Come Looking for Flowers Chapter 7.2 - Moonlight

“It’s okay.”

“I’m relieved… Honestly, I’ve been worried all this time. After all, the CEO is kind of a scary person.”

“…….”

“Let’s go inside. You’ll catch a cold.”

Instead of replying, Yoonjo quietly hugged the scarf to his chest. Haa, his exhaled breath was particularly white.

Days spent without the man were no different from usual. He still fell asleep and woke up at irregular hours, ate meals, took medicine, and passed each day as it came.

One day, two days. The peaceful days didn’t last long. On the third day since Won Kangho stopped coming home, Yoonjo began waking up somewhere other than his bed.

“Haa…”

Here we go again. A deep sigh escaped at the sight of the scene before him. The man’s shirt he was wearing—when had he even put it on?—had sleeves far too long. Every time he curled up, the clothes strewn beneath him crumpled haphazardly.

He didn’t know why this started—whether it was a new sleep habit or sleepwalking—but lately, it had been leading Yoonjo to the man’s dressing room. He would pull out every piece of clothing, spread them across the floor, wrap himself in the man’s clothes, and fall asleep only to wake up like this.

Yoonjo staggered to his feet, and the neatly pressed shirts and jackets beneath him were now hideously wrinkled. His face, looking at them, was filled with distress.

“Um…”

Hesitantly stepping out of the room, Yoonjo cautiously called for the housekeeper. The housekeeper, bustling around the house, spotted him and broke into a wide smile.

“Mr. Yoonjo! You’re awake?”

“Yes, but, um…”

“Is there something you need?”

“…I’m sorry. The dressing room—I messed it up again.”

“Oh.”

The surprised expression lasted only a moment. As always, the housekeeper gave a bright smile and playfully wrinkled the bridge of her nose.

“It’s okay. Just leave it, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Still… I feel bad for causing trouble…”

“Oh, come on, I said it’s fine. Don’t worry about it and go wash up. You need to eat.”

Despite the repeated incidents, the housekeeper could have been annoyed but instead kept smiling. There was no trace of pretense in her expression. Seeing her like this only made Yoonjo feel more uneasy.

Unable to resist her urging, Yoonjo headed to the bathroom. Even after washing up and eating, he couldn’t hide his apologetic demeanor. Watching him act like a guilty puppy, the housekeeper, unable to stand it any longer, pushed him out of the house.

“It looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind, Mr. Yoonjo. Why don’t you take a walk in the garden? I’ve made some hot chocolate for you to drink.”

“No, I—”

“Have a good rest out there!”

The housekeeper sent Yoonjo out the front door with a cheerful smile and quickly shut it. Ting-a-ling, the sound of the door locking was unnecessarily crisp.

Yoonjo stood there dazed, staring down at the tumbler in his hand. The unexpected walk felt disorienting.

A walk, all of a sudden. Even as he thought this, his feet naturally carried him toward the garden. Walking alone on a path where someone was usually by his side felt strange.

When he opened the glass door to the garden, the scent of flowers rushed out to greet him, as always. Following the fragrant aroma, Yoonjo took slow steps, making a large loop around the garden.

After walking and resting repeatedly, his legs began to tremble. His stamina had improved somewhat, but it was still lacking. He tapped his aching legs after just a short walk.

Yoonjo’s mind was filled with images of the ruined dressing room. Thinking of the housekeeper organizing those crumpled clothes one by one made his guilt linger. Haa, his exhaled sigh was heavy.

He had no idea why these symptoms were happening. If he at least knew the reason, he could try to do something about it. He’d even tried tying his hands to the bed’s headboard to sleep, but it was useless.

“Excuse me.”

He was staring blankly at his knees when a sudden unfamiliar voice startled him, his body stiffening. His frightened eyes turned toward the sound.

A man in a pitch-black suit stood nearby, unnoticed until now. He held out a shopping bag to Yoonjo.

“The CEO sent this.”

“…What is it?”

“He said you’d know once you looked.”

The man left without adding anything further.

What did he send? Only after being completely alone did Yoonjo take the item out of the shopping bag. The box inside was neither too light nor too heavy.

