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“February 10th. You can keep the body—I don't care. Just send the proof."
Yejun looked straight at the man sitting next to him. His eyes remained calm, blinking slowly as he asked, "May I know why it should be done on that day, Sir?"
He shouldn't have asked—he knew he shouldn't. Audio bugs and cameras were absolutely hidden in this cramped room. He knew he was watching.
But that day, everything felt distinct.
"He'll know why," the man replied—cold, dangerous.
A thin folder slid across the table. Nothing on the surface. Not a single letter.
The blue-haired man opened the folder. Inside was a clean headshot, almost professional—a blond-haired man smiled faintly. His hair reached his neck. The other one was a candid polaroid, taken just three days ago. The same man, laughing as he played with a keychain in his bag.
The last one was a picture of the bar Yejun never went to before. He turned the paper. Something was written there.
Caelum Lounge.
Singer.
Han Noah.
The target's name. Another victim of his.
Someone innocent would die again in his hands.
In Yejun's hands—or what underworld were more familiar with,
Codename: Asclepius.
November 11th, 20XX
The first cross of the month. Red. Horrible.
Yejun put the marker back on the nightstand. Three months. Not too long for a detailed mission—he'd done longer ones before.
He stepped out of the room, calm, calculated. Every footstep was steady as he walked into the elevator. His face remained flat, blue sapphires were as calm—and deadly—as the ocean. The moment the elevator opened, his eyes caught a silver-haired man leaning against the wall near the third door in the hallway. His arms crossed, jaw tight. He seemed to be waiting for someone. Beside him was a taller man, his black hair was slicked back. A tablet in his hands.
Not a new thing, Yejun thought. The silver-haired man looked up once at him. No words whatsoever. Yejun walked past those two guys. One hand raised, then a knock on the door. A pause. Another knock. Repeated. Same rhythm every time.
The door opened.
He stepped in, then stopped exactly three steps across from the desk. Hands at his sides. He bowed—not too long, not too deep.
Behind the desk was a man in his late 60s. From where he stood, Yejun could see a large painting was attached on the wall right behind the man.
Zeus.
"Codename," the man finally spoke.
"Asclepius," Yejun replied, cold, professional. Nobody knew how it broke him every time that name was uttered from his mouth.
Zeus stopped whatever he was doing. Still, he didn't look up. "Mission."
"Snow White," Yejun answered.
Outside, the silver-haired man frowned. His brows knitted tighter, neck tensed.
This didn't feel ordinary.
Inside, the movie continued—deadline, method, proof, everything. They heard it all, like it was deliberate. As if someone wanted them to understand, "This is what obedience looks like."
Zeus met Yejun in the eyes. There was a three second pause. Then, with voice sharper than before, he declared,
"You will not become attached."
Yejun blinked once. He didn't answer immediately. It was the same phrase Zeus always made him swear if the mission he was going to handle seemed risky.
But Yejun never failed. Not even once. He always broke Zeus's worries and came back intact. A living proof of true loyalty.
This time too, his eyes met Zeus's, and without the slightest doubt, an answer escaped him.
"Yes."
Zeus leaned back at the word. He knew there was nothing he should be worried about when it came to that first son of his.
After all, he was Nam Yejun.
"Proceed."
That was it. The start line.
Yejun bowed slowly, then he turned, leaving. The door closed behind him. He didn't greet either of the guys, nor did they greet him.
The world kept turning as Yejun stepped out of the building. With every step, red followed. The air tightened around him. The gloves in his hands had lost count of how many lives he'd taken. And those hands remained dirty—a stain that could never vanish.
The sole heir of RÊVE Protection Group. That was how he was known, at least in public. The polite, calm, and smart alpha, the head bodyguard of the called company. Only VIPs could hire him—politicians, conglomerates, faces people saw in the newspaper. Everyone respected him, fellow alphas were not exceptions. He was untouchable for ordinary people to reach, but not as dangerous as how people might see.
The underworld, however, thought differently.
For them, he wasn't the elite bodyguard Yejun—he never was. He was Asclepius. The King of Poison. The only child the head family was allowed to appear in public, leaving the other two as ghosts. They never knew what the brothers looked like, but they knew that family meant nothing but danger.
Nobody dared to even raise a head whenever Yejun was there. "Pretend you don't see!" was what he always heard. Truth to be told, it was getting on his nerves. Not that he thought of them as cowards—he knew he was basically a walking nightmare. But sometimes, there was something he wanted them to know: he didn't just slaughter any random people he met down the street. He was an assassin. A hitman. He killed to be paid.
And that wasn't even his intention. Never.
The door before him swung open as he stepped in, and among the glare of the neon lights, the ear-piercing music, and the nasty smell of alcohol, their eyes met.
The calm, beautiful sky-blue eyes. The mole under the left eye. The light, smooth skin everyone knew was a result of a high maintenance self-care routine.
Yejun walked toward the man who was singing on the stage, didn't care if the crowd began to be silent. Some whispered about the word bodyguard, the other didn't dare to move an inch. And as if the world around him just blurred, he continued to step forward—toward the blond-haired man whose existence was too captivating, he didn't want to admit.
Like a victim of Medusa, Yejun was frozen. He didn't even blink. His gaze shifted from the guy's face to his hair, then his lips, his hands, and before he realized, he'd already been trapped. By the man's beauty. By his own target.
A universe way of telling him, he wouldn't survive this mission.
November 18th, 20XX
Noah held a mic in front of him. His eyes scanned the entire room. Then they stopped. At the left corner of the room.
There he was again.
A man sat alone with a glass of hot coffee he never finished. His navy-blue hair was always slicked back, giving a neat impression. He was calm—or more precisely, quiet. Noah almost never saw him talk to the other visitors.
At first, Noah barely noticed him. The bar was always packed, and he met new faces every single night. That man was no different. But it had already been a week, and people always talked about the said man. The visitors, the staff backstage—every single one of them. It was only Noah who seemed to not know the elite bodyguard named Yejun.
Noah never truly cared about the visitors—for God's sake, he was never interested. But even he couldn't deny how the visitors behaved way better when Yejun was around. Since it was a dirty place, commotion was daily food for Noah—people beating each other, table crashing, bottles flying. But for the past week, nights became calmer. It feels good having him around, he thought. Interesting.
If only he knew, he shouldn't be interested.
The corridor seemed like it was stretched for eternity—or perhaps, Noah was just exhausted. The first day of the week always felt like hell, and though he'd been working for more than five years, Noah would never get used to it.
It was 2 AM when he checked on his phone as he walked, until he bumped into a man from the opposite direction. "Ah, sorry!" he said, quickly crouching down to grab his phone that had fallen on the floor. But a hand already grabbed it faster than he could.
"It's okay," the man replied, his voice soft, calm. Too calm. "Here. Your phone."
Noah took it back. He smiled faintly, tucking a lock of hair to the back of his ear. "Thank you," he said softly. But just as he was about to leave, the man called again.
"I'm sorry, could you tell me the exit? The usual one was under reconstruction, after all."
Noah blinked twice, then something flashed in his mind. His hand slapped his forehead and it made a faint smacking sound. "Damn, I completely forgot."
The other man let out soft giggles. Cute, he thought. He walked alongside Noah as the blond led the way. Of course, it was all a lie. There was no way he didn't know the exit—even bumping earlier, he had everything planned all along.
