Come Looking for Flowers Chapter 3.1 - Dissociation

He didn’t even attempt to take off the bracelet. Even if he were lucky enough to remove it, there was nothing good that would come from it. He wasn’t foolish enough to act on something he knew wouldn’t help.

He was just dazed. It wasn’t that he had been thinking deeply, but his memories were fragmented, coming and going in patches. When he came to his senses, he often found himself in a different place from his last memory or waking up in strange surroundings.

The dog never left Yoonjo’s side. It no longer wagged its tail or nuzzled him like it used to. It simply stayed a step away, rolling its jet-black eyes warily as if keeping watch.

Since the bracelet was put on, Won Kangho’s violent sex had calmed down to some extent. As a result, the mottled marks that had covered Yoonjo’s body like tattoos had mostly faded.

Perhaps feeling better, Won Kangho had once again filled the dressing room with clothes. From loungewear to outfits for going out, it was packed with all sorts of garments, but the only things Yoonjo touched were the loungewear for staying at home.

Today, as always, Yoonjo sat leaning against the penthouse’s floor-to-ceiling living room window, staring out at the scenery unfolding below for a long while. The world seemed to move on as if nothing was wrong, while he alone felt stuck in this place.

“Young master, you should eat.”

Yoonjo couldn’t bring himself to grow attached to the helper who called him “young master” and treated him kindly. Meeting the helper’s worried gaze, Yoonjo’s expression was hollow. His body, unable to eat or sleep properly, was wasting away quickly.

Though he wasn’t in the mood, he knew that if he didn’t eat, the helper would get into trouble. Won Kangho always checked whether Yoonjo had eaten his meals properly, and if he heard that Yoonjo hadn’t, he held the helper responsible.

With a sigh, Yoonjo rose from his spot and slowly made his way to the dining room. It took a long time to eat the prepared food and leave the table. His footsteps toward the bedroom were hurried.

“Ugh…”

Entering the bathroom attached to the bedroom, Yoonjo vomited everything he had eaten. The tears welling up from the physical strain and his reddened eyes made him look more desolate than anyone.

Vomiting right after eating had, at some point, become a habit. Won Kangho didn’t know about it. If he found out, there was no telling what he might do to Yoonjo.

“Baby.”

The time Won Kangho came home varied each day. Sometimes it was in the middle of the day with the sun high in the sky, sometimes in the pitch-black night.

Today, the man returned late in the evening. Won Kangho gently lifted Yoonjo, who was sitting in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass, and carefully set him down on the sofa. His hair, scattered across the dark gray sofa, took on an amber hue.

“You’re eating so much, so why aren’t you gaining weight?”

A large hand slipped under his loungewear top. His already flat stomach had become so thin that the bones stood out. Won Kangho caressed the cool skin gently while holding Yoonjo’s bracelet-bound wrist with his other hand.

“Are you protesting? Asking me to take this off?”

The man who had clamped the bracelet on his wrist let out a low chuckle. The bracelet, which had fit perfectly until recently, was now loose enough for a finger to slip through.

When he grabbed Yoonjo’s arm and shook it gently, his hand dangled limply. Even as he toyed with him, Yoonjo showed no particular reaction.

One by one, the buttons were undone. Won Kangho took in every inch of the exposed skin. He ran his hand over the faded marks, then softly slipped into Yoonjo’s pants. Leaning forward, he buried his nose in Yoonjo’s pale neck and inhaled deeply.

“Don’t waste your energy on pointless things. You know it’s a waste of time.”

His senses were uselessly vivid. The touch of Won Kangho’s hands caused Yoonjo’s pale face to gradually flush with heat. The lips brushing his reddening cheeks curved into a gentle arc. Yoonjo faced him without any expression.

“No matter how much you struggle, it’s pointless.”

“…”

“Just take the easy path, Yoonjo. Alright?”

Yoonjo didn’t resist the pheromones Won Kangho released, letting the heat that filled his lungs and spread through his body take over.

A breath brushed against his lips. It was the breath of a living person. The pounding heartbeat from the chest pressed against his transmitted clearly.

He could feel the other’s presence, but he couldn’t feel his own.

Was he dead? He had thought every day that it would be better to die, but had he actually died?

Even as their lips met, Yoonjo’s eyes didn’t close. His empty pupils took in the cityscape beyond the window. Suddenly, he felt the urge to fly.

Every day passed in a similar routine.

Yoonjo spent most of his time staring out the floor-to-ceiling window. At mealtimes, he dragged himself to the dining room to eat, then immediately headed to the bathroom attached to the bedroom to throw it all up.

When Won Kangho came home, Yoonjo, without fail, spread his legs to receive him. Even if there was no penetration, Won Kangho touched his body every day. Marks began to reappear on Yoonjo’s body, one by one.

“…It’s stifling.”

For the first time in a long while, he managed to force out a voice. His throat, strained from the previous night, sounded terrible. Yoonjo clutched his sore throat and grimaced.

For the first time, he felt the desire to go outside. Lifting his head slightly from the window, the dog lying nearby suddenly raised its head. As Yoonjo stood up, the dog followed suit.

Walking down the hallway and finally reaching the desired place, Yoonjo looked around with anxious eyes. No one had stopped him on his way to the entrance.

Clutching his pounding heart, Yoonjo carefully grasped the doorknob. The sound of his heartbeat echoed in his ears. With a click, the door opened easily, granting Yoonjo a sliver of freedom.

“What’s the matter?”

Of course. Unlike the front door, Won Kangho would never grant him such freedom. His racing heart sank coldly.

As soon as he opened the door, he was met with the menacing faces of men glaring down at him. Flinching under their sharp gazes, Yoonjo stammered out a response.

“Um… just, a short walk…”

“No.”

“…”

“Go back inside.”

His cautious question was flatly rejected. The hand gripping the doorknob turned white.

