Upon finally arriving at Andrew's apartment—arranged for them by Secretary Choi—James stumbled inside, clearly worn out. Without uttering a word, he made a beeline for the couch and collapsed onto it with a dramatic sigh. His body collapsed carelessly against the cushions, limbs sprawled as if the weight of the world had just been lifted. Fruitcake, their ever-faithful dog, followed suit, flopping down onto the floor beside the couch with a heavy thud, as if mimicking James' exaggerated exhaustion.
Meanwhile, Andrew, his movements deliberate and steady, led Euan toward the opposite couch. Euan's gaze drifted around the room, still adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings, but Andrew guided him gently, coaxing him into a seat beside him. Andrew sank into the couch first, his posture relaxed as he settled into the soft cushions that seemed to mold perfectly around him. With a quiet tug, he pulled Euan into his lap. Euan responded instantly, nestling into him, his body fitting seamlessly against Andrew's with a natural ease that spoke of a connection long established. Euan rested his head on Andrew's shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort he found there.
Andrew leaned in, his breath warm against Euan's ear, lips brushing lightly as he whispered, "Are you tired?"
Euan's small nod was almost imperceptible, his body still, save for the slight clinging of his hands to Andrew's shoulders. The touch was soft but purposeful, seeking reassurance, grounding himself in the familiarity of Andrew's presence after the chaos of the journey. Andrew's fingers, gentle but firm, moved to Euan's cheek, giving it a tender pinch, as if to remind him that they were here, together, in this moment.
"How are you feeling?" Andrew's voice was soft but laced with concern, his gaze steady as it searched Euan's face for any signs of distress. "Do you feel better now?"
Euan hesitated for a beat, his eyes flickering with vulnerability before he whispered, "Yes." He paused, then added, his voice barely above a breath, "Sorry for scaring you… I think I'm just not used to being in new places. I've always been at the villa."
Andrew's hand moved instinctively to Euan's hair, fingers threading through the soft strands in a slow, soothing motion. He couldn't help but smile at the way Euan leaned into the touch, his entire body relaxing at the sensation. "Don't worry about it," Andrew murmured, his tone warm and filled with reassurance. "Tomorrow, we're heading to the villa James rented. You'll love it—it has a beach view too."
Euan's face, previously etched with exhaustion, lit up instantly at the mention of the beach. His eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and wonder as his weariness seemed to evaporate. He pulled back just enough to meet Andrew's gaze, excitement and childlike wonder flickering across his features. "Really?" His voice trembled with the excitement that bubbled to the surface, as though he couldn't quite believe the news.
Andrew smiled at the sudden shift in Euan's demeanor, his eyes softening as he took in the pure joy radiating from him. He held Euan close, his hand still resting at the back of his neck, fingers gently pressing into the warm skin there. "Yeah, really," Andrew whispered, his eyes never leaving Euan's, as though trying to convey just how much he meant it.
Euan's smile stretched wide, his body practically vibrating with excitement as he melted back into Andrew's embrace. His earlier anxiety seemed to vanish, replaced by a sense of calm in the moment.
***
Andrew leaned against the cold, unyielding railing of the fire exit stairs, the phone pressed to his ear. His fingers tightened around the device, the faint buzz of the call barely registering as his thoughts spiraled. "James, make sure Euan's comfortable while I'm tied up here. Don't take your eyes off him," he said, his tone casual, almost detached, but the underlying concern was evident. "I won't be long. Just keep things in order. We'll head to the villa once I'm finished."
The call ended with a soft click, but Andrew's mind didn't. He stared at the phone screen for a moment, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, before he pocketed it and pushed open the fire exit door. The cool air of the hallway greeted him, offering a brief moment of relief from the tension that had begun to settle in his chest.
His steps were deliberate, but his mind was elsewhere—caught between the cold urgency of his work and the quiet, insistent worry for Euan's well-being. As he rounded the corner near the Vice Chairman's office, he collided with Secretary Choi, who was just about to enter.
"Good morning, Young Master," Secretary Choi greeted, his bow almost instinctive, voice as neutral as ever. He opened the office door without waiting for a response, Andrew stepping inside immediately after.
The moment the door swung shut, the temperature of the room shifted. The Vice Chairman was waiting, and his gaze was nothing short of a storm. His eyes locked onto Andrew with the fury of a man betrayed, and without a word, he slammed a thick stack of papers onto the desk. The impact sent the papers scattering across the floor, the sound sharp and final. The room stilled for a beat, heavy with the weight of impending confrontation. Even Secretary Choi flinched slightly, an involuntary movement at the sudden aggression.
"Are you insane?" the Vice Chairman's voice was a whip, his words cutting through the silence like a blade. "You brought him here? After all these years, and you still can't think straight!"
Andrew didn't flinch. He stood still, letting the accusation hang in the air, the tension thick enough to suffocate. His jaw tightened, the only sign of his irritation, but he didn't react further. Slowly, deliberately, he cracked his neck, rubbed the back of his head as if trying to relieve a pressure that had built long before this moment. He knelt down, picking up the scattered papers one by one, his movements slow and controlled, betraying none of the simmering frustration that had begun to build beneath his calm exterior.