Placing the box on his lap, he slowly opened the lid. A familiar, refreshing pheromone instantly flooded his senses.

Inside was a blanket. A blanket soaked with the man’s pheromones.

On top of it was a note. The haphazard handwriting resembled its owner.

[Gift]

“…Unbelievable.”

Why is he doing this to me?

Yoonjo couldn’t accept the man’s kindness as kindness. Every action of the man felt suspicious, and any deviation from his usual behavior left Yoonjo unable to hide his confusion. Already disoriented, this absurd gesture left him at a loss for how to react, so he just stared.

In the end, Yoonjo didn’t touch the blanket. Suppressing the urge to bury his face in it, he closed the box.

He deliberately pushed the blanket’s existence out of his mind. Whenever his gaze drifted toward it, he consciously thought of something else to forget it.

The day passed as usual. At the end of it, as Yoonjo shook out his wet hair, his phone rang. The unfamiliar ringtone came from the phone the man had forced on him. There was only one person who would call.

— Did you like the gift?

The man’s voice came through as soon as Yoonjo answered, laced with amusement.

Instead of replying, Yoonjo silently stared at the box placed in a corner of the bedroom. The pheromones were so potent that their scent seeped through the box’s cracks.

— You’re quiet. Guess you didn’t like it.

“…There are plenty of blankets here.”

After a long pause, his response was a small complaint. He couldn’t affirm or deny the man’s question.

The moment he smelled the pheromones on the blanket, Yoonjo felt the things tormenting him vanish in an instant. That was an undeniable fact.

But he didn’t want to admit it. More accurately, he didn’t want to show himself happily accepting the man’s kindness. That’s why he complained.

— Sure, there are. But none with my pheromones, right? Even if there were, they’d have faded by now.

“…….”

— You need it, don’t you?

Even without a subject, Yoonjo knew what the man meant. It was something Yoonjo had been avoiding, yet it was an undeniable reality.

Water dripped from his wet hair. His shoulders were damp, but Yoonjo sat still, only moving the hand holding the phone. These calls with the man were uncomfortable.

— Don’t you miss the CEO?

“…Don’t ask me that.”

— Why? That’s uncomfortable too?

“Yes.”

— Ouch, that stings.

What was the man thinking, saying he was hurt in a voice that sounded anything but? Yoonjo forcibly suppressed old memories that kept trying to surface.

He didn’t want to waver. He couldn’t afford to. No matter that the man was his first love—he was the one who ruined Yoonjo’s life. A person he couldn’t forgive, shouldn’t forgive. That was Won Kangho.

— Well, I’d better not say that. If I heard it, I’d probably head straight to Seoul.

The sound of a Zippo lighter opening was clear through the man’s voice. Chik, even the sound of the cigarette tip igniting.

— It’ll take a few more days. Hold off on missing the CEO. Take your medicine and eat well.

As if I need to be told. The man’s attitude, treating him like a child, made Yoonjo’s lips purse tightly. He pulled the box closer and fiddled with its edge.

Carefully, he opened it. The blanket lay there, just as he’d seen before. The blue pheromones clinging to it caught his eye.

— You should answer.

“…I’ll handle it myself.”

— Yeah?

The soft fabric brushed against his palm. As if he’d never hesitated to touch it, Yoonjo gently stroked the blanket filled with the man’s scent.

— Guess I’ll need to check. To see if you’ve been good or not.

Was he smoking? His pronunciation was slightly slurred. The sound of the man inhaling deeply and exhaling tickled Yoonjo’s ear, feeling like breath on his cheek.

Even until the call ended, Yoonjo didn’t give the response the man wanted. The same went for the goodnight greeting.

The phone screen went dark after the call ended. Yoonjo couldn’t let go of the phone for a long while. The man’s voice lingered in his palm, weighing down his shoulders, rendering him unable to move.

‘Sleep well, see you soon.’

The sweet, whispering voice was impossibly tender. It was warm enough to almost make Yoonjo mistake the man for someone kind.

“…No.”