“What’s going on?”

As he hesitated, a voice accompanied by footsteps interrupted. Yoonjo and the men turned toward the sound.

Manager Jeong, dressed neatly in a suit, was approaching. Even though it was a familiar face, Yoonjo felt more wary than relieved. Biting his lip, Yoonjo stood face-to-face with Manager Jeong.

“Why are you out here?”

Yoonjo quietly lowered his eyes, scratching at his wrist. The skin around his wrist, scratched repeatedly, was red and inflamed.

Manager Jeong’s gaze shifted between the guards and Yoonjo. A smile soon spread across his face as he quickly assessed the situation.

“There’s a garden on the rooftop. Would you like to see it?”

“…What?”

“The weather’s nice today. Let’s go together.”

Manager Jeong smiled brightly and gestured toward the opposite end of the hallway. A flicker of fear passed through Yoonjo’s amber eyes.

Was this okay? Was this another test? All sorts of worries flooded his mind.

“Come on, let’s go. I’ll escort you, but I have to grab some documents and head back down.”

There was no malice in his smiling face. After hesitating for a while, Yoonjo quietly took a step forward. The guards blocking his way didn’t stop him. It was the first time he had left the penthouse without Won Kangho.

Following Manager Jeong, he reached a glass door at the end of the hallway. Beyond it, a wide rooftop unfolded. As soon as the door opened, a large glass dome-like space caught Yoonjo’s eye—the glass garden Manager Jeong had mentioned.

“It’s nicer than you’d expect, right? It’s well-maintained, but I was disappointed that hardly anyone comes here.”

Stepping inside, the air, neither too warm nor too cold, enveloped him. The fresh scent of grass calmed his anxious heart.

“The boss will probably turn a blind eye to this place. Come here often to take a look around. I’ll let the security team know. Oh, and the gardener is here from ten to twelve, so keep that in mind. There are benches over there too, so you can rest if you get tired.”

Yoonjo, who had been looking around in a daze, bowed deeply. When he raised his head, a spark of life flickered in his face, unlike before.

“Thank you.”

Looking at him, Manager Jeong felt a bitter taste in his mouth.

“…Don’t mention it. I didn’t do much.”

Bringing Yoonjo to the garden was an impulsive decision.

He hoped that the omega in front of him could endure a little longer by his boss’s side. That was the only reason he showed him the garden—to delay his breaking point, even just a little.

To Manager Jeong, Lee Yoonjo seemed dangerously fragile. Like thin glass, unlike the thick dome surrounding this garden, he looked as though he could shatter with a single touch, teetering on the edge of collapse.

Still, Manager Jeong was Won Kangho’s man. In all matters, he had to prioritize Won Kangho. Even after witnessing a person’s life fall into ruin.

“I’ll be going now. See you next time.”

With a gentlemanly smile, Manager Jeong left promptly. For the first time since being brought here, Yoonjo had a moment to himself.

Yoonjo wandered freely through the glass garden. True to their word, there wasn’t a single weed in sight. He loved this space, filled with blooming flowers and trees.

Being among living things made him feel alive too. It was as if the time that had stopped since being caught in Won Kangho’s grasp was flowing again.

A familiar floral scent wafted over. Drawn to it, he saw a cluster of yellow flowers in full bloom—freesias.

“They’re beautiful…”

Afraid of damaging them, he didn’t touch them, only taking them in with his eyes. In the still garden, not a single petal stirred.

In the center of the garden was a fountain, surrounded by circularly arranged benches along the garden trees. His eyes sparkled as he exhaled a long breath. They were no longer empty.

The scent of the flowers lingered at the tip of his nose. Glancing around cautiously, Yoonjo carefully released what he had been suppressing. Letting go of what had been leaking despite his efforts to hold it back felt incredibly relieving.

His recessive constitution caused many problems. He couldn’t control his pheromones properly, his heat cycles were irregular, and the chances of pregnancy was low. Fortunately, that was a relief. Despite all the sex with the man, there were no signs of pregnancy.

“Sigh…”

Letting out a long breath, Yoonjo leaned back on a bench and looked up at the sky beyond the glass garden.

It would be nice to fall asleep like this forever. The thought alone made him happy. If only every day could be this peaceful and quiet.

But dreams were just dreams—they didn’t come true. For someone whose future had been stolen, such dreams were a luxury.

“All the dogs in the neighborhood would come running with their eyes rolled back.”

Yoonjo couldn’t enjoy the brief peace for long. A low voice shattered it. His body stiffened as he recognized the voice’s owner.

“Having fun, Yoonjo?”

A crack instantly formed on his relaxed face. His frightened body recoiled. Won Kangho, who had appeared without warning, closed the distance with confident strides.

Unable to stand or flee, Yoonjo merely watched him approach, holding his breath.

“Manager Jeong did something unnecessary.”

“Ah…!”

“You seem to like this place.”

As always, Won Kangho sat Yoonjo on his lap, inspecting his face and body as if appraising an object. Just as Yoonjo had developed a habit of eating and vomiting, Won Kangho had a habit of checking Yoonjo’s body for new marks every time he returned home.

“What’s this?”

Red scratch marks covered the skin around the wrist he grabbed. Some spots were even peeled. The bracelet slid down his arm under the man’s grip.

“Are you doing this on purpose? To piss me off?”

Won Kangho didn’t mind leaving marks himself but disapproved of Yoonjo harming his own body.

Even in this moment, Won Kangho was domineering. Yoonjo’s body stiffened in panic. Unable to respond, he averted his eyes. His captured wrist felt scalding, but no amount of subtle struggling could free it from the man’s grip.

“Let go, please…”

Won Kangho didn’t respond. Instead, he lifted Yoonjo and stood.

Yoonjo’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden change in height. His startled hands flailed in the air, unsure of what to grasp.

