I wanted to praise him, to stroke his head and tell him he had done well, that he was comndable for swallowing his pride and finally apologizing. But for now, settling the situation took priority.
With a bright smile, Heemin handed a plate with a strawberry tart and a slice of cheesecake to Heeyoung.
"This isn't ant in a bad way at all, so please take this and let it go."
"Oh my, I'm really fine. Aren't you, Oppa?"
"Huh? Oh... yeah..."
As if she had no choice, Heeyoung accepted the plate, while Junyoung nodded reluctantly, his expression still tinged with doubt. However, he didn't seem to entertain thoughts like his personality has changed or another soul has taken over his body.
The Seo Heemin they knew feared male Alphas but was always kind to won and children. Since Heemin had acted exactly as Seo Heemin would in front of Heeyoung, she would no longer question whether he was the sa person.
"I actually wanted to eat this, so I'll enjoy it. Thank you, Heemin."
"Don't ntion it. Enjoy."
"Oppa, let's go order so drinks."
With no other choice, Junyoung grabbed his wallet and followed Heeyoung to the counter. His lingering, persistent gaze brushed against Heemin’s cheek, but Heemin ignored it and took his seat.
"Hah..."
He let out a long sigh and pulled his baseball cap over his head, its brim cutting off his view of everything except the man sitting across from him.
He's definitely mad.
One fire had been put out, but another still burned.
eting Iheon's piercing gaze, Heemin carefully opened his mouth.
"I'm sorry for speaking informally earlier. I couldn't help it—"
"Seo Heemin."
He had expected Iheon to explode with anger, for his rage to boil over. But contrary to those expectations, his voice was calm—so calm that it made Heemin even more nervous.
"You."
Iheon called his na once more before pausing. He swallowed, and in that brief silence, Heemin caught a flicker of confusion in his expression.
There's no way he's acting like this because of Do Heeyoung instead of Do Junyoung...
Had he gotten upset because Heemin gave away sothing he had bought without asking for permission? And to a female Alpha, of all people?
A vague unease settled in Heemin's stomach. His mouth went dry. Instead of answering, he silently asked with his eyes, What is it?
Iheon, his expression oddly cold, asked, "You said you're twenty-one."
"Yes. And?"
"And you're supposed to be college seniors with Deputy Director Do."
In Crimson Veil, Do Junyoung had fallen in love with Seo Heemin at first sight during his sophomore year after returning from studying abroad. He had audited Heemin's art classes under the pretense of wanting to learn how to paint, slowly closing the distance between them. Eventually, he beca close enough to be acknowledged by Seo Jae-han as a potential son-in-law.
He had been the only Alpha Heemin ever called "senior," the only one he'd kept in touch with even years after graduating, despite never opening up to Betas.
So of course, it was suspicious that Heemin hadn't recognized the younger sister of such a person.
Or maybe... maybe Iheon just wanted to find sothing to nitpick, to deny the idea that Heemin had dissociative identity disorder.
Heemin refused to get drawn into his gas. With a steady voice, he replied, "Not . The other Seo Heemin."
"The other Seo Heemin."
Iheon's voice dipped to an unnaturally low tone. Like a whirlpool churning in the depths of darkness, his black eyes filled with chaos.
His intense gaze, the pheromones that had lost their warmth, the sudden shift in atmosphere—it all made Heemin uneasy.
Was that not the answer he wanted?
Heemin was about to ask what the problem was when Iheon spoke again.
"If personalities change, does that an mories disappear too?"
"You saw for yourself earlier. I know who Do Junyoung is, but I didn't know he had a younger sister."
Despite answering as honestly as possible, Iheon continued to stare at him with heavy, unreadable eyes.
"Why are you suddenly asking this? Do I seem like I'm lying?"
"No."
"Then why—"
"It's just... convenient."
"What is?"
"Forgetting."
Iheon leaned back against his chair, his expression unreadable. The small gap between them suddenly felt vast.
Like a fog rolling in at dawn, a strange, inexplicable discomfort settled over Heemin.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
"Did you want to recognize Do Heeyoung?"
"Who knows."
Frustrated, Heemin asked bluntly, but Iheon only responded with vague words before taking a sip of his coffee, lost in thought.
What the hell is this lukewarm reaction?
He wasn't angry, nor was he irritated. He wasn’t even outright jealous.