He couldn’t fall for it. The sweet words whispered by that silver tongue were only meant to put him at ease. Who knew when the man might turn and pour out harsh words and pain? Knowing that and still falling for it would be foolish.

He had to steel himself. This was all just emotional manipulation. It was just confusion, and with time, he’d be able to ignore these stirrings, he reassured himself.

But he soon realized all those thoughts were futile.

The man began sending blankets and clothes almost daily. Everything sent through his subordinates was drenched in pheromones.

Despite vowing not to care, Yoonjo woke up each morning clutching a blanket soaked in Won Kangho’s pheromones. And from the day the man started sending them, Yoonjo stopped waking up in the dressing room.

“The dressing room was clean today, wasn’t it?”

The housekeeper, bringing warm tea, spoke with a smile. Yoonjo’s hand, which had been petting the dog, froze.

“Your face looks better too. The medicine must be working!”

“…….”

“They say bitter medicine is good for the body. It feels like all that effort paid off, doesn’t it?”

Yoonjo’s lips didn’t open to respond. He resumed moving his hand, gently rubbing the dog’s forehead. He didn’t bother saying it wasn’t the medicine.

It wasn’t as effective as when the man directly released pheromones, but there was definite improvement. The sleepwalking-like episodes in the dressing room stopped, and the occasional headaches and chills gradually faded.

It was all thanks to the blankets and clothes the man sent. More precisely, thanks to his pheromones clinging to them.

“Don’t you miss the CEO?”

“Cough…!”

Yoonjo choked on his tea, coughing harshly. His face flushed, and tears welled in his eyes.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you…!”

The housekeeper hurriedly brought tissues, looking apologetic as she took the teacup. Yoonjo shook his head slightly, clutching his sore throat.

He finally caught his breath after sipping lukewarm water the housekeeper brought. He roughly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Clearing his throat stung.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine, I’m fine.”

To reassure the flustered housekeeper, Yoonjo responded that he was okay, unable to even compose his flushed face. The housekeeper’s eyes drooped sadly.

He knew the question held no ill intent, but its content was so startling he couldn’t help but react. Ignoring the housekeeper’s pitiful gaze, Yoonjo took a sip of the now-cold tea.

“Um, there’s something I’ve been curious about for a while.”

His gaze, turning as if to ask what, was gentle. The housekeeper gave a shy smile, fidgeting with the teacup.

“How did you meet the CEO?”

“…Why ask that all of a sudden?”

“Just, I’ve always wondered. The CEO seems to care for you a lot, Mr. Yoonjo. I was curious about your first meeting.”

First meeting. Without even digging through memories, the scene that came to mind was simply innocent and warm. Yoonjo’s eyes darkened as he recalled that day.

If his father’s business hadn’t faltered back then, or if the person his father borrowed money from hadn’t been that man, would they have had a different ending?

The word “if” was useless to dwell on now, but Yoonjo chewed on it repeatedly. He resented the man who ruined what could have been a cherished past, and he felt pathetic for choosing to stay by the man’s side despite all the pain.

“We were just neighbors. Living next door.”

That’s where it should have ended, but how did we end up like this?

Knowing it couldn’t be undone, Yoonjo lingered on those past days. His body grew heavy, as if crushed by something. The hand holding the teacup turned white.

It was the same morning as always. Yoonjo woke with the man’s clothes and blanket in his arms, and the pouring sunlight brightly lit the room.

Lying still, Yoonjo opened his eyes and stared blankly out the window. Then, a sudden commotion turned his head toward the door.

The sound of bustling footsteps wasn’t from one person. Yoonjo quietly got up and left the bed.

Opening the door made the sounds clearer. Without leaving the room, Yoonjo gazed toward the source. The housekeeper, passing by, approached him.

“You’re up early. It’s a bit noisy, isn’t it?”

“What’s going on?”

“Well, it’s not exactly something going on…”

The housekeeper hesitated briefly before giving an awkward smile and shaking her head slightly.

“Just some things to tidy up. If you’re not going back to sleep, go wash up. I’ll prepare breakfast.”