"There you go." Noah pointed to the Temporary Exit writing behind the door. "Please use this way for the time being. We're sorry for the inconvenience."
Yejun quickly grabbed Noah's shoulders, not allowing the guy to bow. "No, it's fine. I'm sorry I'm bad with directions."
Another lie.
"It's late, are you going home with someone? It's dangerous for an omega to walk alone, after all."
Noah shrugged, nonchalant as he always was. "Nah, I'm used to it, and I live nearby, so don't worry."
But the blue-haired man sighed, like a disappointed father of three. Exactly why you have to worry, he hoped the blond would hear it. "Still, let me walk you home. What kind of alpha lets an omega walk alone in this hour, right?"
The other man chuckled, replying in a teasing tone, "Heh, alright, then, Mr. Alpha."
The two walked alongside each other along the quiet road in the cold night. Soft humming escaped the blond-haired man, his head empty—only a feeling of calm. Noah had always liked the night. It gave him peace of mind, allowing him not to think about anything, even if only for a while.
"Thank you for being our loyal customer," he blurted out, spontaneously. "Is it the coffee that you like? Or our performances? Or simply the vibes?"
Noah was just curious. Who knows, maybe Yejun's answer could help the bar improve even better. Because for Noah, it was his second home—the staff there, even the boss, were all like family to him.
"I just came in randomly," Yejun answered, "but I like your voice."
This time, it wasn't a lie.
Red spread across Noah's cheeks. He felt warm. His lips tugged into a faint smile as he mumbled, "Thank you."
The blue-haired man didn't say anything. From the outside, he only smiled. But inside, he tried his best to get his heartbeat controlled.
Because Zeus knew everything. He always watched. He always heard.
"That's my house. The white one."
Yejun glanced up at the way Noah pointed out his finger. I swear this guy has no sense of danger, he thought. "Alright. You go first."
Noah nodded. "Thank you for walking me home. Please come to our bar again tomorrow!"
The other man just smiled. He waved back at the blond, standing there for a few seconds until Noah's back disappeared from sight.
December 8th, 20XX
"Where are you going, Hyung?"
Yejun turned. It was his younger brother, still in his firefighter uniform and a cup of instant noodles in hand.
Do Eunho—or codename: Dionysus.
"Snow White."
Eunho frowned. Although Yejun never said anything, he knew Monday was the singer's day off. But it was already the third time, and that hyung kept going out even on Mondays. "Observation," he always said, but even Eunho knew his older brother well.
That guy, Nam Yejun, rarely went into prolonged observation.
He observed just enough. Always just enough. He never exaggerated things, but never underestimated them either. Yet this time, Yejun disappeared for mere observation, even asking the head trainer to move all his Monday schedule to the other day.
For someone who had the word discipline carved into his heart the moment he was born, it was obvious that something was off.
"Hyung," Eunho called again, "let's have ramyeon in your room later."
Yejun paused mid-step. Ramyeon was a signal they both used when either of them wanted to have a serious talk.
And as a failed product because he was too human, Eunho knew something Yejun himself didn't.
Yejun clenched—just a little, afraid Eunho would notice. "Alright." He stepped out, leaving his dongsaeng in the mansion that felt more like a prison than home.
Actually, even Yejun started to notice.
Monday was the last day he looked forward to. No, he didn't hate it. Every day was almost the same to him—training, disguising himself as a bodyguard, taking people's lives at night. Everything was the same.
Yet here he was now.
Waking up to the thought of spending time with someone. Going back to sleep with the thought of the same person.
Before he realized, it was already too late.
Every cross he drew on the calendar became thinner and thinner. He delayed working on the poison he was supposed to finish long ago. It wasn't him. It wasn't the Yejun he knew.
But even the best student in class desired to slack off sometimes.
Yejun sat at the table in the corner of the room. A glass of hot coffee rested untouched. He laid his phone near the window—far from reach, face down—as a blond-haired man walked toward his table.
"Did you wait long?" the guy asked. A thin scarf wrapped around his neck didn't help with how cold the temperature was right now. He kept rubbing his hands together, probably even beginning to regret not dressing warm enough.
"No, I just got here," Yejun replied, taking off his long coat and draping it over Noah without even asking for the guy's permission. "Next time, dress up properly. It's getting really cold these days."
The blond nodded softly, a faint red flushed across his cheeks. He reached for the hot chocolate the waiter just served, and that was when his eyes caught a phone abandoned near the window. His brows lifted instantly. "Whose phone is that?! Should I call the waiters?"
Knowing that, Yejun quickly grabbed it. "No need. It's mine."
Noah narrowed his eyes. "Really?" But his suspicion faded away the moment Yejun unlocked the phone with his fingerprint. "Man, why would you put your phone that far away? You wanna feed a thief or something?"
Yejun let out soft chuckles. Noah was cute, and he'd lost count of how many times he thought of that this day alone. "It's such a distraction. I don't want us to get interrupted when we're together."
A lie—or not entirely.
He didn't want something to interrupt them—yes. He wanted it to be just the two of them—also yes.
But the main reason was, he didn't want Zeus to hear his heartbeat when Han Noah was around.
"I see," Noah replied, voice barely audible. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, gazing down at the reflection of himself on the surface.
It was the third Monday they spent together.
Noah usually had a day off for himself—sleeping for half a day, doing chores, going to karaoke disguised as managing his vocals. But all of that disappeared when he accidentally met a blue-haired man in a coin karaoke two weeks ago. Eventually, the two ended up hanging out for the first time, and from then on, Yejun kept asking if Noah was free on Mondays.
For Noah, having a new friend to spend his day off with felt nice enough that he agreed without a second thought.
For Yejun, however, Monday felt more and more like hell.
"Noah,"
"Hmm?"
Silence. Just the whir of the humidifier.
Then,
"Snow." A mumble. Noah put the chocolate back on the table. His back straightened, then he repeated, this time louder, like he was finally sure, "The snow is falling!"
Yejun turned at the window, but before he could see clearly, the chair in front of him made a loud squeak.
Noah was already halfway through the exit.
He sighed, then calmly followed. As his foot stepped on the grass outside, something cold melted on his head. He gazed up. Snow.
"Yejunie!"
The same feeling hit his cheek as soon as he turned at the voice.
Laughter rang out, cheerful and sincere. Noah stretched his arms wide, letting the snow collide with his skin. Sometimes, he gathered enough just to throw it at the blue-haired one—then ran, already expecting revenge.
But Yejun stayed still—too still. His mind went blank, as if buffering, trying to register what was happening to him.
Because his heart pounded so crazily that his ribs shook.
He thought he suddenly went deaf as he couldn't hear a thing but Noah's laughter.
His eyes were focused only on the blond-haired man, the other grew blurry.
And his fingers twitched, like his body knew what those actually meant before his brain did.
Yejun's gaze stayed glued—to the man so beautiful, he was mesmerized. Noah's eyes were so kind, it made him feel like a lost child—he wanted to cry, to bury his head and sob in that shoulder. A feeling he never thought he could crave. Something so raw that it felt like a sin.
Perhaps it was what his father meant by some people who were naturally dangerous.
Thirteen years ago, he almost fell into someone's temptation. Someone who could land a hand on him and make him almost surrender. Someone whose voice was so soft, it could get him hypnotized. Someone so pure, it made him want to let go of everything and just run to them.
But even the 10 years old Asclepius already knew how to survive.
You're scary, Noah. Just like her. That if I let you in, I think I might forget who I am.