"You're always throwing papers at me when you're mad," Andrew's voice was cool, almost mocking but with an undercurrent of restraint. He straightened up and placed the papers back on the desk with meticulous precision, his eyes locked onto his father's seething gaze. "You really should break that habit."
The Vice Chairman's face darkened, his breath shallow and sharp as his anger mounted. Andrew could feel the tension, but he refused to back down. Instead, he took a small, deliberate step forward, his tone shifting—no longer passive but quietly defiant.
"You know we've only just gotten back on good terms," Andrew said, his tone measured. "I'm doing everything I can to avoid misunderstandings this time. And with how possessive and more sensitive he's been since... I'll tread carefully."
The Vice Chairman's eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with cold disdain. "Good terms? Misunderstandings? The only reason you've 'made up' is because of that accident. Do you really believe lies won't breed more misunderstandings? The moment you chose to live with him under this facade, you condemned yourself to this mess."
Before the Vice Chairman could unleash more of his venom, Secretary Choi stepped forward, his voice cutting through the oppressive tension. "Vice Chairman, the conference room is ready. Everyone's waiting." His tone was respectful but firm, an unspoken plea to defuse the situation before it escalated further.
The Vice Chairman's fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw twitching with barely contained fury. He shot Andrew one last glare—furious, disappointed, but resigned—and then turned away, storming out of the room with a force that shook the air. The door slammed behind him, leaving a lingering echo of frustration in the room.
Andrew stood still for a moment, his shoulders stiff, eyes narrowed in quiet determination. The silence that followed was thick, heavy, and suffocating. He could feel the tension building in his chest, but he kept it together—one breath, one heartbeat at a time. Secretary Choi lingered for a beat, his eyes flickering with a subtle acknowledgment of the battle that had just unfolded, before he nodded and motioned for Andrew to follow.
***
After the meeting, the conference room began to empty as everyone packed up and left. The Chairman remained at the center of the table, deep in conversation with the Vice Chairman about pressing business matters. Across the table, Youn-Jae quietly gathered his things, his eyes drifting toward Andrew, who sat fidgeting in his seat. His gaze flicked to his phone and watch repeatedly, his impatience growing with each passing second.
Sensing Andrew's agitation, Youn-Jae rose, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He approached Andrew, standing beside him, a quiet tension thickening the air between them. Andrew, still absorbed in his phone, barely acknowledged his presence.
"Worried too much, or just bored with this kind of meeting?" Youn-Jae's voice was cool, laced with a teasing tone, but his proximity betrayed the underlying challenge in his words.
Andrew's eyes flicked up, his expression sharp and unimpressed. "Mind your own business and go back to your seat," he snapped, his voice cold, dismissive, a clear barrier between them.
Youn-Jae chuckled, unfazed by the icy reception, his smirk only widening. The Chairman and Vice Chairman were just a few feet away, still wrapped up in their discussion, but neither of them seemed to care about the tension brewing in the room.
"Is that how you talk to your uncle?" Youn-Jae prodded, the words dripping with mock innocence.
Andrew didn't look up, his fingers tightening around his phone. "Is that how you welcome your nephew?" he retorted, his voice flat, holding a quiet bitterness beneath the surface.
Youn-Jae laughed again, clearly enjoying the pushback. Theirs had always been a strained relationship, especially after the events of three years ago. Now, they exchanged only cold formalities, as if that were enough to mask the deeper, unresolved tensions that simmered beneath.
"My bad," Youn-Jae said, leaning down to pat Andrew's shoulder in mock apology. Andrew's jaw tightened, his fingers almost white as they gripped his phone. He was fighting to control the irritation that boiled beneath his calm exterior.
"I should've greeted you and your lover at the airport," Youn-Jae added, his tone filled with teasing mischief.
Andrew's body stiffened, the tension in his posture undeniable. His irritation flared, but before he could respond, the room's atmosphere shifted. The Chairman had risen from his chair, his piercing gaze now fixed firmly on the two of them.
"Lover?" The Chairman's voice cut through the silence, sharp and accusatory.
Andrew froze, panic bubbling up as his mind raced, scrambling for the right words to defuse the situation.
Before Andrew could respond, his father, the Vice Chairman, interjected. "Oh, Father, don't worry about it. Youn-Jae must be mistaken," he said with a dismissive wave, attempting to diffuse the tension.
But Youn-Jae wasn't ready to drop it. "Is that so, Brother?" he drawled, a sly smile playing at his lips. "Because I'm quite certain I saw our dear Andrew with someone at the airport."
"What nonsense are you spouting? It must have been James," Andrew's father retorted, barely masking his irritation but maintaining a steady tone.
The Chairman watched his son's bicker, his eyes narrowing with interest. "You're debating in front of me like children," he muttered, then turned to Youn-Jae with a questioning look. "How are you so sure it's a lover?"
Youn-Jae shrugged, feigning casualness. "Just a feeling. I saw them at the airport yesterday, though I didn't catch the face."
Andrew let out a small sigh of relief, thankful Youn-Jae hadn't seen Euan's face.