She seemed to have something to say but was holding back. Yoonjo nodded slightly but couldn’t shake his doubts.

The penthouse was only frequented by the man, the housekeeper, and occasionally Manager Jung. Others rarely came inside unless it was a special case.

Was something wrong? Especially since the man hadn’t contacted him in days, Yoonjo was already on edge.

Instead of pressing the housekeeper, Yoonjo turned back to his room. He figured she’d tell him when the time came.

“Mr. Yoonjo, you need to eat and get ready to go out.”

“Me?”

He had just swallowed a foul-smelling pill when the sudden mention of going out made him ask in surprise. The housekeeper quickly offered a bowl of candy and continued.

“There’s some business, so we need to leave this place. Apparently, there’s a villa in a place with good air. Manager Jung will come soon, and you’ll move together.”

“What kind of business…”

“I don’t know the details.”

Whether she truly didn’t know or was pretending not to, the housekeeper offered no further explanation.

Soon after, Manager Jung arrived, briefly visited a room filled with unfamiliar men, then approached Yoonjo. His usual polite smile was directed at the housekeeper, not Yoonjo.

“Is the luggage all packed?”

“Mostly. I feel like I forgot something, but I’m not sure what.”

“Let’s move for now. I’ll take care of the rest and bring it later.”

For some reason, Manager Jung seemed in a hurry. He checked the time multiple times during their short conversation, as if being chased.

“Um…”

“Yes, Mr. Lee Yoonjo.”

His gaze turned a beat slower than his response. As always, Manager Jung faced Yoonjo with a warm smile. But Yoonjo, looking at him, didn’t smile.

“Uh… What about the CEO?”

“The CEO is handling business in the provinces. He’s busy, so I came instead.”

“…….”

“Are you ready to go?”

As if reading a well-rehearsed script, Manager Jung’s words and actions felt both natural and unnatural. A worry crept up in Yoonjo.

But as always, Yoonjo lacked the courage or strength to question further. He simply nodded and followed.

At the underground parking lot, two cars waited side by side. Yoonjo got into the back seat of the car Manager Jung opened, while the housekeeper headed to the other car.

“May I ask why we’re suddenly going to a villa?”

As soon as Manager Jung settled into the passenger seat, Yoonjo let out the question he’d been holding. Fastening his seatbelt, Manager Jung met Yoonjo’s eyes through the rearview mirror. His voice was, as always, calm.

“There’s a slight problem at the CEO’s residence. To address that and for your recuperation, Mr. Lee Yoonjo, you’ll stay at a villa on the outskirts for a while. The environment will change, but the staff will remain the same, so you don’t need to worry too much.”

“A problem?”

“It’s nothing major. Shall we depart?”

“…Yes.”

His lips, about to ask more, closed tightly. “It’s nothing major” felt like saying it was none of his concern.

The car sped through the gray city. Inside, without even a radio playing, only the sound of Manager Jung flipping through documents filled the space. Yoonjo leaned against the seat, taking in the passing scenery.

On this long drive, Yoon Chaemin came to mind. Yoonjo hadn’t kept his promise to stay in touch. Unable to respond to check-ins or make plans to meet, he kept postponing.

The journey took hours. Yoonjo didn’t sleep, absorbing every passing scene. He listened to Manager Jung’s phone calls and saw his reflection in the window during tunnel stretches.

They arrived at a large wooden house nestled in the mountains. The car stopped smoothly, and Yoonjo stepped out through the door Manager Jung opened.

There was truly nothing around. The mansion was surrounded by trees, and the only road was the rough forest path the car had taken.

His brown eyes gradually clouded. It felt like exile. It wasn’t entirely wrong—climbing the mountain had taken so long that escaping alone seemed nearly impossible.

“Let’s go right inside. It’s a mountain, so the air is quite cold.”

Yoonjo obediently followed Manager Jung’s words, stepping forward. As he crossed the threshold of the open door, a scene different from the penthouse unfolded before him.

Unlike Seoul, which was modern and existed only in shades of black and white, this villa had a strong antique charm. Warmth gently seeped from the colors lingering in every corner, welcoming Yoonjo.