He brushed snowflakes from the blond's hair. A faint smile tugged his lips.
Right, Mom?
It was the first snow in the entire year. And for the first time, winter suddenly felt warm for Yejun.
***
The sun was set when Yejun stepped on to the front yard of the mansion. The butler seemed bowing slightly at the doorway, like he'd been waiting for him to come home. Then his eyes saw him—a black-haired, middle-aged man walking toward the entrance, his long coat sweeping down the floor.
Yejun felt a shiver down his spine, but his face remained unchanged. By the time he saw him there, he knew something bad was about to happen.
Because in this house, Zeus never went to the entrance himself.
The air suddenly tightened, like the earth itself holding its breath. The maids stopped mid-step, the other staff straightened their backs instinctively. Nobody moved, and the room went eerily quiet.
Yejun stopped exactly ten steps away from the entrance. He bowed slowly.
Then,
BANG!
A bullet grazed his hair, blue strands falling on the snow. His heart skipped a beat for half a second until Eunho's cuss forcedly pulled him back to reality.
If only it was two centimeters more to the left, his temple would've been the one that was crushed.
Yejun stayed in that position—not because he couldn't move, but because he knew the consequences. Didn't care if his head throbbed so bad or if he wanted to throw up, he wouldn't move an inch. Not before Zeus did.
Because moving now equal to suicide.
Finally, after a few seconds of watching in silence, Zeus lowered the gun—slowly, as if he wanted to embrace the scenery. He turned, calmly, commanding Yejun to come. The sound of footsteps followed.
Only then, Yejun stood back up, tailing Zeus to the place he already knew where it would be. He didn't say a thing, not even glancing at the silver-haired man whose eyes were full of worries.
Everyone in the house knew it was a warning. Not anger, but a reminder. A reminder that Nam Yejun was and would forever be Asclepius. And the way he didn't flinch when the bullet touched his hair, nor did he slow when being placed in such pressure, had proven Zeus his point:
You're mine before you're alive.
Inside, the report started. Eunho could vaguely hear everything from the outside, but unlike usual, he chose to stay away this time. Right now, the only thing in his mind was whether his hyung was alright. He knew how crazy Zeus could be—for God's sake, if there was someone who claimed they'd seen the nastiest side of Zeus, then that person would be Eunho.
Because as a failure, Zeus himself had tried to remove him once.
"Hyung!" Eunho stepped forward as soon as the door swung open. His hands hovered to the hyung's shoulders, eyes scanning him from head to toe. "You okay?! Where's the wound?"
The older one giggled weakly. His hands trembled just slightly, so he brought them on his back. "I'm fine. It just grazed my hair, nothing more." His lips curled into a smile despite his pale face, then he continued, "Where's the ramyeon? I'm hungry."
Only then did Eunho let out a heavy breath. He nodded once, telling Yejun to just wait in his room.
As Eunho walked away, heading toward the kitchen, Yejun approached the black-haired man who was standing still near the staircase. "Hamin-ah," he called softly, "we're gonna have ramyeon in my room. Wanna join?"
The one being asked blinked once, then he shook his head slowly. No words came out from that mouth.
The blue-haired man sighed quietly. "I see," said him, patting the guy's shoulder twice, then leaving.
Yu Hamin, or codename: Thanatos. The youngest one of the family. Imperfect, but Zeus's favorite. A dongsaeng whose name was always Yejun called in every prayer—although he himself didn't believe if God did exist. I hope Hamin will be able to feel someday, was what he always asked.
Yejun sat on the edge of bed, his eyes staring blankly at the calendar. A knock on the door pulled him back to reality. He turned. A silver-haired man stepped into the room with three bowls of ramyeon in hands.
Eunho set the bowls onto the small table Yejun had placed on the bed. "Careful. It's still so hot," he said, while at the same time hovering his hands and asking, "are you really okay?"
Yejun saw the gesture. He nodded once, chopsticks already in hands. "Mhm. Did you make it spicy?" he asked, his hands talking in a gesture, "I'm fine, really. What do you wanna talk about?"
The younger one put the noodles into his mouth. "Yeah, kinda. You like it spicy, after all." He set the chopsticks aside, then,
"Hyung, you like him, don't you?"
Yejun choked on the soup. His throat was burning, eyes glassy. "What's that?! What do you mean?!"
"Ugh, I told you to be careful!" Eunho quickly pulled some tissues. "I said what I said. You think I won't notice? Hyung, do you forget I can hear the sound of a heartbeat from a distance?"
Yejun giggled awkwardly. "S-Sorry." His hands hovered weakly as they said, "I don't understand. Elaborate."
The younger sighed, shoving a mouthful of noodles in before lazily explaining, "You're hesitating, delaying on finishing the poison, becoming his bodyguard—all because you have feelings for him."
But Yejun's brows were knitted. "Giving my service as a bodyguard is part of the mission—it's so I can observe him more easily. I'm not hesitating."
Eunho's lips parted in disbelief. He was so close to blurt everything out of frustration, if not for Yejun shoving noodles into the guy's mouth until he choked.
Ever since Yejun accidentally found an audio bug was planted even in his own room five years ago, both of them agreed to talk in sign language whenever it was something important. Zeus might not set any camera in the sons' rooms, but that didn't mean the three were free.
Because Zeus never acknowledged the word freedom. It never existed in his dictionary.
"Hear me out, Nam Yejun Hyung." Eunho slurped on the soup before continuing, "How do you explain the pounding in your heart whenever that guy is around? Why do you think you keep delaying the final poison? Do you think I won't notice the faint smile in your lips, the glimmer in your dead eyes, the footsteps that feel lighter whenever you're back from your so-called observation?"
Something inside him began to crack. Yejun tried to interrupt, but Eunho grabbed his shoulders tight.
"That's love, Hyung. You can be stupid, you may be reckless, you might even deny it, and that's totally okay. After all, it's your first love." He stole a piece of shrimp from the hyung's bowl and continued, "But don't you ever reject it. It's part of your fate. Even if you need time, you must accept it—that he is the one stealing your steel heart. If I could, I'd like to personally thank him. He turns my hyung back into a human, after all."
By the time Eunho finished, Yejun knew he was defeated.
The crack within him worsened. He didn't know how to react. Half of him wanted to surrender and believe in the younger's words, but another part kept shouting at him, telling him it was a sin.
But there was one thing Eunho always made him remember.
Love was no sin.
"Ah, I'm so full!"
Yejun flinched. It was a code.
"Everything is gonna be okay."
Slowly, he allowed himself to breathe, even just a little. His shoulders dropped, his face softened. His lips curled into the faintest smile as he mumbled, "You stole my shrimp."
The younger chuckled, stacking the bowls together as he replied, "Thanks."
December 25th, 20XX
Noah reached for a paper in the cabinet. His hands carefully placed a box of perfume inside the blue wrapper. Finished, he carefully glued a purple ribbon on top of it. A smile adorned his pretty face, and giggles escaped—it ended up looking so cute.
One of his friends cleared his throat, taking a glance at the box in Noah's hands, then looking back at the blond. "For that alpha of yours?"
Noah hissed, the smile disappearing, turning into a pout. "He's not my alpha."
The friend rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Then what? Your bodyguard? Boyfriend?"
A faint red spread across Noah's cheeks, making contrast to his soft, light skin. He didn't have to say anything—everyone in the room knew he was blushing. "We're just friends ... good friends. It's just his instinct as an alpha to protect me since I'm an omega."