“Put me down, I can walk…”

“Who’s going to eat you?”

The playful chuckle made Yoonjo uncomfortable and uneasy, especially since it was Won Kangho holding him like a doll.

“Please put me down…”

“Tch—”

Won Kangho made a threatening sound and slapped Yoonjo’s small backside with his large hand. Yoonjo’s body froze in shock.

Silence followed. Yoonjo stayed still in Won Kangho’s arms as they returned to his space. Humming a tune, Won Kangho seemed oblivious to Yoonjo’s feelings.

To Yoonjo, the penthouse wasn’t home. It was merely Won Kangho’s space, never his own.

Carrying Yoonjo, Won Kangho headed straight to the dining room. The helper must have left, as there were no signs of anyone else.

In the dining room, Won Kangho set Yoonjo down on a chair and sat across from him. The smell of food stung Yoonjo’s nose.

“Eat.”

“…”

“You’re not leaving until you finish.”

It was a phrase Won Kangho habitually said during meals together. And true to his word, Yoonjo couldn’t leave until he finished his share.

He quietly picked up a spoon. The act of putting food in his mouth was natural. Suppressing the urge to gag had become easier than eating.

The clinking of utensils filled the silence. The room was utterly quiet. Their mealtimes were always like this—silent, hushed, and steeped in stillness.

Neither spoke. Both ate their portions in silence, as if accustomed to it.

Won Kangho finished early but stayed until Yoonjo emptied his plate. Yoonjo, mindful of his gaze, forced down the remaining food. It was less than an average adult male’s portion, but to Yoonjo, it was overwhelming.

“Done?”

“Yes.”

He barely suppressed a gag. Yoonjo stood naturally and left the dining room quietly.

Urgency clung to his steps as he escaped Won Kangho’s sight. Covering his mouth, he rushed into the bathroom and locked the door.

Clutching the toilet, he vomited everything he’d eaten. His throat burned and ached from the strain.

His throat swelled and relaxed repeatedly. A tear rolled down his cheek. With a long sigh, he slumped to the floor.

“…”

“…”

A sudden sense of déjà vu made him turn. His eyes met those of a figure leaning against the doorframe, and Yoonjo held his breath. Through his teary vision, the man’s sharp features came into focus.

“What?”

“…”

“Don’t mind me, finish what you were doing.”

Won Kangho’s dark gaze was chilling, almost freezing.

He seemed eerily calm, as if he’d known all along.

Terrified, Yoonjo couldn’t speak. Tears welled up quickly in his eyes, hot as they fell.

“Done?”

His voice cut like a blade. Yoonjo belatedly noticed the bundle of keys dangling from Won Kangho’s hand. Catching his gaze, the man lightly held them up.

“My house. Is there anywhere I can’t go?”

“…”

“I asked if you’re done.”

Instead of answering, Yoonjo quietly stood. He flushed the toilet, rinsed his mouth at the sink, and gripped the counter as dizziness blurred his vision, closing his eyes tightly.

Would he hit him again? With what? How much? Would it end before the day was over? His mind filled with vivid images of blood.

“Ah…!”

Won Kangho didn’t wait. He yanked Yoonjo’s wrist, pulling him from where he stood with his eyes shut tight.

He led Yoonjo back to the dining room. Yoonjo’s face paled at the sight.

The table was set with the same food he’d just eaten—rice, soup, side dishes, and water, all as they were.

His shoulders slumped. Forced to sit, Yoonjo faced Won Kangho, who took the seat across from him.

There was no portion for Won Kangho. Only Yoonjo’s meal, perfectly reset.

“What are you doing? Eat.”

“…”

“You must be hungry after emptying your stomach.”

Yoonjo’s eyes filled with fear at the inscrutable behavior.

Unable to pick up the spoon, he stared at Won Kangho, whose faint smile faded as he propped his chin. His lips formed a flat line.

“Not eating?”

Yoonjo bit his lip. Won Kangho’s voice continued, laced with a sigh.

“When I ask nicely, you don’t listen…”

A heavy silence settled between them. In the absence of even the ticking of a clock, Yoonjo stared at the food, perfectly restored, while Won Kangho stared at him.

Rising from his seat, Won Kangho slowly approached. His large hand suddenly gripped Yoonjo’s face.

“Ugh…”

“You only listen when I raise a hand.”

Was he going to hit him? Memories of past blows made Yoonjo’s eyes shut reflexively. But what followed was beyond reason.

“Urk…!”

“Chew.”

Won Kangho scooped rice with his bare hand and forced it into Yoonjo’s mouth.

“I said chew.”

Fearing he might spit it out, Won Kangho held Yoonjo’s mouth shut until he swallowed.

The sudden intrusion of food turned his stomach. A wave of nausea blurred his vision. Yoonjo hurriedly pushed the man’s arm away.

His face, stuffed with rice, grew increasingly pale. As his struggling intensified, his body toppled backward along with the chair.

Freed from the man’s grip, Yoonjo immediately vomited. A pained sound accompanied the violent retching.

“Ugh…!”

Yellow bile stained the pristine white marble. His ears rang, and his insides burned with pain. Clutching his chest, he gasped for breath. He knew he needed to get up, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

Won Kangho’s voice echoed as if underwater. His head throbbed, and his breathing was ragged. His heartbeat pounded in his ears like a drum. His chest, feeling as though it had swallowed fire, ached so much that he clawed at it with his nails.

The gaze looking down at him was sharp and unyielding. Collapsed on the floor, Yoonjo closed his eyes, the man’s face being the last thing he saw.

It’s too hard. Someone, please save me. He thought he might have screamed those words. His memory was hazy.

The repetitive cycle was exhausting. Falling ill from pain wasn’t new, but each time it happened, he felt utterly pathetic and useless.

