TATMFL - 87

The meeting somehow turned into a drinking session.

Ji-an, unable to face Han Do-kyung sober, had dug out a bottle of strong liquor from the depths of the cabinet. Ra-on’s suggestion that they should just go home was quickly shot down by Ji-an’s fierce glare.

[How can you leave without hearing what he plans to do?!]

Thus began a long stretch of silence at the impromptu drinking gathering. The only sounds were the occasional clinking of glasses as Ji-an poured drinks for Do-kyung and vice versa.

It wasn’t until Ra-on’s patience with the unbroken quiet reached its limit that Ji-an finally broke her silence.

“Yoo Ji-an, you—”

“I didn’t like you from the start,” Ji-an snapped, slamming her empty glass onto the table with a grimace.

“You’re the asshole who carelessly left your pheromones on someone who knew nothing. And now you have the audacity to sit here acting so shameless?”

Despite the insult, Do-kyung simply shrugged, unfazed.

“It’s not just any pheromone—it’s an ultra-dominant alpha’s. Don’t tell me you’re going to pretend you didn’t know she’d manifest as an omega?”

Ji-an’s voice was slurred from the alcohol, her hand trembling as she gripped her glass tightly.

“She was living happily as a beta... and then suddenly, an omega ?!”

“Yoo Ji-an.”

“Ji-an.”

Ra-on called out sternly, while Hye-sung, looking panicked, pulled lightly on Ji-an’s shoulder. His gaze darted toward Do-kyung briefly before dropping away.

That was when it happened. A faint sob escaped Ji-an.

“Our Ra-on… it’s so pitiful…”

“...Are you crying?”

Ra-on half-rose in shock. No matter how drunk Ji-an got, she had never once cried during their drunken binges. In fact, seeing Ji-an cry was a rare occurrence—almost unheard of. Yet there she was, tears streaming down her face, sobbing heartbreakingly.

“I should’ve been there… I selfishly went abroad, and now this punk turns her into an omega… sniff… an omega , of all things!”

“...”

“Ra-on prayed so hard, begged and begged not to become an omega! Why did you have to ruin everything?!”

With that outburst, Ji-an burst into full-blown sobs.

Ra-on stared at Ji-an, stunned. Her lips pressed together tightly, eyes brimming with suppressed emotion. Ji-an was one of the few people who truly understood the pain Ra-on endured because of her mother—how her father, lost in his own grief, had neglected her, leaving Ji-an to be the one constant presence in her life.

But Ra-on never expected Ji-an to react like this. She had thought Ji-an might lash out in anger or frustration, but instead, here she was, weeping bitterly.

Biting her lip to hold back her own tears, Ra-on swallowed hard.

Hye-sung, forcing a smile despite his unease, gently helped Ji-an to her feet.

“I’ll take her to her room.”

“...Okay.”

Ra-on barely managed a response through her trembling voice, wiping her face. Something about Ji-an’s sorrowful crying made her fear that if she opened her mouth now, she’d dissolve into tears herself.

“Hoo...”

As she exhaled a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, Do-kyung’s voice—momentarily forgotten—reached her ears.

“I feel like such a terrible person.”

“...You’re not seriously denying it, are you?”

Her voice cracked halfway between a question and a sob, causing Do-kyung to frown. He’d heard enough accusations from Professor Yang and Joon about turning a perfectly fine beta into an omega. But hearing it from Ra-on’s cousin carried a different weight.

Do-kyung reached over and tucked a strand of Ra-on’s hair behind her ear, brushing lightly against her earlobe as he asked,

“There’s something deeply personal going on here, isn’t there?”

“...”

“Hmm.”

When Ra-on remained silent, clamping her mouth shut, Do-kyung leaned closer, resting his chin near her neck. Bringing his nose close to her pheromone gland, he spoke in a calm tone.

“I hate omegas.”

Ra-on turned to look at him, incredulous—as though she’d just heard the most absurd thing.

“Just as you rejected me, I reject omega pheromones.”

“...Didn’t you say my pheromones were good?”

“Yeah. That’s what surprises me too. Not just me—Professor Yang and Joon were shocked too. How I acted like a crazed dog around pheromones.”

Do-kyung chuckled softly. When the laughter faded, his voice dropped low and serious.

“As an ultra-dominant alpha, I was tormented by omegas. Can you believe that even at fifteen, the smell of various omega pheromones overwhelmed my own?”