Noah put the box inside his bag. Then he looked at his phone—a message popped up on the screen. He smiled. His fingers quickly danced on the keyboard, replying to the message.
"But Noah," his friend said again, "do you think that old man will come to you again next year? He kept proposing to you on your birthday, and you kept rejecting him too. How many times were there already? Four? Five?"
Hearing that, Noah shook his head fast. He even shivered dramatically, like it was the nastiest thing he could ever imagine. "Don't bring that up, please. Have mercy on my sanity."
Laughs filled the entire room immediately. One of them spoke, his tone teasing as he patted Noah's shoulder, "Well, you have that alpha now. Who knows—maybe instead of that old man, you'll have that alpha prop—"
"Okay, I'm done! See you tomorrow, guys!" Noah quickly cut him. He hurried toward the exit, didn't care if the room was booing at him. His face was already so red that if he stayed even just a little longer, they definitely would tease him to death.
If he could be honest, however, it was a curse he hoped would come true.
There was no doubt that Yejun was kind. A soft, gentle alpha who always treated Noah well, protecting him without making him feel weak. Still a mystery of why that man was still alone. But Noah knew Yejun would never choose him. Because no matter how close they were right now, no matter how hard he tried to get closer to him, it seemed like something was always in between them. An invisible wall so big, blocking Noah from entering Yejun's life entirely.
Whenever he looked at those sapphires, they seemed like they wanted to tell him more. As if Yejun's words alone weren't enough—he wasn't honest enough.
He wanted to know all parts of him.
He wanted to love him completely.
"Noah,"
The blond looked up, a faint smile tugged his lips. He brought his legs toward a black car in front of the gate. There, a man in a suit stood next to the garage. His dark blue hair almost looked like black in the dark night. His hands were inside the pants pockets, a long black coat hanging on his wide shoulders.
Yejun glanced at the Santa hat Noah wore. He giggled. "Cute."
The other pouted slightly. A huff escaped him. "Christmas special, they said."
Yejun chuckled. His eyes couldn't leave the blond haired before him. "It suits you. Too bad I couldn't come."
Noah shook his head. "It's okay, nothing special happened except for this stupid hat," he paused, a flicker of memory flashed in his mind. "You just had a family dinner, right? How was it?"
Yejun flinched, so faintly Noah wouldn't notice. "Good," he answered, hands clenching into fists inside the pockets. They were wet, a little sticky. Disgusting. "Let's go in, it's getting colder here," he continued, guiding Noah into the car. "Is it okay if we go to my house first? There's something I wanna show you."
Noah paused, his hand gripped the door handle so tightly. "B-But your family ...."
"Oh, don't worry, I live alone. I went to my family's house last night, not the other way around," Yejun explained. There's no way I bring you to them, Noah, he whispered to himself, a wry smile adorned his face. Painful. Broken.
The blond-haired man sighed a relief. "Alright, then," he replied. Then his head tilted as he saw the gloves in Yejun's hands. "Why do you wear gloves? Are you cold?"
An awkward laugh slipped from the blue-haired man. He swallowed hard, didn't expect Noah to ask that. "Mhm. I drove for a long time. It's kinda chilly."
Lie.
He didn't have time to wash the blood off his hands.
The car continued to drive down the street that was quiet despite Christmas. The snow fell softly on the ground, as if giving them time, telling them to take things slow. Amidst the silence, Eunho's words echoed in Yejun's mind.
"You can fake the death, Hyung. I'll help you out with the proof."
Yejun blinked fast, brushing the voice away from his head. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. His jaw tensed, but not enough for Noah to see. When finally the building was in sight, a sigh of relief escaped him. "We're here," he said softly.
Noah straightened his back. His lips pressed together as he gazed at the building. Yeah. He's rich.
The blue-haired man opened the door, stretching his hand out for Noah to hold. Then they walked inside, with Yejun's hand clung around Noah's slim waist. It had been a long time since he came back here—the house he used to lure his victims, but now only became no more than a warehouse to keep his medical kit.
Meanwhile, Noah didn't refuse when Yejun's hand stayed glued on his waist, even though his heart kept beating erratically. As they walked inside the elevator, Yejun quickly moved to the other side, not allowing Noah to be near other alphas but him. He pulled the blond closer as he tapped his card to the panel. His grip finally loosened—just a little—when they were the only ones inside.
Time seemed to slow as the elevator kept going up. Noah yawned—it was three in the morning. "Just on what floor do you live, huh?" he blurted out.
The other chuckled. His hand hovered, ruffling the blond strands beside him. "I'm sorry, just a little more."
Noah stayed silent, eyes falling shut for a second, until the door opened and sleepiness suddenly left him. It's a fucking penthouse?!
He stepped out just a little, eyes scanning the whole room, then blurting out, "Why is it so empty? Don't you feel lonely living in this spacious house alone?"
That question came out without his brain could catch up, drawing giggles from the other guy. "Pfft, I rarely go home," Yejun said briefly. "Could you wait here for a moment? I'll go wash my hands first."
Noah nodded obediently, watching Yejun set a bowl of fruits on the table. He sat on the couch, careful, afraid he would make a scratch there. He didn't even touch the fruits Yejun had served—too busy looking around the room. He doesn't even have a Christmas tree, Noah thought. His eyes lingered on the glass windows.
The night was so quiet, with dark sky and snow falling down slowly. Usually Noah would like it, yet this time was different. Perhaps the house was too big that he felt eerily lonely, but it was so neat that he couldn't help but think, nobody was living here since at least three months ago—as if the owner deliberately tidied it up just for this one night.
Noah flinched—footsteps echoed in the room. Since the house was lacking in furniture, every little sound felt creepily loud. He turned, finding a blue-haired man in the more casual clothes walking downstairs. There was a guitar in his hands.
Yejun placed the guitar on the couch where Noah sat. "Could you try playing it? Tell me how it feels."
Noah lifted a brow, but obeyed anyway. He unzipped the case, and the moment the guitar came into view, his eyes widened, jaw dropping. He picked it up at once, setting it carefully in his hands. When his fingers finally strummed the strings, his eyes lit up.
Seeing that alone already made Yejun relieved. He put his hand on his chin, a bright smile adorned his face as he watched Noah play with the guitar. "How? Do you like it?"
The blond-haired man nodded fast. His eyes stayed glued to the guitar in his lap. "Of course! It's so expensive, after all." He finally looked up at the one in front of him, his fingers curled still on the strings. "You wanna learn to play it?"
Yejun shook his head, taking a sip of coffee he'd made. "No. It's yours."
Those words made Noah slowly slide the guitar down. "What do you mean?"
Yejun stayed silent for a few seconds, then he reached, tucking a lock of strands behind Noah's ear, brushing the bangs that were getting in the guy's right eye. "Merry Christmas," he said, his thumb stroking that soft cheek as his eyes were meeting the other's. His gaze was soft, even though his heart wouldn't stop hammering. Then his lips parted, a serene voice escaped him.
"I love you."
Noah froze, his lips pressed together. "Why?" was the first word he had in mind, but he couldn't bring himself to get it out. He looked down, avoiding those sapphires, but Yejun cupped his cheeks, gently pulling him so their eyes would meet.
"I love you," the blue haired repeated, this time louder, desperate. "I love you so much."