The familiar ceiling was nauseatingly tiresome. Yoonjo let the strength drain from his heavy eyelids. Darkness settled over his vision once more.

The burning in his stomach had somewhat subsided, but it still throbbed. If he lifted his clothes, he imagined his chest would look scorched black.

Click. The sound of the door opening made him open his eyes. Lying on his side, he could see the door without turning his head.

“How are you feeling?”

Meeting a slightly surprised gaze, Yoonjo slowly sat up. Dr. Choi, sitting in the chair by the bed, wore the same kind expression as before. Yet, there was a strange shadow over his face.

His mouth was parched. How long had he been like this? Clutching his sore throat lightly, he leaned his tired body against the headboard.

“I…”

Why was it so hard to utter even a single word like “I”? Yoonjo closed his eyes tightly, swallowing the pain for a moment. Gulping down dry saliva, he produced a hoarse voice.

“How long… have I been like this?”

“It’s been exactly three days. Since I was called by the boss.”

“…Three days?”

Had he been lying here for three whole days? Only then did he notice the IV needle in his arm, unaware of when it had been inserted.

When he was with Won Kangho, time dragged on cruelly. But on days when he fell gravely ill like this, time slipped away without him even realizing it.

“Would you like some water?”

“…Thank you.”

Dr. Choi kindly filled a cup with water and handed it to him. It took a long time to drink even half of it. Even drinking water felt overwhelming.

Dr. Choi stayed quietly by his side until Yoonjo finished the cup. His gaze, examining Yoonjo’s noticeably gaunt face, was filled with concern.

“Are you eating regularly?”

“…Yes.”

He did eat regularly. The problem was that he threw it all up.

Every day, he was served lavish meals, but the moment he ate, he vomited everything. The mere thought of food filling his stomach made his breath catch, urging him to throw it all up immediately.

Hearing Yoonjo’s delayed response, Dr. Choi gave a slightly bitter smile.

“Your body isn’t accepting food well, is it? You’re probably throwing it all up. Hasn’t that been hard on you?”

Struck to the core, Yoonjo silently scratched his wrist. Blood beaded on the already scarred skin. Dr. Choi gently pulled his hand away and continued.

“There’s a slight indication of a stomach ulcer, and I suspect malnutrition as well. Is there anything else bothering you?”

Dr. Choi didn’t press for an answer. He simply waited for Yoonjo to speak. The silence pricked at his throat.

“This is just an old man’s meddling, but…”

Yoonjo’s gaze, fixed on the blanket, lifted. His eyes wavered under Dr. Choi’s concerned look.

“In my opinion, it might be good to get checked in another area…”

“Another… area?”

“Sometimes, a sickness of the mind can make the body ill.”

Blink. Yoonjo slowly closed and opened his eyes. He instantly understood what Dr. Choi meant.

It was the first time. The first time someone had shown concern for him. Since falling into Won Kangho’s grasp, no one had cared about Yoonjo.

“It’d be good to visit the hospital for some tests. I may not look it, but I’m quite skilled in various fields, haha. If you’re uncomfortable with me, there are plenty of other capable doctors, so no need to worry.”

Despite Dr. Choi’s efforts to lighten the awkward atmosphere, Yoonjo’s expression remained unchanged.

When he reached to scratch his wrist again, Dr. Choi smiled softly and wrapped it with a bandage. His touch was careful.

“Just think about it. If you have a doctor in mind, let the boss know.”

“…”

“I want to help as much as I can. Please consider it positively.”

In the end, Yoonjo didn’t respond. After Dr. Choi left, the bedroom was filled with silence.

Still leaning against the headboard, Yoonjo gazed blankly at the sunset outside. The world was turning crimson.

He wished time would stop. This moment, undisturbed by anyone, was more precious to him than anything. Soon, Won Kangho would barge in.

When would he be able to leave this place? How much debt was left? His thoughts naturally turned to the debt tied to his future.

He had lost count of how many times their bodies had intertwined. The money Won Kangho gave as payment was never small. He hadn’t counted it, but the thickness alone gave him a rough idea.

The hope that his debt had significantly decreased was just that—hope. Day by day, the interest snowballed. Whether that large sum of money had even touched the interest was uncertain.

Living because he couldn’t die. That was the most accurate sentence to describe Yoonjo’s situation.

He wiped the tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand. Crying without realizing it had become familiar. His expression remained unchanged.

“Not sleeping?”

The moon had taken the sun’s place. Won Kangho’s voice broke the silence in the darkness. The bright light streaming through the open door stung his eyes.

His gaze, fixed on the window like a terminally ill patient, turned to the side. A man in impeccable attire entered the room.

The man’s approach tightened Yoonjo’s throat. Lacking the strength to clutch his pounding chest, he simply stared at him.

Won Kangho expertly checked the remaining IV bag. Yoonjo couldn’t push away the hands that removed the needle and applied a bandage.

“Dr. Choi came by, huh?”

Won Kangho took the chair Dr. Choi had occupied. He grabbed Yoonjo’s hand, and the bandage, ruined from scratching, came loose.

The exposed skin was unsightly, covered in nail marks. Won Kangho applied ointment and wrapped it with a new bandage. Yoonjo’s gaze, watching him, was dark. A sudden curiosity arose.

Why did he do this? He had torn Yoonjo’s soul to shreds, yet why did he treat this worthless body so preciously?

Yoonjo quietly twisted his wrist free. The man’s sharp gaze, having lost its hold, turned to him.

“Boss.”

His overworked throat produced a pitiful voice.

“How much is left?”

“What.”

“The debt.”

Their eyes met. He saw eyes darker than the night sky. Reading the emotions within, Yoonjo didn’t stop speaking.

“How much longer do I have to roll around before I can leave this place?”

“…”

“I need to know that much to keep going.”

Won Kangho’s face hardened coldly. Unfortunately, that expression no longer instilled fear in Yoonjo.

