SWAP 63

Something is strange.

Prompted by a subtle intuition scratching at the back of his neck, Saheon kept his gaze fixed on one person even while shaking out his wet hair. Seoul must have noticed the persistent stare, yet he never looked back once. That irritated Saheon more than he expected.

He had clearly seemed in a good mood until this morning, so why was he suddenly like this?

Recalling the fingertips that had fed him a couple of apple slices while he was still half-asleep and rubbing his eyes, Saheon retraced the time that had passed. Naturally, there wasn’t a single point of friction. That left only one segment: the twenty minutes he had been out of the house.

“…”

What could have possibly happened in those few minutes to sour his mood? Rapidly conjuring several possibilities, Saheon pulled off his damp shoes. He had guessed it would rain since the day was gloomy, but even he hadn’t anticipated it would pour like that in a single moment. With a boom!, the rain had lashed down as if a thin film covering the sky had been torn open, leaving him helplessly soaked.

While he was meaninglessly scanning the water droplets dripping onto the floor, something was suddenly placed on his head.

Seoul, who had scurried to the bathroom and back before anyone noticed, came out with a snow-white towel and began shaking the moisture off himself, advising in a worried voice.

“You’ll catch a cold. Go wash up quickly. Use warm water, not cold, okay?”

He hadn’t said a word the whole way back, only opening his mouth now to worry. Saheon found it absurd, but since it was so much like Lee Seoul, he simply nodded without talking back. He gave only half-hearted responses to the two guys who popped out of the living room to say something to him.

With every step he took, wet footprints clicked against the floor. Saheon started to head up to the second floor but turned around to give a warning.

“I’ll wipe it up, so leave it be.”

“I got it. Just get upstairs quickly.”

“…”

I don’t think he’s going to listen.

Saheon narrowed his eyes, but there was nothing he could do.

As soon as he finished his quick shower on the second floor and opened the bathroom door, Saheon immediately cast his eyes to the floor. Along with a set of fresh clothes laid out neatly, the hallway was—as expected—clean without a single trace of moisture.

After changing his clothes and heading downstairs while drying his steaming hair with a towel, he heard the weathercaster announcing that the rainy season was starting early this year. Letting the news drift past him, he stood behind Lee Seoul, who was sitting on the sofa. Despite having felt Saheon’s presence from the moment he stepped on the stairs, the back of Seoul’s head remained perfectly round and still, feigning total ignorance.

“I said I would do it.”

“What does it matter who does it? Dry your hair and come over, let’s have some toast.”

Seoul replied in an ordinary voice. He still didn’t look back, keeping his eyes fixed on the TV. Watching that sight, Saheon’s expression became subtle. While wondering what he had missed, he lowered his head for now.

“I washed with warm water.”

“Yeah, good job.”

“Then dry my hair for me.”

“Are you a baby? Stop playing around and go dry it quickly.”

“My palm is throbbing. You do it.”

At that feigned pain, Seoul, who had been stubbornly looking only forward, whipped his head around. If he was going to ignore him, he should have stayed tough until the end, but he couldn’t last a second at the mere mention of a wound throbbing. Saheon found it cute and funny, but without showing it, he lowered his head a bit more. Eventually, Seoul stood up, dragged Saheon by the wrist to the room, and took out the hairdryer.

“That didn’t happen while you were peeling fruit, did it?”

Swish, swish. He must have felt somewhat aggrieved even while drying Saheon’s hair with careful movements. Saheon, sitting obediently despite the interrogation that sounded like a conviction, replied without changing his expression.

“You’re doubting me again. Should I reenact how I peeled it for you?”

“Stop talking nonsense.”

“Ask my sister, she went to the emergency room with me.”

It wasn’t a lie. It was a fact that Seo Suran had rushed to the emergency room. He remembered it because he had tuned out the primary physician—who was rambling on about how his nerves would have been severed if the cut had been just a little deeper—and focused on keeping people’s mouths shut. Don’t tell Lee Seoul. He’ll literally faint if he sees this.

But looking back, he thought he should have just let him faint back then. His mood plummeted vertically as he recalled the days he spent doing stupid things just to hide a trivial wound like this. Swallowing back something dark that welled up, Saheon slowly lifted his chin. As he rolled his eyes upward, he saw Lee Seoul still looking sullen, as if he still didn’t quite believe it.

He silently examined every corner of that white face, but when their gazes met, Seoul avoided his eyes again. Being ignored without even knowing the reason should have made Saheon more than upset. However, Saheon just quietly held his breath. Instead of getting angry, he became keenly aware at that point.

Ah. Why is he depressed?

It wasn’t that he was in a state of being displeased with something; it was just that he was a bit discouraged.