Noah's lips parted, but no words came out. He didn't know why Yejun's eyes watered, as if one touch would wreck him completely, so he let the guy pull him closer, hugging him tighter, stroking his hair tender.
"I love you so, so much, Noah," Yejun said again, now barely a whisper. He rested his head on Noah's shoulder, hands wrapping around the guy's small figure. His eyes fell shut as he buried his face onto Noah's neck, like he tried to hide, afraid of something only he could see. "May we stay like this? Please. Just for a while."
Noah didn't say a word, not even nodding, just pulling Yejun deeper into his embrace—a silent way of saying he allowed Yejun in. He stroked his back gently, whispering soft hums into the guy's ear. It was the first time he saw Yejun look so weak and fragile. "I don't know what happened, Junie ... and I can't promise you that things will be okay." A pause. Then he continued, softer this time, "But I will show you, just how beautiful the world can be."
Yejun shut his eyes tighter, gripping Noah's shirt like it was the only anchor keeping him intact. His fists trembled as he bit his lower lips so hard, it might bleed. For once, he didn't want to remember—that this house was being watched, that every conversation would be recorded.
For once, he wanted to believe Noah's word was true.
But Noah wouldn't be here anymore when things weren't okay.
He wouldn't be here even when Yejun was shining.
He wouldn't be here when the lights started to dim.
He would leave, along with that smile, that laugh, that whiny voice of his.
And Yejun's sanity.
January 1st, 20XX
The first day of the year, and the snow fell heavier.
Tap water flowed freely to the ground as Yejun took his gloves off. He put his hands beneath the water, watching the red wash away. The sound of footsteps got closer. Then a voice too familiar, he didn't need to look up to know who the owner was.
"Hyung, I'm done here."
Yejun just hummed as a response. Only when he was sure there was no red staining his hands anymore, he looked up—his face remained flat. Before him was a silver-haired man, dragging a body in one hand. Blood splattered across his hands and all the way to his hair, staining white with crimson. "Did that one resist?" Yejun casually asked.
The younger shrugged, dropping the limp body to the ground. "He kept saying something about money and it pissed me off, so I played around a bit with him."
A soft huff escaped the blue haired. "Alright, let's finish it quickly and go back home. You still have to burn the bodies, right?"
Eunho nodded, already taking out a lighter. But his eyes caught a phone lit up in the hyung's pants pocket, and he knew that wasn't the phone Yejun used in action—that was the burner one, and seeing the man freeze after reading the message, Eunho tapped on Yejun's shoes once.
Yejun looked up—this time his expression changed. "Just go," Eunho gestured, but Yejun stayed still, lips pressing together. He knew that if he left now, a punishment would be the one awaiting him—worse, his dongsaeng would receive the more painful penalty for covering him. But his heart kept screaming, telling him to go, to run to the one he loved.
"Hyung, go," Eunho repeated, still unwavering.
The phone lit up once again, and this time Yejun was determined. "I'm sorry," said him, "I'll make sure to come back soon."
Yejun put on a new pair of gloves. After glancing at Eunho one last time, he got into the car, smiling wryly at the silver-haired man who just waved nonchalantly. Then the car hurtled, splitting a snow pile that blocked the road. He didn't care if Zeus knew where he was heading. The only thing in his mind right now was a man named Han Noah.
The door swung open with a bang. It took him only three steps to reach the stage, where the commotion was unfolding. His hand flew out, gripping the wrist of the man who had a blond-haired figure pinned against the wall. "Get your dirty hands off him." His voice was low—controlled.
But the man insisted. The words heat and alcohol sounded muffled in Yejun's ears. He didn't understand what the man was saying—not that he wanted to—but he understood one thing: that if he let the boiling rage in his head win, there would be unnecessary bloodshed. So he leaned, his voice deadly and quiet as he whispered, "Don't make me take another life today."
The air shifted and time seemed to stop. Those words came out low, but enough to make the man loosen his grip instantly. Yejun could even hear him swallow hard, as if alcohol was never mentioned from that mouth.
He stood up straight, taking his coat off and draping it over the blond haired's body before scooping him, swiftly cradling him in his arms. He didn't even say a word to the staff, nor explain things to the visitors. He just left, his footsteps heavy as he stepped out of the room. A pile of questions filled his already noisy head. His jaw tensed, but his face remained flat as the engine roared and the car sped up.
Noah was half conscious, his body warm despite the dropping temperature. Yejun held his hand tight, his index pressing on the wrist, just enough to feel the pulse. Only then did his shoulders drop, a sigh of relief escaped him.
"Junie ...,"
Yejun brought his fingers to the man's cheek, gently caressing the warm skin. "I'm here," he said, softly, as if he didn't just execute a body. "We're going home, okay? Do you bring suppressants with you?"
The other shook his head weakly, clinging onto Yejun's arm tighter. "No ... don't go back ... my brother will be upset if he sees me like this."
Yejun's back straightened—Noah never mentioned anything about it. He has a brother?
"Your house ... can we go to your house? Just for a while ... please."
The blue-haired man tightened his grip on the steering wheel. It had been long since he went into rut—he didn't even remember how it felt anymore. But no matter how strong the suppressants he'd been taking, if Noah, the omega he desired stayed close to him, who knows what would be happening. Not to mention Zeus would hear every single word come out from their mouths.
Seeing Yejun hesitate, Noah slowly let go of the man's arm. "Nevermind, I can just stay in the hotel. I'm sorry."
But Yejun quickly held that hand again, tighter this time, as if letting it go now meant a goodbye, and it was the least thing he wanted to face. "I'll stay in the hotel. With you." His final.
Noah stayed silent, just closing his eyes as the car raced through the night. Yejun's pheromone was faint, but he could still feel it. It brought calm to his messy nervous system, shutting them down without making him feel hurt. "I like your scent," he mumbled before his brain could catch up.
Yejun didn't answer. The car halted in the parking lot of a hotel. He rummaged into the first aid kit he always kept inside. A sigh of relief escaped him as he found a heat suppressant.
The hallway to the room felt longer than it was supposed to. As soon as they reached the room, Yejun gently lowered Noah to the bed, helping him lean on the headboard. The door locked behind him, then he grabbed a bottle, unscrewing the cap before letting fluid get into his mouth. He then took one pill out, placing it onto Noah's tongue before letting water out of his mouth into the omega's.
Noah moaned, but he didn't resist. He let the water slide, raining down on his dry throat. His brows knitted when no more was coming out, so he opened his eyes and found Yejun with the bottle in hand, his neck wet from the messy drinking.
"You want more?"
Noah nodded, sulking a little. His arms spread, asking Yejun to get into his embrace.
The alpha giggled, then did exactly like the omega wanted—letting Noah wrap him in his arms as he poured water into the guy's mouth. Yejun set the bottle down on the nightstand, his hand holding the omega's nape as their kiss deepened. Moans followed, tongues dancing, greeting the roof of each other's mouths, exchanging saliva of their own.
"Hngh," Noah groaned, his hands cupping Yejun's cheeks. Before he realized, he was already in the man's lap, leading the kiss as lust—or medicine—slowly pulling him under. "Yejun-ah," he called, his voice barely a whisper, "do you really love me?"
The one being called stayed still. His eyes remained glued into the blue ones in front of him. Before he could say anything, Noah slumped forward, and Yejun caught him agilely, tucking him gently to the bed. He pulled the blanket higher, making sure Noah wouldn't freeze in the cold. For a moment, he just gazed—at how steady Noah's breath was, and how those eyes shut tight in his sleep. Noah looked so peaceful. Beautiful, he thought. The prettiest man Yejun ever saw—and loved.