“You can use this room. We’ve prepared most of the things you might need, but if there’s anything else you require, please feel free to let us know anytime.”

Yes. His responding voice was soft. He didn’t know why a room equipped with everything felt so empty.

“I’ll head back to Seoul briefly to check on things. Please rest comfortably.”

Manager Jung left with a smile, and Yoonjo, now alone, stood there for a long while. His mind was filled with a single thought.

Why did the man send me to a place like this? And through Manager Jung, no less, instead of coming himself.

The man was incomprehensible. His thoughts were equally impossible to decipher. Whatever the issue was, Yoonjo could only wait for the man’s problem to be resolved and for the time to return to that place.

“That’s funny.”

A hollow laugh escaped Yoonjo as he reached the end of his thoughts. Absurdly, he was thinking about going back to that place.

Was he now considering it home? No, that wasn’t it.

Yoonjo needed Won Kangho. His broken body, unable to function in daily life without him, had grown accustomed to a life with the man. Hadn’t he been acting strangely just because the man was absent these past few days?

The time when he desperately tried to escape felt like a distant past. Yoonjo no longer had the strength or the reason to do so. If he had to live this life anyway, he wanted to live it with as little pain and hardship as possible.

There must be a reason the man sent him here. Yoonjo tightly hugged the blanket he hadn’t let go of since leaving the house. Burying his nose in it, he took a long breath.

It’s okay. Everything will be fine. He suppressed the anxiety rising uncontrollably. He buried his face deep into the blanket, as if to hide his crumpled expression.

“Mr. Yoonjo, do you like the room?”

The housekeeper’s face, appearing with a knock, didn’t look entirely excited. She observed Yoonjo’s complexion with slightly worried eyes.

Whether he liked it or not didn’t matter. His preferences wouldn’t change the fact that he had to stay here.

“I noticed the layout is a bit complicated. But the bathroom is similar to the one you’re used to, so it should be fine. This is my first time in such a big place, so it feels a bit unfamiliar.”

Instead of responding, Yoonjo stood up and took the items the housekeeper was holding. Even the roughly packed luggage was a hefty amount, making him wonder how long he was supposed to stay here.

Surely not forever. He wanted to ask but couldn’t. Even if he managed to, it didn’t seem like he’d get an answer, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be clear. It would probably be something vague, like what he’d heard from Manager Jung earlier.

As the night grew late, no call came from the man. Yoonjo mocked himself for waiting for it, but then, thinking of the pitch-black dawn approaching, he bit his lip hard.

While eating, wandering the mansion with the housekeeper to explore its interior, washing up, and even just before falling asleep, Yoonjo’s mind was entirely consumed with thoughts of the man. If the man had deliberately sent those blankets to achieve this, his plan had succeeded.

“If I do something weird, please stop me.”

The dog, which had leapt onto the bed, confidently claimed the spot next to Yoonjo. Stroking its head, Yoonjo made a request he knew it couldn’t fulfill.

For whatever reason, Won Kangho had even sent the dog to this villa. Anxiety surged to the brim, threatening to choke him. Fear swirled as if it would crush his breath.

Just in case, he locked the door, but there was no way to predict what his unconscious might do. The best Yoonjo could do was deal with the consequences when they happened.

He told me to stay by his side. But if he’s not here, what am I supposed to do? Yoonjo resented the man for a different reason now. He cursed him inwardly for not contacting or showing his face.

“Mr. Yoonjo, did you sleep well? It wasn’t too cold or hot, was it?”

“It was fine.”

Fortunately, the first day at the villa passed without incident. Waking up in his bedroom rather than somewhere else was enough to reassure Yoonjo. He had nightmares, of course, but at least he hadn’t caused trouble for anyone else.

“It really feels like the mountains. I went out earlier, and wow, it’s freezing. We should probably stay indoors today.”

“What about Leo’s walk?”

“Someone else will take care of that. Manager Jung said he’d be here soon too.”

“…Why is he coming?”

Why would Manager Jung come here? Unless it was a special case, he never left the man’s side. Why would he come all the way from Seoul? His questions grew larger.