He wasn’t speaking out of hope or dreams. It was mere curiosity. Curiosity about whether he could leave this place before he died. He wasn’t dreaming of a trivial future.

They locked eyes for a moment. The trembling, terrified Yoonjo who couldn’t meet his gaze was no longer there. His dead eyes were cloudy.

“Who knows.”

The wrist he had freed was seized again.

“Your body’s not that valuable.”

“…”

“You think spreading your legs a few times would clear that much debt?”

His smirk was like a blade—sharp and pointed, as if it could pierce Yoonjo’s heart at any moment.

Won Kangho kissed the bandaged wrist, his gaze still fixed on Yoonjo. A chill ran through him under that icy stare.

“Looks like our Yoonjo wants to pay off the debt quickly.”

The hand slid down his body to his ankle, pulling him sharply downward.

Won Kangho climbed on top naturally, pinning both wrists above Yoonjo’s head with one hand.

“Want the boss to help?”

There was no pride left to trample.

“If you stay conscious until the end, I’ll knock off ten million won.”

“…”

“Hold on well.”

He swallowed the sob threatening to escape. Now wasn’t the time to cry. To take the next step, he had to endure, even if it meant crushing himself.

“Doctor.”

Dr. Choi’s eyes widened as he checked the IV bag. Hesitating briefly, Yoonjo cautiously continued.

“If I go to the hospital… how long would the tests take?”

“Not long at all! A day should do it, yes, just a day!”

“Oh…”

“Are you thinking about coming to the hospital?”

His mouth went dry. Yoonjo nodded slightly, glancing at Dr. Choi. His anxious gaze wandered. Pressing his chest, he asked carefully.

“It keeps… burning here…”

“You’ve got symptoms of a stomach ulcer. A thorough examination might take two or three days…”

It was the answer he’d longed for. His life’s last chance rested in Dr. Choi’s hands. His eyes, filled with worry and concern, met Yoonjo’s sunken gaze.

“Have you told the boss?”

“No… not yet…”

“Then I’ll speak to the boss about it.”

Dr. Choi’s face lit up genuinely. He was sincerely concerned about Yoonjo’s condition.

Yoonjo hadn’t reacted to being told his health was poor. For him to bring up tests first was a joy. Beaming, Dr. Choi held Yoonjo’s hands.

“You made the right choice. Truly.”

“…”

“I’ll arrange a date as soon as possible. These things are best done when you’ve made up your mind.”

Thump. Thump. His heart beat. Proof he was alive.

“…Okay.”

He was alive. No, it was time to live. The moment to escape Won Kangho’s glass garden and soar outside was approaching. Dr. Choi’s grip tightened.

As soon as Dr. Choi left, Yoonjo washed thoroughly and, for the first time in ages, pulled out clothes for going out. Opening the front door, he saw the guards as expected. They followed him as naturally as ever.

When would he get used to the eyes watching him? The heavy footsteps trailing him felt like they were pressing down on his shoulders.

Late summer had passed, and autumn was approaching. The sun shining on the rooftop was painfully bright.

Yoonjo was weak to heat, but he had to wear long clothes to cover Won Kangho’s marks.

Just before opening the glass garden door, Yoonjo took a deep breath to steady himself. Won Kangho wouldn’t come up at this hour. What happened last time wouldn’t repeat. He tried to pull himself out of painful memories.

He stood still for a moment. Slowly opening his eyes, he took in the scenery beyond the glass door. His hand trembled slightly as it turned the knob.

The familiar scent that hit him as he opened the door soothed his mind. His exhaled breath was calm. His tense body seemed to relax a little.

Like at the penthouse entrance, the guards stood watch outside the garden. Only inside did Yoonjo finally feel alone.

At least here, he was free. The garden was the only place that gave him a reprieve from his hellish life.

True to the claim that a gardener visited daily, the flowers and trees bore the touch of care. Not a dead leaf was in sight; everything was vibrant and fresh.

“It’s nice.”

For the first time in a long while, Yoonjo’s lips curved upward. The word “nice” slipped out sincerely. At least here, he didn’t have to feel Won Kangho’s pheromones.

The pheromones that leaked anxiously could be released freely here. The garden’s floral scent masked his own, which was similar.

Glancing at the door, Yoonjo set down what he was holding on the table. The tumbler the helper had prepared contained a liquid diet.

Since collapsing from the ulcer, Yoonjo’s meals had changed entirely. Spicy foods were gone, replaced by easily digestible, non-irritating options.

He slowly swallowed the grainy liquid. While sipping, his gaze was drawn to a cigarette pack on the table.

His hesitating hand set down the tumbler and picked up the rectangular pack. The half-full pack carried the distinct smell of dry grass.

Won Kangho was a bad person in many ways. The man who darkened Yoonjo’s world had even taught him to smoke.

After sex, Won Kangho always lit a cigarette, sucking the filter until his cheeks hollowed and exhaling white smoke.

“Suck it.”

Sometimes, he’d bring the cigarette to Yoonjo’s lips. In those moments, Yoonjo couldn’t lift his head and had to suck on the tip pressed against his mouth.

He put the white stick in his mouth and lit the lighter. Bringing the blue flame to the end, it wouldn’t catch easily.

A childhood memory surfaced. Standing by his smoker father, nagging him. How did Dad smoke? He recalled that day.

Sucking the filter, he tried lighting it again. Unlike before, a red ember caught, shortening the cigarette.

“Sigh…”

The exhaled smoke was ashen. A coughing fit followed, tears welling in his eyes. His head spun, and a revolting sensation churned his chest.

It was a different kind of disgust from when his body was ravaged. The liquid diet he’d just swallowed threatened to come back up.

Rubbing his forehead against the table, he regretted recalling the past, his mood plummeting.