Seconds passed into minutes, but Yejun was still there—still watching Noah in admiration. His finger moved, caressing softly against Noah's cheek, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty. Then a drop of tear fell, getting onto the bridge of Noah's nose, sliding freely to his cheek.
Yejun leaned down, pressing his lips to the man's forehead—tender, yet carrying more than any words of love could hold. "I do," he whispered, low, barely audible, didn't want his hacked phone to overhear his sincere words. "But you mustn't love me. Don't love me, Noah."
He lay down to the bed, pulling the omega deeper into his embrace. As his eyes began to fall shut, Eunho's words echoed once again. He laughed. You're scary, Noah ..., he whispered to himself, maybe ... I should try becoming a rebel too for once.
That night, for the first time in life, Yejun let himself choose. Even though the weight of what could happen haunted him in his sleep, and the vibrate in his phone kept alarming a countdown, he still chose to close his eyes tight and bury his face onto Noah's nape.
Perhaps ... he could stand against this cruel world, for once.
***
Yejun stepped out of the car, the butler bending down as he passed the entrance. "Where's Dionysus? Is he alright?"
The butler's face changed slightly—just enough to make Yejun frown. "Dionysus-nim is currently on a mission, but he should be coming back soon."
Yejun's jaw tensed a little. But he just came back from one, he thought. Just as he was about to step inside, the sound of car tires collided with the snow getting closer to the yard. He turned.
The door of the passenger seat was opened from the outside by a man in black suit. An umbrella was held as another man came out of the car—his face bearing no expression, and a black blindfold wrapping around his eyes. Crimson splattered on the cloth, making contrast to the dark surface. Even those hands were still wet, red dripping down the floor as he walked past where Yejun stood.
The sight made Yejun freeze, as if the globe chose to stop turning. No, it wasn't the first time he saw Eunho in the blind mode, but if the guy was assigned to the said mission, that only meant one thing: a punishment.
Eunho was too human, he would hesitate if the victims were innocent—worse, if they were women, or maybe children. He would freeze, unable to shoot nor lit a lighter, as if memory of being a hitman since he reached fifteen was erased entirely. So Zeus made it into a weapon.
And the said weapon was now being used because of Yejun.
Because Eunho chose to cover for him. Because he wanted Yejun to choose himself over this shitty family.
Suddenly, the echo of words the younger once said was muffled. The thoughts of what might happen if they followed it slowly disappeared, burning down with the embers of hope the blue-haired once had. There weren't "what if"s whatsoever—his future had been sealed since the day he was born.
If love is a luxury that costs me my own brother ... then maybe, it never belonged to me in the first place.
The vibrate in his phone wasn't enough to stop Yejun. Instead, he turned it off, flipping the screen so it faced the table. Just as he was about to reach for a new pair of gloves, a knock on the door broke up his concentration.
"Excuse me, Sir, The Head is waiting in the training field."
Yejun's hand halted in the air for half a second. Then he took his mask off, answering plainly, "Understood."
He grabbed a tube, putting it into the storing box. A white lab coat went back to its place after he took his gloves off. The sterile room went silent once again as the guy opened the door and left.
There was no hesitation in his every step, though he didn't know what kind of hell awaited him there. Would he get another bullet flying toward his head? Or a punch in the gut this time? Whatever it was, Yejun had braced himself—or so he thought.
The training field wasn't as quiet as he'd thought. Some trainers were there, equipment neatly set. Yejun headed toward where a black-haired man stood up straight. He bowed slowly, their distance only two footsteps apart.
Then silence. Cold. Deliberate. As if words were a permission.
The other man didn't react, not immediately. His eyes glued still to the field, where a silver-haired man aimed a shot with his eyes covered in a black cloth. Then a voice finally came out, low enough that only Yejun could hear. "How's the poison?"
Yejun straightened his back carefully, making sure Zeus didn't notice the slight tremble in his hands. "Still working on it, Sir."
Only then, Zeus finally turned. His face remained unchanged—still expressionless, colder than the snow. "There is only one week remaining."
A statement, not a mere reminder.
"Nam Yejun,"
Yejun flinched, this time he could barely hide it. Ever since the codenames became official, Zeus almost never called the sons their birth names. It was never Nam Yejun, but Asclepius, because Zeus wanted them to remember, "You are weapons before you are humans."
And if a birth name slipped from his mouth, that meant only one thing.
A threat.
One that could put Yejun in his place.
"Yes, Sir." Yejun bowed as he answered, his voice steady, unlike his heartbeats.
"You are an heir." Zeus paused. "You will sit in my throne and have my crown in your head."
Yejun's jaw tensed. He stared at the floor.
I never signed up for this.
"Yes, Sir."
There was a few seconds pause, only the sound of guns was kind enough to accompany.
Then,
"Dionysus seems to slow. Could you check if he's injured?"
Yejun's lips pressed together. Those words came out casually—too casual.
Eunho never said anything. By the time Yejun saw it, it was already too late. This time too, his hands shook as he lifted the guy's shirt.
A bruise—fresh, ugly, blooming on one side of the stomach.
Yejun swallowed hard, but Eunho softened immediately. "Hyung? It's you, right? You okay?" He smiled faintly, just enough for Yejun to see. "I'm fine, don't worry about it. Ah, let's have ramyeon again tonight!"
But Yejun's lips trembled, hands gripping the younger's shirt so tightly—and Eunho knew it. Ironically, getting blindfolded only let him feel more—things the senses failed to capture. So he put the gun on Yejun's temple, not to threaten him, but to drag the hyung back to reality. "Yejun Hyung," he whispered, "get yourself together."
It was as if Yejun could still feel the younger's stare, pulling back his soul, forcedly, but effectively.
Yejun grabbed Eunho's wrist, lowering the gun with one swift motion. His lips curled into a faint smile, even though Eunho couldn't see it. "I'll treat your wound later."
That was the last thing he said to Eunho before he went back to report. After Zeus finally let him go, he walked back to his room, drawing a cross on the calendar.
February 4th, 20XX
He had a date with Noah today.
February 5th, 20XX
They went to watch a movie.
February 6th, 20XX
Yejun accompanied him shopping.
February 7th, 20XX
Noah taught him how to play a guitar.
February 8th, 20XX
"Noah," Yejun called, and Noah turned. "I'll pick you up later."
The blond sneered, one brow lifted, "I know. You always will."
Yejun smiled, his hands didn't stop waving even as Noah had disappeared into the bar.
As if stopping now would stop the world from turning entirely.
February 9th, 20XX
The car stopped right in front of the alley, but Yejun didn't go in—he never did. He always waited for Noah to come at him.
Like guiding a mouse into its trap.
The watch wrapped around his wrist read 11:45 AM. Noah had agreed to meet him although normally he hadn't yet up at this hour. Yejun leaned back first, relaxing every tense muscle. He reached for a perfume he always kept near, eyes staying glued at the glass bottle. Then he sprayed some—a little too much. He put it back in its place, before taking out a bar of chocolate from his coat pocket. A faint smile adorned his face. It was Noah's favorite.