“Well, that’s—”

The housekeeper, about to say something, abruptly closed her mouth. Glancing at Yoonjo, she gave an awkward smile and quietly stood up.

“Uh, I have some things to do in the kitchen. Please rest.”

The housekeeper was bad at lying. Her actions, revealing her nature, only amplified Yoonjo’s fear.

She definitely knew something but wasn’t telling him. What was it she was hiding? Why was she avoiding him like this? Countless painful scenarios swirled in his mind.

The daily calls and traces of the man delivered through his subordinates had stopped. Yoonjo hadn’t been told why, and even when he called, the man didn’t answer.

His lips, chewed to tatters, tasted of blood. As if sensing his unease, the dog followed him, whimpering and rolling its worried eyes.

Yoonjo sat quietly on the unfamiliar sofa, waiting for Manager Jung. With neither Won Kangho nor the housekeeper telling him anything, Manager Jung was his only hope.

Manager Jung arrived over two hours later. Appearing no different from usual, he spotted Yoonjo and gave a slight bow.

“Um…”

“Yes, Mr. Lee Yoonjo.”

Manager Jung, about to pass by, turned toward him. It took Yoonjo a long while to muster the courage to speak.

“…I haven’t been able to reach the CEO. Is he very busy?”

Asking even one question was this hard. Yoonjo stammered, barely finishing his words.

Manager Jung stared at Yoonjo silently, his lips pressed shut. His gaze, as if probing the intent behind the question, was piercing. Under those sharp, bronze eyes, Yoonjo fidgeted with the hand hidden behind his back.

“He’s at the residence.”

The response, after a long pause, was brief and firm. It wasn’t the answer Yoonjo expected or wanted—it was vague.

At the residence likely meant the penthouse. But Manager Jung’s reply only raised more questions instead of resolving them.

“Do you have a message for the CEO?”

“No, it’s just… I was wondering if something’s wrong.”

A long silence followed. Unable to bear Manager Jung’s steady gaze, Yoonjo slightly lowered his head. A soft voice fell from above.

“It’ll be difficult to meet him for a while. Contacting him will be hard too.”

The hands resting quietly on his thighs tensed.

“You don’t need to worry too much.”

Yoonjo wasn’t worried about the man. He was worried about himself.

He had a strong feeling that life here wouldn’t be entirely smooth. Unlike the penthouse, there wasn’t a trace of the man’s pheromones here. In his current state, completely dependent on Won Kangho’s pheromones, Yoonjo didn’t know how long he could manage without them.

Would he be okay? His frightened heart began to race. He pressed his hand over it, trying to calm it, but the pounding only grew stronger. The anxiety inside him surged wildly.

And, as if proving Yoonjo’s fears correct, the strange symptoms began the very next day. It was the third day at the villa.

“Mr. Yoonjo!”

A sharp call jolted his eyes open. He wasn’t in his bedroom but an unfamiliar space. The air brushing his cheeks was chilly.

Swallowing a startled breath, he sank to the ground. Barefoot and in pajamas, he was standing on a balcony. A balcony from a second-floor room he’d never visited.

It was still predawn, the world shrouded in darkness. The sky beyond the trees was pitch black, as if smeared with ink.

What’s going on? His panicked eyes shook violently. Each breath he took and exhaled painted the dark world with a faint haze that quickly dissipated.

“What… what’s…”

His panicked mouth couldn’t finish the sentence. The housekeeper rushed over, checking his hands and face, visibly relieved.

“Why am I here…?”

After a brief hesitation, the housekeeper pressed her lips shut and pulled Yoonjo inside. His eyes, dragged inward, trembled with confusion.

He vaguely remembered dreaming something, but he couldn’t recall what. Fragmented dream pieces rolled around chaotically before vanishing completely.

‘Baby, Yoonjo.’

“Gasp…!”

A voice brushing his ear made him yank his hand free. The housekeeper’s face, turning to him, was filled with alarm. Only then did Yoonjo realize what he’d done.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Mr. Yoonjo.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Yoonjo covered his ears, repeating apologies endlessly, as if they were the only words he knew.