“Why do you smoke something that’s bad for you? Mom hates it too.”

His young voice echoed in his ears. He closed his eyes tightly.

“You smoke knowing it’s bad. There’s no better escape, huh? But don’t you start, son. It’d break my heart.”

“Why can you smoke, but I can’t?”

“Because our Yoonjo will have a life full of good things, no need for this. I’ll make sure of it. Just study hard, okay?”

“Tch…”

He covered his ears with both hands. The voice ringing in his head wouldn’t fade.

“Study hard, live healthy, and have a good life. That’s filial piety.”

“Liar…”

The good mood from moments ago sank instantly. It felt like a heavy weight dragged his body and mind downward.

The cigarette, barely smoked, slowly burned down. With trembling hands, he put the filter back in his mouth. Unlike before, he didn’t cough.

Sigh. A tear fell from the corner of Yoonjo’s eye as he exhaled smoke. It hit the ground and vanished. The acrid smoke disappeared only after burning the filter.

Yoonjo returned to the penthouse as the sunset faded. He didn’t forget to wash thoroughly from head to toe, taking longer than usual in case the cigarette smell lingered.

As always, he put on pajamas and sat by the living room’s glass window, staring blankly at the outside world. The black dog, as expected, sat beside him.

“Young master, the boss is here.”

The helper approached to announce Won Kangho’s arrival. As usual, Yoonjo didn’t turn, keeping his emotionless gaze fixed outside.

He never greeted Won Kangho or acknowledged his arrival. Doing so would make him feel truly like a dog. One dog in this house was enough.

The sound of Won Kangho entering echoed. His reflection appeared in the glass, but Yoonjo didn’t move.

This was his usual self. There was no need to act differently and raise suspicion. Not in front of that man.

Won Kangho approached him directly. The hands that lifted him into an embrace were almost tender.

“Did you throw up again?”

“…No.”

“Good boy.”

The unpredictable man was terrifying. As always, Yoonjo struggled briefly before letting his body go limp, hoping only to reach the dining room quickly.

“Go next week.”

While quietly eating, the sudden words halted Yoonjo’s stirring of his porridge. Glancing up, he saw Won Kangho wasn’t looking at him.

Rinsing his mouth with water, Won Kangho met his gaze. The eyes were impossibly dark and deep.

“To the hospital. Go.”

“…Oh.”

So that’s what he meant. Realizing belatedly, Yoonjo carefully set down the spoon he’d been gripping. Won Kangho’s piercing gaze poured over him as he swallowed water.

He hadn’t expected permission to come so easily. Should he be happy about this?

“What’s that? You don’t want to go?”

As if reading his thoughts, Won Kangho asked with a sharp tone. Yoonjo quietly shook his head.

“…No.”

“Your face says otherwise.”

Instead of responding, Yoonjo silently scooped a spoonful of porridge and put it in his mouth. Won Kangho didn’t add anything more as Yoonjo continued eating.

Maybe things would work out better than expected. The heart of someone imagining a future pounded with anticipation. His sweaty palms were clammy.

The daily routine felt strangely peaceful, almost like the calm before a storm.

For some reason, Won Kangho stopped touching Yoonjo. He didn’t force himself on him or hurl hurtful words. After eating dinner together, he would leave the house immediately.

Should he be glad that Won Kangho was losing interest in him, or should he be afraid? The uncertainty made him even more anxious.

The stress manifested physically. Visiting the glass garden as usual, Yoonjo felt his body growing heavy and limp.

His body was unusually weighed down. Every part of him ached, and his wrist, now covered with a large adhesive bandage instead of gauze, throbbed.

“Sigh…”

Choosing a bench instead of his usual chair, Yoonjo lay on his side, exhaling shallow, inexplicable breaths.

Tomorrow was the day. The day to go to the hospital. The day to escape this glass garden.

It was just nerves, Yoonjo told himself firmly.

But contrary to his thoughts, even the fresh scent of grass and flowers didn’t improve his condition. He thought lying down would help, but it didn’t.

After lying there for a while, Yoonjo groaned as he struggled to sit up. Sudden dizziness nearly made him collapse, but he managed to steady himself.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m, I’m fine…”

When he finally reached the entrance, the guards asked with concern. Yoonjo curled in on himself, avoiding their gazes. His trembling voice betrayed him.

Entering the bedroom, Yoonjo’s state was far from good, even by generous standards. His face was flushed, and his sweat-soaked hair clung to his forehead.

Was he running a fever? His mind was foggy. Leaning his head against the wall, Yoonjo closed his eyes tightly. Harsh, ragged breaths escaped his red lips.

He didn’t even have the strength to touch his forehead. Unable to move a finger, his limp body sagged as a single thought crossed his mind. His drooping eyelids slowly lifted.

No, it couldn’t be. Panic spread across Yoonjo’s face.

When was the last time he took suppressants? He hadn’t taken any since being brought here. Realizing this, his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

His recessive constitution meant even his heat cycles were irregular. He had to take suppressants daily, like vitamins.

It had been over a month since he came here, which meant it had been that long since he last took suppressants. His already pale face turned ghostly white, almost blue.

“No, no way. No way…!”

The symptoms of a heat cycle he’d only read about online matched his current state. Yoonjo had never experienced a proper heat cycle, always managing it with medication.

The fever enveloping his body, the dizziness, the intense desire boiling in his core, and the ragged breaths—all were unmistakable signs of an impending heat cycle. His movements toward the bathroom were frantic.

His heart raced wildly, and his dilated pupils refused to contract. His trembling hands checked the locked bathroom door with a convulsive shake.

Without undressing, Yoonjo climbed into the bathtub. Turning the lever, he let cold water pour out. The icy water slowly swallowed his body.

“It’s not. It’s not… It’s not true. It can’t be.”