Yejun's hand trembled as he stroked the chocolate. His eyes fell shut just for a heartbeat, then he reached—a syringe he'd prepared a few days ago. The tremble in his hands worsened, and his breath hitched, shallow and rapid. Even so, he pushed it, squeezing out the liquid, filling the once innocent snack with something he would regret for the rest of his life.
The syringe slipped as Yejun's hands shook even more violently. He even had to grab his own wrist, before bending down to take the used syringe. Never once in his life had he trembled this badly. Not even when his own father fired a gun at him, nor when he had to execute so sadistically.
This time, it wasn't only his hands that were shaking, but his sanity—his soul slowly leaving his body.
Yejun stepped out of the car, dragging his legs toward the trunk. A hammer was taken out from there. He placed his phone on the ground, then he got on one knee, eyes falling shut for a few seconds.
Then his hand raised, the hammer swung once. Hard. Ruthless. The phone split into two.
There was a strange feeling of relief rushed over. He bowed one more time, before throwing the broken phone away to the river nearby. "Today is ours," he mumbled.
From the corner of his eyes, Yejun saw a blond-haired man walk, so he tidied up, making sure the chocolate was back inside his coat.
"I'm sorry, did you wait long? I was looking for this skirt when I realized it was already twelve!"
Noah kept blabbering, and Yejun just smiled, despite the stinging in his chest. "You can take all my time and I don't mind, Noah. I'll wait, for as long as you ever need."
The blond narrowed his eyes—not suspicion, but a sneer. "That's cringe, Mr. Bodyguard."
Yejun just chuckled as a response, guiding Noah into the car. Surprisingly, the sky was clear today. The weather had warmed, the snow stopped falling.
For once, it seemed like the world allowed them to breathe.
Yejun looked calm behind the steering wheel—a little too calm, actually. As if he had everything in the palm of his hands, like he didn't just stay awake for the last three days.
And Noah seemed to catch it.
"You okay? Did you have enough sleep?"
Yejun's lips curled into a faint smile. He reached, caressing Noah's cheek as his eyes stayed glued to the road ahead. "I'm fine."
He wasn't.
But who cares? As long as today, they had each other.
For the next twelve hours, Yejun would have Noah all to himself. He would be the reason behind every laugh, every smile, every drop of happy tears the omega shed.
Just for today, he would forget who he was—he wasn't Asclepius, nor someone who lived for missions.
Just an ordinary alpha who loved his omega more than his own life.
***
The sky was dark when they reached the villa. Yejun stepped on the brake, then turned at his side—Noah was sleeping peacefully. He giggled, tucking the guy's strands to the back of his ear. "We had so much fun today," he whispered. "Did you have fun too, Noah?"
The constant caressing on his skin woke Noah up eventually. He groaned once, then giggled. His eyes still shut tight. "Hehe, today was soo fuuun~"
Yejun let out soft chuckles. Noah was so cute, he couldn't help but pinch his cheek. "Which one did you enjoy the most?" asked him, eyes locked at the blond whose lashes were beginning to flutter.
It took a few seconds for Noah to finally open those blue eyes. "Hmm, when we fed the rabbits? They looked like you, Junie!"
The alpha hummed softly. Junie, he said. "Is that so?" He leaned closer, stopping Noah's hand from rubbing his eyes. "They're red now."
Meanwhile, Noah didn't hear what Yejun just said. He was too focused, eyes locking at how Yejun's grip trembled on his wrist. Still, he spoke—something irrelevant.
"You nailed that shooting game in less than ten seconds."
Yejun flinched.
"Thank you so much! I love the plush."
Noah brought the brown teddy bear into his arms. But as he was about to hug it tighter, Yejun had already grabbed his wrist again.
"Can't you just hug me instead?" he asked, a little sulky. "I'm jealous."
Noah blinked for two seconds straight, before a laugh slipped from him. He spread his arms wide, pulling Yejun deep into his embrace. "Geez, why are you so clingy today?"
Yejun stayed silent, letting himself drown into Noah's warmth. His hands wrapped around the blond's waist as his face was buried on Noah's shoulder. The faint smell of the omega's pheromone greeted his nose. It's sweet, he thought. Comforting.
"Noah,"
"Hmm,"
Silence. A three second pause.
Then,
"Thank you for today."
It came out low, barely a whisper. There was shakiness in the voice, as if the word bore more weight than it was supposed to.
"Mhm. It was fun. Let's go again next time."
Yejun pressed his lips together, his nails sinking deep into his palms as he gripped too tight. He pulled Noah closer, unwilling to let go even just a little. He rarely wished—he did not believe in hopes. Yet this time, he prayed for the time to stop.
Because there wouldn't be a "next time."
In another life ... would you forgive me?
A drop of tear fell, wetting Noah's shoulder. But he didn't flinch, nor mention it. Instead, he smiled, whispering softly into Yejun's ear,
"I love you too, Yejun-ah."
Silence. Just the sound of Yejun's shaky breath.
The pieces he'd been holding together so tightly finally cracked, breaking apart in shambles. Jagged edges tore into his heart, a pain sharper than any bloody wound. His chest tightened, stealing the air from his lungs.
Because how could he still be breathing, when he was about to steal someone else's?
그때 알게 되었어
I realized just then
난 더 갈 수 없단 걸
I can no longer move forth
한 발 한 발 이별에 가까워질수록
Every step brings me closer to our breakup
너와 맞잡은 손이 사라지는 것 같죠
Your hand I used to hold seems to vanish
Yejun loosened his embrace. As the song continued to play, he forced himself to meet Noah's eyes. His hands still trembled, yet he reached for Noah's anyway, fingers lacing together like they might fall apart otherwise. He pressed a kiss to his hand, eyes fluttering shut as a tear slipped free.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"What for?" Noah asked, there wasn't the slightest doubt in his voice.
Alas, it remained as an unanswered question. Because answering it meant acknowledging the cruel fate.
The vibrate in his burner phone broke the silence. Without Yejun having to steal a glance, he knew what the alarm meant.
"Happy birthday."
A soft smile adorned Noah's face. His cheeks flushed as he mumbled a thank you.
Yejun cupped his cheeks, pressing a kiss on Noah's forehead before moving down to his lips. The kiss wasn't deep, only enough to linger—to remind Yejun of the taste of Noah's lips, the warmth of his tongue, and the soft moans slipping from his mouth.
"Let's go. I have something for you," Yejun said, already holding Noah's hand.
They went out of the car, running toward the beach in the back of the villa. A table had been set there, along with a cake and candles in it.
Yejun held the cake in his hands. "Blow the candles," he said, not asking Noah to make a wish first.
And Noah obeyed—the candles were already out without him making any wish. Perhaps he forgot, or perhaps he knew something was coming.
Noah cut the cake, smearing the cream onto Yejun's face before feeding him. Then he put another slice into his own mouth, eyes fluttering shut as sweetness melted on his tongue.
Yejun let out a soft chuckle. After gripping the coat for far too long, he finally took out the chocolate bar he'd been keeping all day. His hands were steady as Noah took it—too steady, as if he were slowly losing himself, leaving behind only the remains of whatever had once lived in that body.
Every bite on the chocolate brought Yejun nothing but despair. His heart cracked, shattered to pieces. He wanted to shout, to grab that hand and throw the chocolate away—but he couldn't even lift a finger. The only thing he could do was cursing—to himself for being a Nam, to fate for being unfair.
"Ugh, I think I'm slightly tipsy."
Yejun clenched under his coat pockets. "Already?"
