TATMFL - 39

Hye-sung returned to his seat, arms laden with coffee, sandwiches, and pasta. His eyes darted nervously as he took in the suddenly tense atmosphere.

Somehow, during the brief time he’d been away, the mood had turned sour.

Ra-on’s brow was furrowed in irritation, while Do-Kyung sat with his arms crossed, his expression severe and his eyebrows drawn tightly together. The pheromones emanating from him were thick with discontent, enough to make one’s skin prickle uncomfortably. However, they weren’t of a sexual nature, so Hye-sung merely rubbed the bridge of his nose and tried to stay calm.

“Uh, um...”

Hye-sung cautiously placed the food on the ground, glancing back and forth between Ra-on and Do-Kyung.

Seeing his obvious unease, Ra-on let out a small sigh and relaxed her expression. She then turned her attention to the three bags he had brought.

“Why did you buy so much?”

“I figured it’s better to have leftovers than to run out... but it’s not that much. One of them is just sandwiches.”

“Really?”

After confirming that one bag contained coffee and another held pasta, Ra-on pulled out the pasta containers. There were three types.

She placed the cream pasta in front of herself, the tomato pasta in front of Hye-sung, and...

Without hesitation, she set the remaining dish—aglio e olio with shrimp—in front of Do-Kyung before wiping her hands clean.

For a fleeting moment, the memory of the shrimp she had eaten at Do-Kyung’s hotel room days ago flashed through her mind, but she quickly brushed it aside and turned her head away.

At that moment, Hye-sung’s voice broke the tension.

“Come to think of it, Ra-on-ah, wasn’t that cherry blossom tree over there what you were painting?”

Ra-on turned her head to look at him. He was gazing at the tree she had been painting earlier.

“Huh? Yeah.”

“Looks like it’ll bloom soon. I saw the buds forming.”

As Hye-sung spoke, he opened the lid of his pasta container.

“Want to go see it when it blooms?”

“It’ll be midterm season by the time the flowers open.”

No wonder cherry blossoms symbolized exams for students.

Reminded of the upcoming tests, Hye-sung chuckled lightly.

“That’s what studying hard is for, right?”

“...That’s why people who do well on exams are impressive.”

“But you love cherry blossom viewing, don’t you? You never miss it every year.”

Hye-sung added with a grin.

“You know, among your paintings, cherry blossom trees and pine trees appear the most.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Ji-An and I even count how many you paint each year.”

Surprised by this revelation, Ra-on’s eyes widened momentarily before she laughed, thinking it was just like Ji-An to do something like that.

But as her gaze accidentally met Do-Kyung’s, the smile on her lips slowly faded.

He was watching their exchange with an unmistakable scowl on his face.

‘Why is he the one sulking?’

If anyone had the right to be upset, it was her.

[Smile for me.]

It wasn’t as if he were asking some random mutt—he was treating her like she was nothing more than his plaything.

There was no other explanation for why he would suddenly approach her so threateningly and make such a demand.

And yet, here he was, looking annoyed for reasons she couldn’t fathom.

---

Joon glanced surreptitiously at Do-Kyung through the rearview mirror.

Do-Kyung had left in high spirits, saying he was going out for lunch, but now he was back in an inexplicably foul mood.

Something must have happened between him and Ra-on during lunch. Joon subtly rolled down the car window. The raw, untamed pheromones emanating from Do-Kyung were suffocating.

The fresh breeze helped Joon relax slightly, but he soon narrowed his eyes in discomfort.

He thought about the phone call he had just taken on Do-Kyung’s behalf, swallowing a sigh that threatened to escape. Speaking to Do-Kyung in his current state felt like walking on thin ice. Saying the wrong thing could easily set him off—and one misplaced sigh could spell disaster.

[I’ve been telling him repeatedly since last week to come to the office this weekend, but he turned off his phone! What the hell has that brat been doing?!]

The caller was Han Mu-Jin, the younger brother of Chairman Han and an executive at Han Young Corporation. Also Do-Kyung’s uncle, he was a fervent supporter of Chairman Han Tae-Joo.

Already on edge due to the upcoming construction company evaluation and the growing conflict with Sejin Group, Mu-Jin was on the verge of losing his temper over his nephew’s antics.

With so much to prepare for Sunday’s evaluation, Do-Kyung had slipped away, claiming he was working remotely.

Recalling the thunderous voice of Han Mu-Jin, who had been fuming and demanding that Do-Kyung be brought before him as soon as possible, Joon let out another deep sigh, only to hastily swallow it back down. 

He had intended to bring up the matter with Do-Kyung after lunch today—after all, up until right before his departure for the agreed meeting, Do-Kyung had seemed ready to agree to anything Joon said. But now, whatever had transpired during lunch had left Do-Kyung glaring icily at anyone who dared speak. 

...Joon could guess who was responsible. 

Thinking of the face that had recently consumed Do-Kyung’s attention, Joon inhaled deeply through his nostrils, then exhaled cautiously, trembling slightly. His own predicament—unable to even breathe freely—felt pitiful. 