“It seems like pheromone overdependence syndrome.”

Having heard the situation, Manager Jung called Dr. Choi as soon as dawn broke. It was while Yoonjo was still deep in sleep.

Pheromone overdependence syndrome. The term, new to Yoonjo, described his condition. As the name implied, it was a disorder where excessive dependence on the pheromones of an imprinted partner manifested as physical symptoms like anxiety.

He knew his state wasn’t normal. The man might have known too. Perhaps that’s why he sent blankets and clothes soaked in pheromones daily. That’s what Yoonjo thought.

“With consistent medication, your condition will improve significantly. It’ll take time, though.”

“…….”

“As I always say, the most important thing in any treatment is the patient’s will to recover. No matter how much medicine you take, if you don’t show the desire to get better, the treatment is meaningless.”

Dr. Choi, as always, looked at Yoonjo with concern-filled eyes. Yoonjo didn’t meet his gaze. He silently stroked the head of the dog, which, as usual, occupied a spot on the bed.

His broken body had no part left unscathed. He already knew this, but facing it directly with his own eyes felt entirely different.

His decision to stay by Won Kangho’s side was partly due to this condition. He simply couldn’t live normally alone. Being with the man brought back painful memories, but the stability from his scent and pheromones was undeniably significant.

Even now, Yoonjo craved the man’s pheromones. The blanket, its scent faded, was now just a useless piece of cloth.

“Still, a certain amount of pheromones is necessary, but the situation…”

Were all the kindnesses the man showed after returning just an act? Were they a setup to cause this emotional pain?

The symptoms from pheromone overdependence syndrome were all products of the unconscious, so conscious effort wouldn’t improve them. Even with treatment, recovery wouldn’t come quickly.

Right. There’s no way he’d be that kind.

The man who acted tender and warm, as if the times he inflicted pain until near death were forgotten; the man whose voice seemed to carry affection; the generous Won Kangho, who acted like he’d grant any wish.

Despite vowing not to be fooled, Yoonjo had fallen for it. His broken, weakened body welcomed the man’s faint kindness like an oasis in a desert, eagerly accepting it. The result was devastating.

Plop, a tear fell, wetting his cheek. It hung on his chin before dropping, painfully hitting the back of his hand. The dog whimpered, licking Yoonjo’s hand.

After Dr. Choi left, Yoonjo reverted to his old self. He didn’t step out of the room, hiding under the covers.

Stupid. To be fooled again after all that, like a blind fool. Uncontrollable tears soaked the pillowcase. The dog’s whimpers and scratching at the door didn’t reach Yoonjo’s ears.

“I should have died.”

He should have just died. That day, when he returned to the man, he should have found a way to die. It shouldn’t have been brushed off. That missed opportunity led to this horrific outcome, didn’t it?

He couldn’t die alone. No matter how many times he tried, he’d be brought back to life. As always. Without the man’s help, ending his life with his own hands was impossible.

“Haa…”

Perhaps this was punishment for holding onto vain hopes. A price for coveting what he shouldn’t.

His body, heart, and thoughts—all felt like they were being sucked into a distant darkness.

Was the man watching him now? If so, what was he thinking? Laughing at how pathetic he was, mocking him for daring to hope? The imaginations born from past days sank Yoonjo deeper, lower.

He couldn’t even sleep. He feared falling asleep might lead to strange actions, startling others, causing trouble, or even harm. His inability to even sleep peacefully felt utterly horrific.

How much more must he be broken before the man was satisfied? How much crueler and more vicious must he become to release Yoonjo from his grasp? The more he thought, the greater his suffering grew, with no way to relieve it.

He dreamt of being loved. Won Kangho whispered endlessly sweet words, and the sex, filled only with pleasure, not pain, was tender and gentle.

It was definitely a dream. Something that could never happen in reality, so it had to be a dream.

It didn’t matter. Surrounded by cool pheromones, Yoonjo trembled helplessly beneath the man. The longed-for pheromones filled his lungs, bringing satisfaction.

‘Let me go, sob… Let me go, please…!’