His muttered self-assurances were filled with deep-seated fear. The bone-chilling water failed to convey any sense of coldness to Yoonjo.

It was all Won Kangho’s fault. That man, who hadn’t given him suppressants and poured pheromones on him daily, was to blame.

There was only one way to push away the bone-melting fear: blame someone else. It couldn’t be his fault. He didn’t want to be consumed by guilt.

He couldn’t breathe. Though nothing was strangling him, his breaths grew short, as if someone were choking him. His frail hands clutched his throat.

“Haa, sob… Hic, ugh…”

The water rose quickly, covering his feet, waist, stomach, and soon his chest, cooling his burning body. As if scripted, his body began displaying the reactions of a heat cycle one by one.

Something other than water wet his lower body, and heat pooled in his abdomen. His breaths grew hot, and his vision seemed to tinge red.

“Haa, haa…”

His hands gripping his throat turned white. Tears streaming from his eyes mixed with the water filling the tub. The ragged breaths of the struggling figure blended with the water.

Unable to endure the heat, Yoonjo let his body go limp and submerged completely. Silence enveloped him as the water surrounded his fevered body. The hands clutching his throat loosened.

I’ll live. Relief was the first thing he felt. The cold water gently embraced him.

Just a little more, just a bit longer. Like someone who had bitten into the forbidden fruit, his thirst grew.

Forgetting he wasn’t breathing, Yoonjo clenched his fists. Nothing was within his grasp.

The heat began to fade. His mind softened, and his insides calmed. No sound reached him; only silence and stillness brought peace.

It felt like relief was coming. He wanted to feel at ease. Desire and longing kept pulling at him. His consciousness grew hazy. Then, someone yanked him by the collar.

“Guh, cough…!”

Air flooded his lungs. A violent coughing fit tore at his throat.

“Lee Yoonjo.”

The moment he grabbed at whatever held him, the coughing stopped. His eyelids lifted, and his dilated pupils looked up.

Won Kangho. Once again, it was he who dragged Yoonjo back to hell.

“You’re really trying to die, aren’t you?”

Haa, haa. Ragged breaths answered for him. The hand gripping his collar was hot and firm. The dark terror he’d briefly escaped enveloped him again. His face, clutching the man’s hand, turned white.

That hand had once struck his cheek. Another time, it had swung a belt. The pain of those moments replayed, pushing Yoonjo to the edge.

To Yoonjo, Won Kangho’s hands were instruments of pain. The moment they tightened, his breath would stop.

The cruel, horrific thought that he might actually die today filled his mind. His breathing, which had briefly steadied, grew ragged again.

Won Kangho’s face, colder than the water in the tub, stared at him. As the man tightened his grip, Yoonjo’s fragile body was yanked forward.

“Answer me. Are you doing this because you want to die?”

“Ugh…”

The terrified figure couldn’t respond. Only sobbing sounds came out. The man let out a hollow breath.

“You should’ve just said you wanted me to kill you.”

His dark eyes were filled with terror.

“I’ll tear you apart.”

Pulled out of the water, Yoonjo’s body quickly regained its heat. The full heat cycle consumed the omega. Unthinkable thoughts flooded his mind chaotically. Clenching his fists as if to hold onto reason, Yoonjo fought.

He wanted to be held by the man. To wrap his arms around his neck, rub against him, kiss him, and mix their breaths. And…

“Guh…”

He wanted to beg to be filled.

Thoughts and desires he didn’t want, shouldn’t have, bloomed recklessly, filling his mind.

A heat cycle was the complete manifestation of an omega’s instincts. It was a moment of raw, animalistic behavior, shameful even to those closest, the beast within laid bare.

“What’s this?”

The man sniffed, his sharp lips curling upward.

“In heat, huh?”

The mocking words didn’t wound Yoonjo. Fighting the instinctive, ugly thoughts overwhelming him was already too much.

Blue pheromones enveloped the flushed omega’s body. Teasingly, Won Kangho fully released his pheromones. The heat surged, and instinct overpowered reason, running wild.

His hands tightened. Grasping the man’s firm wrist, Yoonjo let out ragged breaths. His eyes, lips, and cheeks were all flushed red.

“Smell that, damn…”

The hand pulled away. Won Kangho lightly lifted Yoonjo, who was sinking back into the water. The sound of dripping water mixed with hot breaths. Water trailed their path like footprints.

“Put, put me down… Ugh…”

“You’d better shut up.”

“Ugh…”

“The boss is pretty pissed off right now.”

Thrown onto the bed, Yoonjo gasped raggedly, struggling to hold onto his senses. He gripped the sheets tightly. His small mind didn’t seem to grasp that escape was futile on this bed.

Won Kangho left him alone briefly, pulling out his phone from his jacket pocket to make a call.

“Stay away from the house and don’t contact me until tomorrow. Handle urgent matters yourself.”

Boss? Manager Jeong’s confused voice followed, but Won Kangho hung up ruthlessly. The rectangular device clattered to the floor. The one-sided call ended abruptly.

As Yoonjo gripped the headboard to pull himself up, Won Kangho strode over and yanked his ankle.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Please, don’t, ugh… Don’t, please…!”

“You think I’d listen to a brat in heat?”

The soaked fabric was torn off by Won Kangho. In an instant, Yoonjo’s naked body was dotted with feverish flush marks.

The glistening wet skin was fully captured in Won Kangho’s gaze. Climbing atop him, the man brought Yoonjo’s foot to his lips.

“Ugh, ha…! No, don’t…”

The man’s eyes gleamed darkly as he took the struggling toes into his mouth. His red tongue licked every inch of the foot.

Yoonjo’s hypersensitive body amplified every sensation. Each time the hot, wet tongue grazed between his toes, sharp moans burst out.

“Ah, please, ugh… Let go, please…”

“Baby, Yoonjo.”

