was hungry.

The realization that it was all over struck him abruptly, the moment the warm ramen broth slid down his throat, spread through his stomach, and brought warmth to his entire body.

‘Hyung, I like you.’

Instead of the words he couldn’t say, tears burst forth like a deluge. Drops fell *thump-thump*, creating circular patterns on the red broth.

From his bitten lip, he tasted the spicy ramen seasoning mixed with the salty tang of his tears. His chest ached so profoundly that his entire skin tingled.

‘Yoonwoo Sunbae.’

When called that, Yoonwoo’s round crown, previously bowed, would slowly lift. Beneath his pale forehead, his eyes were large and round.

Then, he would curve his eyes and smile at Yeon-chae. That smile was vivid before him now.

Each time, his heart would pound, then, unable to bear the overload, it would scatter into tens of thousands of pieces, fluttering away.

‘You wouldn’t know that, Hyung.’

Clutching onto memories as fragile as glass, Yeon-chae squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep. Yeon-chae suddenly opened his eyes. The world outside the window was bright.

The light was so dazzling that when he instinctively rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, it stung so much he nearly screamed.

Stumbling to his feet, Yeon-chae stood before the mirror. From the opposite side, something swollen and puffy, like an overboiled dumpling, stared back at him.

“…What are you looking at?”

Yeon-chae whimpered in a choked voice. The Yeon-chae across the mirror offered no reply.

On days when Yeon-chae had slept poorly and went to school with swollen cheeks, Yoonwoo would smile so widely his eyes disappeared. He would affectionately call Yeon-chae “pretty like an overboiled dumpling.”

To Yeon-chae, it wasn’t pretty at all, but because Yoonwoo liked it, Yeon-chae liked it too. Yoonwoo’s smiling face now overlapped with the ugly, dumpling-like reflection in the mirror.

Again, tears streamed down his puffy cheeks.