Noah nodded, pouting slightly. He took Yejun's hands and tugged him along the beach. Snow began to fall, but Noah felt warm—maybe from the liquor in the chocolate, or maybe because Yejun was there beside him.
He took his shoes off, letting the sand touch his feet. Yejun followed from behind, taking Noah's shoes, bringing them on his back.
A melody escaped, the voice so serene against the cold wind.
안녕은 나를 아프게 하지만 울어볼 거야
Goodbye will hurt me, but I'll let the teardrops fall
Yejun handed Noah his shoes.
But Noah only took them to drop them back again.
땅을 치고 후회해도 좋아 우리 이렇게
Even if I break in regret, I've loved us after all
Goodby-y-ye
By-ye-ye, ya-ya-ye
By-ye-ye-ye-ye
Noah waved one hand, then moved the other. The red in his cheeks became clearer, his body staggering as he continued to spin. People would think he might be drunk just by watching him.
But it was the poison slowly gnawing within his body.
By-ye-ye, ya-ya-ye
By-ye-ye-ye-ye
Yejun lifted his hands, mirroring what Noah did—waving a goodbye, letting Noah end with a spin as he held his hand.
Then the blond leaned, half-lidded eyes gazing into Yejun's sapphires.
후회조차도 goodby-y-ye
There's no more regret, goodby-y-ye
They sang.
They ended the song.
Both carried a lie they never had to tell each other.
And just then, Noah coughed—too violently, his body convulsed. Amidst the trembling in his body and the ringing in his ears, he saw it vaguely.
Blood. Dripping down to his chin, trailing to his neck.
He slumped forward, unable to fight his own body. And a hand caught him too firmly, as if everything was already expected.
It took him an eternity to only raise a head. Then his eyes caught it: a navy-haired man sat still. His eyes stared into the void, as if no future awaited him.
"Jun-ie, w-why?"
Despite his vision beginning to narrow, Noah still raised his trembling hand—just to caress the face of the man he loved, one last time.
A drop of tears finally slipped from dulled sapphires, mingling with the heavier fall of snow.
"I'm sorry, Noah ... but they want you dead," he whispered, his voice hoarse, heavy with grief. "And an assassin like me is sworn never to abandon the job."
The blond smiled—dryly, painfully. Blood smeared across the other's face as his hand slipped down, too weak to hold on. "So all this time, was everything just a lie?"
Silence.
The lifeless body collapsed into his arms, and he held it—tight, desperate, as if trying to hold onto what little remained of the one who once lived. His throat choked, his chest ached in agony. The tears he fought so long to hold back spilled freely. Then, with a voice barely more than breath, he whispered,
"Of all the lies I told, 'I love you' was never one of them."
It ended there—both Noah's life, and their story that once failed.
Amidst the hum of the wind and the cold of the snow, Yejun let his eyes fall shut. Tears dripped down, sobs slipping. Things he tried so hard to hold together now shattered, gone with the little remains of hopes he once had. He groaned. He shrieked. He muttered the words love and sorry only God knew how many times already. He pressed his lips on Noah's forehead, but the warmth had left completely.
"Noah ...," he called, not knowing why he even tried. "Give me another chance, hm? Please ... I beg you ...."
His face was buried onto Noah's chest as tears kept slipping. Part of him still wanted to believe that everything was merely a dream, that Noah's heart was still beating—but it had stopped pounding, and the chest went completely still.
And yet the world kept turning, leaving Yejun alone, drowning. Didn't care if he was mourning. Didn't care if he was hurting.
"Noah ...," he called again, brushing the blood from the omega's face, "oh, God, I love you so much."
The word faded at the end, as if Yejun didn’t believe how much it weighed on him. He caressed Noah's cheek—the face so peaceful in his sleep.
"God, please ... allow me to meet him again ... I swear, this time ... I'll love him better ... I promise I won't hurt him ... so please ... please ...."
A groan escaped, painful and sorrowful. He pulled the lifeless body into his arms once again—but this time, Noah didn't hug him back. Those lips didn't curl into a soft smile, and the name Yejunie would never be uttered, ever again.
Before losing himself entirely, Yejun did what he could, hoping Noah would see and grant him even a little mercy.
"Sleep tight, Noah."
He pressed one last kiss to Noah’s forehead before slipping off his shoes, stepping barefoot into the snow. Cradling him tightly, he felt the cold bite his feet as he carried him to the car. Gently, he settled Noah into the passenger seat. Then the engine roared—only he knew where they were headed.
"Hey, Noah," he called, as if Noah could hear and answer, "look, I took my shoes off. We're completely alone now. I crushed my phone too when we went on the date. I did a good job, right?"
He let out a small giggle, the memories of the date suddenly playing in his head. How they had lunch and chatted over the shared meals. How they enjoyed riding a rollercoaster, even though their heads throbbing hard after.
Noah smiled a lot today. One day, I'll bring that smile back to him.
Yejun hit on the brake, the car halted right in front of a white house. It was the first time he stepped here.
Noah's body in his arms grew heavier. He knocked on the door three times, then a voice of someone unfamiliar followed from the inside.
"Hyung? Why the fuck did you knock? The door isn't even—"
A pause. The words left unfinished.
The pink-haired man froze, his eyes widened in terror. His breath hitched, cold sweat beginning to drip.
Han Noah was limp in the hands of a man he didn't even know. There was a trail of blood in the corner of his mouth. His eyes were shut tight, like he was pulled into a long dream, not knowing when those eyes would open again.
The blue-haired man moved, lowering Noah onto the sofa in the terrace. His fingers threaded through the blond strands. Then, with a voice so calm and quiet, he said, "This is the least I can do as the one who takes his last breath. He deserves to be buried well, surrounded by the people he loves on the day of his death. Don't worry, he didn't suffer. I made sure to make his death the most painless one possible." He caressed Noah's cold cheek one last time before getting up, turning away as he continued, "Later, if vengeance is what you're seeking, come at me. Anytime. I'll wait."
Yejun didn't take his coat back, hoping it could bring warmth to Noah, or maybe a clue the younger brother could use someday.
I really hope you'll come.
Just as he was about to step out, his hand reached back without him having to turn. "Don't," he said, calm and chilling. He let go of the wrist he just held, continued, "Don't waste your time doing something useless. Train hard. Hate me hard. One day we meet again, you should at least be able to properly hold a knife."
Yejun snatched the knife away from the pink-haired man. He smiled, dryly. Good. He holds grudges.
"Your name!" the guy yelled, shaky but determined. "Tell me your name!"
Yejun stayed silent for a few seconds. Then he turned—enough for the guy to see.
"My codename is Asclepius," he answered. "My real name is Nam Yejun. Remember that."
He dragged his feet away, leaving the pink-haired alone with the lifeless body of someone he held dear. Telling his real name to a stranger was considered a big sin, but he didn't care—not after everything that happened.
The night fell into silence again, and the hum of the air conditioner was the only sound. Yejun stole a glance at the seat beside him. Empty. For the past three months, it had rarely been so. The car that once echoed with laughter and jokes now carried only stillness, and it felt wrong, almost surreal.
Amidst the weight pressing on his chest, Yejun saw him—not vivid, but real enough. The guy didn't smile, only stared with that emotionless face. Then he vanished into the wind, and Yejun felt his soul leave with him.
February 10th, 20XX
Snow White had finally finished, but for the first time in his life, Asclepius returned incomplete.