The chillingly low voice rang in his ears. Tear-soaked eyes turned to the beast above him. The man deliberately licked the arch of his foot with his tongue.

“You should be pickier about who you go into heat for.”

Something sinister crawled over his skin.

“You want to go into heat for a bastard like me?”

The licking moved upward, from ankle to calf, leaving marks on the tender inner thigh. The man’s tongue flicked at the erect tip.

“Haa…!”

A large hand gently rubbed his member. Won Kangho’s gaze, now at chest level, was overwhelmingly intense. His red, wet tongue grazed the protruding nipple, which hardened like a pomegranate seed, asserting its presence.

“Say it. Are you in heat for me?”

“Ugh, no, ha…!”

Sharp teeth bit down on the erect nipple. His head, looking down in disbelief, snapped upward. His exposed neck gleamed white.

Both of Yoonjo’s struggling hands were seized by one large hand, pinned above his head. The other hand moved down to grip the member pressed against his abdomen.

“Can’t your mouth up here talk?”

Every touch was like a lightning strike. With his hands bound, Yoonjo could only jerk his upper body.

Clear liquid dripped from the pink tip. Won Kangho toyed with it, roughly handling the member in his grip.

His thumb grazed the glans, slipping repeatedly on the slick fluid. The excruciatingly vivid sensation kept Yoonjo’s mouth agape.

“Oh, our Yoonjo prefers it in the back, doesn’t he?”

“No… Don’t…!”

“Want me to stop touching your dick and fill your hole instead? I’ll take care of it, so don’t whine.”

The hand on his front slid to the back. The hole between his cheeks was soaked with Yoonjo’s own fluids.

A wet sound lingered in his ears. Won Kangho, rubbing around it, thrust two fingers in without hesitation.

“Ugh…!”

“Look at you, dripping wet. It’s a damn flood.”

His tense buttocks clenched, naturally gripping the man’s fingers. His overstimulated mind couldn’t think. Thick saliva he couldn’t swallow dribbled from his lips.

The squelching sound was obscene. Won Kangho kept his eyes on Yoonjo’s face while fingering him, his gaze relentless, as if to capture everything.

The hole easily took two fingers. Adding a third didn’t hurt or tear. The heated passage enveloped the man’s thick fingers. Won Kangho liked the soft, pliable inner walls.

When the report came that Lee Yoonjo was acting strangely, Won Kangho turned back without hesitation. Leaving him alone these past few days had been for this moment.

A leash must be tightened slowly. Tighten it too quickly, and the prey might bolt in fear. Like a frog in a pot, unaware it’s being boiled, Won Kangho was gradually tightening Yoonjo’s leash.

“Lee Yoonjo.”

“Ugh, ah, uhh…!”

The fingers thrusting inside quickened. The inner walls had long softened, pliable enough to take him fully.

“I had my doubts, but it’s really a heat.”

Lately, Lee Yoonjo’s pheromones had been erratic. His recessive nature made pheromone control difficult, but this was like he was advertising to be taken.

Stupid brat. Though he cursed in his mind, his lips wouldn’t stop curling. The thrill of finally having this omega in his grasp filled him with euphoria.

He wanted to chew him up and swallow him whole. Possessiveness surged, urging him to keep Yoonjo bound to him by any means.

“Speak.”

“Ugh…”

Foreheads pressed together, Won Kangho demanded. Tear-filled amber eyes met his.

“You’ve got something to say. Whatever’s in your head right now.”

“…”

“Say it.”

Yoonjo bit his bloodied lips again. Blood from the torn wound clung to his tongue. The relentless stimulation made his mouth want to open. His lips trembled. He couldn’t say that.

“Baby.”

The voice calling him was almost sweet.

“One word, and it’s done. Won’t you say it?”

“Ugh…”

“I’m saying I’ll listen.”

Right? The questioning tone made Yoonjo close his eyes tightly.

Like a snake urging him to bite the forbidden fruit, he couldn’t give in. He couldn’t say that.

The hand binding his wrists released. Stroking his hair, it pulled the lips crushed under white teeth.

A wave of alpha pheromones filled the air. The hands clinging to reason slowly lost strength.

Say it. Those dark, night-sky eyes seemed to demand. Haa, a heavy breath burst out, sounding like the release of reason. Only instinct and nature remained.

The man before him no longer mattered. Yoonjo only wanted his desires fulfilled. He could think of nothing else.

A trembling hand reached out. The voice of the one who finally surrendered was soaked with moisture.

“Do, do it…”

“Speak clearly.”

A fragile arm wrapped around the man’s neck. Instinct, overpowering reason, sought only desire. If breaths had color, Yoonjo’s would be red.

Willingly, the man let himself be pulled in. Clinging to him, Yoonjo let out a voice like a sob.

“Put, put it in, ugh…”

Words he never wanted to say. Yoonjo bit into the forbidden fruit.

“Put it in, please…”

It slid down his throat.

The man’s lips twisted. Licking Yoonjo’s earlobe slowly, he exhaled a damp breath.

The hand teasing his rear withdrew. Won Kangho nibbled his earlobe, unbuckling his belt. Something menacing sprang free from his briefs.

The thick glans touched the soaked hole, pushing into the quivering opening. The passage stretched tautly, without a wrinkle.

“Ah, ugh…!”

The perfectly pressed jacket crumpled under Yoonjo’s hands. Though ready for an alpha, the man’s size was overwhelmingly large and ferocious.

The member pushed through, parting the inner walls to places untouched by hands. Soft flesh clung to it, preventing escape.

Yoonjo’s head tilted back with the thrusting that pounded his insides. His sweat-soaked body, no longer wet with water, carried the scent of flowers.

The neck, where pheromones were strongest, had sharp teeth buried in it. Won Kangho relentlessly thrust himself in, and Yoonjo felt his lower abdomen swell with the illusion.