It had gotten so bad that people joked he might actually be an omega rather than an ultra-dominant alpha.

Frowning unpleasantly, Do-kyung continued.

“I’d fall asleep alone, only to wake up choking on omega pheromones.”

The memories still haunted him like nightmares—naked bodies desperate to claim him. If he hadn’t been so sensitive to pheromones, he might have ended up with countless children by now. But Do-kyung left that part unsaid as he drained another glass.

Meanwhile, Ra-on hesitantly spoke up.

“...Did your family just let that happen? To a child no less? And why was your house security so lax? How did omegas even get inside in the middle of the night?”

Do-kyung answered casually, as if discussing the weather.

“They were all omegas my father kept as mistresses. Concubines, basically.”

Ra-on’s jaw dropped at the outrageous revelation. It felt like a trashy drama come to life.

Seeing her reaction, Do-kyung burst into laughter, tilting his head slightly. Then he narrowed his eyes.

“Isn’t it understandable to despise omegas after all that?”

Watching Ra-on nod absentmindedly, Do-kyung added,

“To this day, I get goosebumps around omegas. But...”

Reaching out, he traced the soft skin beneath Ra-on’s ear, right where her pheromone gland lay.

His intimate touch caused her eyelids to twitch involuntarily.

“But you’re different.”

“...”

“When I realized you manifested because of me, I felt guilty. Honestly, I liked it.”

Liked it? That was an understatement. He had been so entranced by her pheromones that he forgot his hatred for omegas entirely. He had even thought he could die happy buried in her scent.

Finishing his story, Do-kyung winked playfully.

“There you go—that’s my tear-jerking tale. Now it’s your turn, Ra-on.”

“What?”

“If I shared my story, it’s only fair you share yours.”

Caught off guard by his nonchalant remark, Ra-on let out a dry laugh. But seeing his determined expression, she closed her mouth and lowered her gaze.

Normally, she wouldn’t hesitate to clam up about such topics.

But tonight, she hesitated—and it was undoubtedly due to the several shots of potent liquor she’d consumed.

Pouring cold water down her parched throat, Ra-on sighed softly.

“My mother was an omega.”

Her story unfolded: how her mother found a new family, and how eighteen-year-old Ra-on witnessed their cozy domesticity.

“So every year during the trait tests, I prayed not to become an omega. I feared following the same path as my mother—if I became an omega, would I repeat her mistakes?”

The alcohol loosened her tongue, spilling secrets she usually guarded closely. Feeling awkward yet resigned, Ra-on gave a small, bitter laugh as she emptied another glass.

At that moment, Do-kyung—who had silently watched her until now—asked,

“Is it also because of your mother that you don’t draw anymore?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Ra-on blinked before letting out a soft chuckle.

“You really are sharp.”

She nodded, confirming his deduction.

“To be honest, it’s not that I don’t draw—it’s that I can’t . The shredded remains of my drawings left a trauma I haven’t overcome.”

Though time had dulled the pain somewhat, years of avoiding art had left her unsure where to begin again.

Leaning her head back, Ra-on gazed blankly at the ceiling light refracting across her vision like an afterimage. Lost in thought, she recalled the lone painting abandoned in the dusty studio.

[Let me be the exception this time.]

“...”

Turning her head, Ra-on stared at the memory of his long, straight finger pointing to the base of a towering pine tree. Slowly raising her gaze, she met Do-kyung’s eyes.

Finally, she spoke.

“But you know...”

“Hmm?”

“You said Hye-sung’s pheromones were fine.”

Confused by the abrupt change in topic, Do-kyung blinked. Then, realizing she referred to an earlier conversation from the start of the semester, he sighed softly.

“Ahh.”

He smiled wryly.

“If you still don’t realize I said that to provoke you, what am I supposed to do?”

“Hmph.”

Her eyelids, reddened from the alcohol, crinkled in irritation.

Meanwhile, Hye-sung sat cross-legged outside Ji-an’s door, awkwardly scratching his cheek. An hour had passed since he became a reluctant sentinel, listening to their quiet conversation through the door.

Struggling to keep his gaze off the bed, Hye-sung sighed heavily.

The moment Ji-an hit the mattress, she fell into a deep sleep, her even breathing tormenting his ears.

...This was torture.