He wanted to hold the man tightly, but his bound hands wouldn’t allow it. No matter how much he cried and pleaded, the man didn’t listen. He sank his teeth into Yoonjo’s nape, taking in his scent and taste as he pleased.

The more Yoonjo writhed, the stronger the grip holding him became. Without a word, the man ravaged Yoonjo’s insides, tasting every part of his body. His pitch-black eyes never left Yoonjo.

‘I want to hold you. I want to embrace you. This… sob… Let me go, please. Let me go…’

‘Baby.’

As tears burst forth, his breath hitched. He cried and pleaded, but the man remained unmoved. Calling him baby, Yoonjo, but neither freeing his hands nor releasing his body.

He wanted to be loved. Being loved felt good. His life had been filled with love. He wished someone, anyone, would love him.

It was all greed. Knowing this, humans still yearned, and Yoonjo wanted to yearn for him. It felt like the only way to survive.

The space, filled only with breaths and the sound of skin against skin, grew increasingly noisy. It sounded like voices, or perhaps screams. In that moment, everything before him vanished like smoke, including the man.

“Mr. Lee Yoonjo!”

Gasping sharply, he opened his eyes. The scene changed instantly. The man in the bedroom was gone, replaced by dense trees filling his vision.

“Oh no, what do we do…!”

“Mr. Lee Yoonjo, can you see me? Come to your senses!”

The housekeeper’s tearful voice and Manager Jung’s alarmed face pierced his senses one after another.

What happened? Yoonjo caught his breath with a blank expression. Blinking, tears that had pooled fell.

A ringing in his ears stabbed painfully. Hospital, car, emergency room, blood. Incomprehensible words brushed past his ears.

It’s too loud. He didn’t want to hear anything. Raising his hands to cover his ears, he felt his face was wet.

“…What’s this…?”

His hands were covered in blood. Stumbling back, his eyes shook with confusion. He couldn’t remember what had happened.

“Let’s go to the hospital.”

Looking down at his hands, Yoonjo noticed sharp glass shards at his feet. The bloodstains on them were grotesque.

Something was wrong. This wasn’t right. With falling tears, his voice spilled out.

“Manager Jung.”

His tearful call halted Manager Jung’s movements. His stiff face turned toward Yoonjo.

Looking down at his hands, Yoonjo slowly raised his head. Swallowing a trembling breath, he continued.

“Please take me to the CEO.”

“…What?”

“Please.”

Bright red blood dripped onto the floor, darkening the soil.

“Mr. Lee Yoonjo, that’s not important right now—your wound—”

“I’m begging you.”

“…….”

“I’ll do anything, so please… Please, let me see him.”

His bursting tears were sorrowful. Yoonjo, as always, cried silently, letting tears fall. Those around him watched in hushed silence.

He missed the man. No, if he couldn’t see him, he at least wanted his pheromones. Otherwise, he felt he might really die. He wanted to fix this broken body somehow.

“Mr. Lee Yoonjo.”

The voice, now calm, had lost its panic. Yoonjo closed and opened his wet eyes, pushing tears away. Manager Jung’s stern face came into clear view.

“Are you serious about what you just said?”

“…….”

“The CEO probably wouldn’t want that.”

He knew. He knew the man wouldn’t want it. Just being confined to this remote place made it clear. Especially with Manager Jung, his right-hand man, here too.

“I won’t regret it.”

He’d regretted enough. Sinking into the depths of darkness, he’d done it over and over. Now it was time to act on the conclusions those regrets had forged.

And in this moment, Yoonjo needed the man desperately. To live or to die.

After a moment’s hesitation, Manager Jung let out a deep sigh. Checking the time with a flick of his wrist, he glanced toward the car.

“We’ll take you to the hospital first.”

“The hospital isn’t—”

“Your wound is deep and needs treatment.”

“…….”

“Get treated, and it won’t be too late to go then.”

A man approached late, handing Manager Jung a cloth for bandaging. Manager Jung placed it in Yoonjo’s hand and led him toward the car. Blood flowed relentlessly from the sharp, long wound.