Regardless, one thing was certain. 

‘The young master presenting himself before Executive Han is completely out of the question now.’ 

Which meant Joon would soon find himself on the receiving end of yet another tongue-lashing. 

As Joon gazed sorrowfully into the rearview mirror to gauge Do-Kyung’s mood, the young master sat with his chin resting on his hand, staring coldly out the window. But in truth, what filled his vision wasn’t the scenery outside—it was Ra-on’s face, vividly etched into his mind like an afterimage. 

For some reason, every time he thought of Ra-on, his stomach churned unpleasantly. It was different from the usual heady rush of satisfaction he felt when imagining her calm, indifferent expression. 

Now, a seething frustration clawed at him, as if he wanted to scrape out everything inside and vomit it all up. 

Why? What had changed today? 

Do-Kyung’s eyes narrowed further, sharp and cutting. 

Was it because of Hye-sung, whose presence always seemed to accompany thoughts of Ra-on? 

“Ah.” 

Finally, as if he had uncovered the answer, Do-Kyung’s lips twisted savagely beneath his palm. 

At the same time, a flood of images surged into his mind, causing his hand—pressed against his mouth—to clench tightly. 

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen Ra-on beside Hye-sung countless times before. But today, for some reason, it grated on his nerves more than ever. 

The subtle way her body seemed to incline toward Hye-sung. The faint curve of warmth in her otherwise dry, disinterested gaze. The gentle lilt in her voice when speaking to him, her lips forming a soft upward arc as she spoke. 

“…” 

Why? Why did this familiar scene feel so unbearably irritating today? 

“Haa…” 

Do-Kyung exhaled sharply, his brow furrowing. Then, catching himself obsessively searching for reasons, he sneered at his own behavior. 

What was the point of overthinking? The answer was already clear. 

[That photo of Ra-on was taken secretly because she refused to pose. Doesn’t she look beautiful anyway?] 

Hye-sung’s voice, which Do-Kyung had barely registered at the time, now reverberated sharply in his ears. 

The photo showed Ra-on scrunching her nose as she smiled awkwardly at the camera, clutching a colorful bouquet of flowers. She looked uncomfortable being photographed. 

But over time, it seemed she had grown accustomed to it. In the most recent photo, Ra-on stood under a blossoming cherry tree, smiling comfortably. 

There were no photos after that. He vaguely remembered hearing that subsequent pictures might be with Ji-An, since Ra-on had enlisted afterward. 

Regardless, she had been smiling. The Ra-on in Hye-sung’s photos had been smiling. 

It felt like a punch to the back of his head. The realization that Ra-on could smile like that struck him hard. 

And suddenly, he wanted to see it. He wanted to see her smile like that in front of him, just as she did in the photos. 

[Smile for me.] 

The words he had spoken earlier had been met with nothing but a cold, lifeless stare. 

A strange impatience, one he hadn’t realized he possessed, began to smolder at the edges of that icy gaze. 

“…” 

Do-Kyung’s eyes narrowed as he recalled Ra-on collapsing into sleep in his arms just a week ago. 

The intense satisfaction he had felt while touching her, drenched in his fluids and pheromones, now crumbled like sand slipping through his fingers. 

He had never lacked for anything he desired. His life had been boring, monotonous, devoid of any real longing or passion because everything came to him so easily. 

The cruel tendencies Joon and others often criticized him for—that slow destruction of what he obtained—stemmed from that very boredom. 

Sometimes he shattered things entirely; other times, he pretended to let go only to snatch them back and watch them crumble in despair. 

The common thread was always the same: expressions of collapse at his feet. 

It amused him. Those pained groans and desperate struggles were the driving force that kept his otherwise dull existence alive. That was why he preferred being out in the field rather than handling paperwork—it suited his temperament. 

And so, his interest in Ra-on stemmed from a similar desire. He wanted to see that pretty, plain face of hers fall apart in disarray. 

Though, to be fair, this interest was different from anything he’d felt before. 

Never before had he experienced such arousal simply by looking at someone—a sensation he hadn’t even known during his most hormonal years. 

It fascinated him. And because of that fascination, he wanted her. 

In the end, he had taken her.

The sensation of having Ra-on in his grasp had been more satisfying than he’d expected. 

“...” 

It definitely had been. 

Do-Kyung repeated the motion of clenching and unclenching his empty hand, tilting his head slightly as if puzzled. 

‘Why does it feel insufficient?’ 

His insides burned as if he’d swallowed a ball of fire. A deep thirst welled up within him. 

“Hah.” 

With that thought, Do-Kyung suddenly burst into laughter, leaning his head back against the seat. 

His eyelids slowly drooped as he stared at the ceiling, then fluttered open again. 

“...” 

No matter how much he mulled it over, talking himself in circles wouldn’t change the conclusion. 

In the end, it all boiled down to one simple truth: 

He simply, desperately wanted to see Yoo Ra-on smile at him.