Saheon understood the fact that Lee Seoul was a beautiful “sunfish”—easily stressed and fragile—more accurately than anyone else. Because he saw right through that disposition of swallowing everything and falling ill rather than unburdening himself to others to feel better, Saheon remained quiet.

Seoul wasn’t the type to open his mouth easily if prodded, and in times like this, it was better to just leave him be and coax him gently. For that purpose, holding back his own god-awful temper was nothing.

While he habitually swallowed the urge to grab Seoul’s chin and force him to make eye contact every time he slipped away, the oblivious Lee Seoul spoke.

“Done. Let’s go down now.”

After checking the hair with his fingertips to ensure the ends were dry, he turned away abruptly.

A hollow laugh escaped Saheon at the sight of his back disappearing in a hurry without even listening for an answer.

After tidying the room briefly, Saheon followed him to the living room. Unlike the gloomy weather outside, the floor below was in a state of commotion.

“I see it’s going to rain all the way until tonight, so let’s just play at home today! It’s perfect. We can do that, the weekly event! We have to go buy Legos so let’s skip that, how about watching a movie?”

“Should we? …Oh. Wait. Was that watching my work?”

“Yes. Starring Lee Seoul! It’s written right here, so there’s no choice. It’s worth 5 whole coins, we have to achieve it, sunbae!”

Even while saying there was no choice, the corners of Ye Juyeol’s mouth were already hanging by his ears. To watch his favorite actor’s starring work alongside the man himself; he looked ready to wag a tail he didn’t even have at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Seoul, unable to bring himself to say no to someone so obviously excited, nodded his head. It was a little—no, a lot—embarrassing, but as Ye Juyeol said, it was an event with 5 coins on the line.

Now that the person’s permission had been given, Yun Hyeok joined in, and the daily schedule began to be set at a rapid pace. Since Saheon didn’t care about anything else as long as Lee Seoul was by his side, he watched the scene with a lukewarm interest. However, Seoul’s pupils couldn’t help but start shaking as he faced the schedule being completed by their hands.

“Wait, what do you mean we’re watching five movies…?”

“I actually held back on this… Sunbae, haven’t you ever gone to the cinema and stayed there all day? I start with the matinee and end with the late-night showing. This is more fun than you’d think.”

“…”

Of course Seoul knew. It wasn’t at a cinema, but on his days off, he also had a hobby of watching movies by his favorite directors back-to-back. But that was that… he couldn’t understand why he had to watch five movies that he himself appeared in. Even one was embarrassing; could he endure this?

However, to flatly refuse… Ye Juyeol’s eyes were too pitiful. Like a puppy holding its favorite bone, hesitating, hesitating… looking like it’s about to cry, asking if it can’t please just keep it.

Ultimately, Seoul, unable to win against that gaze attack, gave his permission with the resolution to delete today’s memories from his mind. Then, Ye Juyeol, overjoyed to the point of flying, began selecting today’s viewing works as if he were rapping.

It was a look of a madman all over again, so Seoul didn’t dare try to add a word about the works being chosen. It was just when Seoul was about to resign himself and collapse onto the sofa. Saheon, who had glanced at the neatly decided list, suddenly started wrecking the plans.

“Take this one out.”

“…This? Why take this out?”

“I’m not feeling it today. Exclude the third one as well.”

“Ack, this… this is a work I absolutely wanted to watch together!”

When the bolt-from-the-blue cut sign fell, Ye Juyeol, looking as if the sky had collapsed, tried to protest, but it was no use. Saheon, who until now had been fine with this or that, was unusually firm.

“I see. Put in a different movie.”

“…”

“Is it not my hobby?”

Since he went that far, there was nothing left to say. Eventually, Ye Juyeol, overwhelmed by the momentum, revised the list of works with a heart like he was carving his own bone. Seoul, sitting next to him, didn’t say anything. Because he knew all the reasons for the works Saheon insisted on removing.

A dejected Ye Juyeol asked Seoul.

“By the way, sunbae… I’ve been curious about this since a while ago.”

“…Ah, yes. What is it?”

“Why don’t you do melodramas?”

It was a question completely unexpected to pop out here. Seoul, experiencing a temporary buffering, let his words trail off. Although Seoul was the type to appear in any genre as long as the script was good, there was just one—melodrama—that he had never challenged. There were several reasons, but he had no intention of confessing them honestly.

“Hmm, well… I didn’t have the opportunity. I also think I don’t really suit melodramas. As you know, I started as a child actor.”

“…What on earth are you talking about…?”

Even in blood-spattered genre pieces, Lee Seoul was always the one making people swallow “poisonous” unrequited love. There are a million fans crying for him to please just film one romantic comedy because of those “melodrama eyes” that naturally overflow. Ye Juyeol was one of them and was about to firmly deny it, but there was a voice that flowed out before him.

“Right. You don’t suit them.”