Heemin had expected so kind of reaction, but this... this was worse. He couldn’t get a read on Iheon at all, which only made him more frustrated.
Is he upset because a twenty-one-year-old is acting as the thirty-year-old Seo Heemin? Or does he want the "other" Seo Heemin back—the one who knows Do Heeyoung?
A sudden wave of irritation flared up inside him.
"Oh, I see how it is. You're mad that so young punk spoke informally to you and even forced you to apologize. And to Do Junyoung's sister, no less, after bowing my head and even handing over the cake you bought? You hate that I'm not recognizing people like the other Seo Heemin would, don't you?"
"It's not that. Just eat your bread."
Iheon pushed a plate with a split cream-filled bun toward Heemin, as if telling him to shut up and eat.
"...Oh."
Watching as Iheon took another sip of his black coffee, Heemin hesitated before picking up the cream bun.
Lost in thought, he mindlessly took a bite, only to get cream on his fingers again.
He had been sulking just monts ago, but the soft, smooth texture of the cream seed to lt his irritation away. Instead, a different thought took hold of his mind.
Sweet.
The mory clung to his brain like honey—his fingers, warm and damp, a tongue slowly tracing them, lips closing over his skin, eyelashes casting deep shadows over sharp eyes.
His heart suddenly felt hot.
Surely he wouldn't do it again...
"Tch. Clumsy as ever."
Iheon clicked his tongue. Heemin flinched slightly, but instead of reaching for his hand, Iheon tossed a packaged wet wipe onto the table.
"..."
"What, aren't you going to wipe it off? Or do you not have hands?"
"I'll clean up after I finish eating."
"Do whatever you want."
Heemin wasn’t expecting anything indecent in public, but the stark difference in Iheon's behavior whenever no one was watching was frustrating.
Why was he being so cold now?
This makes it seem like I was expecting sothing...
He felt irrationally wronged, like so weirdo hoping to be licked again.
He's the one sending mixed signals.
The reality was clear—Iheon was still bitter about running into Do Junyoung, about having to bow his head, and about how Heemin's dissociative identity disorder was becoming harder to deny.
Well, fine. I'll be the bigger person and let it slide.
Despite all his complaints, Iheon had still taken him to the departnt store to buy new clothes before his hospital visit.
With a brief glance at the wet wipe, Heemin ignored it and took another bite of his bun.
Strangely, it tasted like nothing.
He took another, bigger bite, but the flavor he rembered never ca back.
***
Beep, beep.
The distant sound of a digital door lock rang through the quiet apartnt.
Iheon was finally ho.
Heemin quickly closed his book and ran to the entrance.
"Welco back."
His suit fit him perfectly, crisp and immaculate, as if he had just taken it out of the closet. It was the sa as when he had left, tailored to perfection. But the heavy scent of cigarettes clinging to his body and the exhaustion etched into his expression told a different story—it had been a brutal day.
From what Heemin had heard, he had spent the entire day touring regional factories with Secretary Jung. eting plant managers, managing company affairs, and keeping the organization running all at once—anyone would be drained. Even if he had two bodies, it wouldn't have been enough.
"Did you eat?"
"I did."
Iheon’s reply was short, clipped. He turned to Minseok, who was standing stiffly, posture as rigid as a soldier at attention.
"You did well. Go ho."
"I'll take my leave now, sir! See you, Hyung!"
Minseok gave a sharp, energetic farewell. Amused, Heemin chuckled and waved at him. Unlike the ever-composed Secretary Jung, Minseok was an entirely different kind of character—one who still drew clear lines but carried a certain liveliness.
"You really enjoy yourself, don't you?"
Not knowing a damn thing.
Iheon murmured just loud enough for the words to hang in the air before turning away and walking toward his room. His gaze had lingered on Heemin's face for just a mont, unreadable and weighted with sothing unspoken.
What, am I not allowed to enjoy life?
A person only lives once—why not find so joy in it?
It had been days since the incident at the departnt store, yet he was still sulking over it. What an impossibly narrow-minded man.
With a sigh, Heemin trailed after him into the bedroom.
Iheon unfastened his jacket buttons and roughly loosened his tie. Heemin stood there, simply watching. Eventually, Iheon’s brow furrowed, and he finally asked,
"What?"
"You're not going out tonight?"
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