The Chairman's gaze sharpened as it fixed on Andrew, suspicion etched into his features. "So, you've brought your lover here?" he remarked, his tone heavy with disapproval. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"
Andrew rose swiftly, his expression carefully composed. "No, sir. Uncle here must be mistaken," he replied, his voice steady though taut with tension. "It must have been James he saw."
Youn-Jae chuckled softly, amused. "I don't think you'd be so sweet to James," he said, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Helping someone gently into the car, making sure they don't hit their head on the door frame? That doesn't sound like you with James."
Nearby, two secretaries exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the rising tension.
"Enough!" the Chairman snapped, his patience finally wearing thin. "I'm done wasting my time on the two of you. When will you finally learn to get along? Let's go, Seo-Joon. Show me the other plans in your office." With that, he strode toward the door, the others trailing closely behind. The door closed with a heavy thud, leaving Andrew and Youn-Jae in tense silence.
The room was thick with silence, heavy and stifling. Andrew's fists clenched, his knuckles white as he fought to keep his composure, while Youn-Jae stood across from him, his face painted with a smug, taunting smile.
"You should introduce him to us," Youn-Jae's voice was a low, mocking challenge.
"No." Andrew's reply was curt, his gaze cold and unyielding.
Youn-Jae's smile twisted, cruel and unrelenting. "Why not?"
Andrew's eyes darkened, his words sharp as a blade. "Because there's no one to introduce," he snapped, his voice barely restrained, simmering with anger.
For a moment, Youn-Jae's smirk faltered, caught off guard by Andrew's vehemence. But he recovered quickly. "Keep denying it, Andrew. Just make sure I don't catch you in a lie."
Andrew's jaw clenched, his fury barely contained as it flickered in his eyes. "Think whatever you want, but I'm telling you, there's no one," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. He took a step closer, his tone cutting like a blade. "And spare me the pretense—whether you're being warm or cold, just don't talk to me at all if you can help it. It's sickening."
Youn-Jae's expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. "You have some nerve, speaking to me like that."
Andrew leaned in close, his voice a fierce, venomous whisper. "Are you still drowning your guilt in a bottle, Uncle? Haven't learned a damn thing from what happened, have you?" He watched as anger flared in Youn-Jae's eyes, but he didn't relent, his voice dropping even lower. "Don't you have any conscience left? Hyung's life is on you."
Before Youn-Jae could respond, Andrew pushed past him, his shoulder colliding with Youn-Jae's as he stormed out, his steps sharp and unyielding.
Youn-Jae stood frozen, shock and something else flickering across his face. The impact of Andrew's words cut deeper than he had anticipated, erasing his smugness and leaving a momentary vulnerability he couldn't hide.
As the silence lingered, Secretary Min stepped forward, his gaze assessing. "You pushed him too hard. Now he's got the upper hand," he said quietly. "I thought you weren't interested in his life."
Youn-Jae took a sharp breath, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. Wordlessly, he turned and walked out of the conference room, Andrew's words echoing in his mind, haunting him in a way he couldn't ignore. Though he wouldn't admit it, the idea of Andrew moving on so quickly with someone else, gnawed at him. And somewhere, deep inside, the bitterness from three years ago resurfaced, reminding him of wounds that had never fully healed.
***
James had already prepared breakfast by the time Andrew left, thanks to Secretary Choi, who had taken care of everything—from the groceries to the meal prep—before their arrival. Still, Andrew couldn't resist calling repeatedly, reminding James to take care of Euan, as if he didn't already know what needed to be done. It was starting to wear on James' patience, though he kept his frustration carefully hidden.
Andrew hadn't woken Euan, letting him rest and recover from the jet lag, so James waited quietly for him to stir, the food sitting untouched on the table. The silence of the room felt heavy, thick with the weight of his unspoken irritation.
Squatting down beside Fruitcake, James absentmindedly ran his hand through the dog's fur, the soft movement calming him as the dog happily devoured its meal. The peaceful moment shattered when the door creaked open. James looked up to see Euan walking in, his eyes half-closed, still groggy from the long flight. He winced slightly, the remnants of exhaustion still clinging to him. His voice, rough with sleep, broke the quiet. "Where's Andrew?"
James stood, stretching his back and wiping his hands on his pants, the familiar motions easing some of his tension. "He left early for work," he said, his voice calm, the indifference practiced. "Didn't want to wake you. Figured you could use the extra sleep."
Euan nodded, his eyes heavy with exhaustion, but there was a quiet understanding in them. As he moved to the dining table, his steps were slow, almost deliberate, as if he were trying to control the weight of his own emotions. He sank into the chair, his body stiff from the flight, and stretched his arms with a quiet groan, his discomfort evident but pushed aside in an effort to stay composed.
"Let's eat now," James said gently, his voice smooth as he settled into his own seat and picked up his chopsticks.
Euan hesitated after a few bites, his chopsticks hovering in the air as his mind drifted. Finally, his voice broke through the quiet, soft and uncertain. "James?"
James glanced up from his plate, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Hmm?"
Euan bit his lip, his gaze dropping to the table as he hesitated, struggling to find the words. "I was... really weird at the airport, wasn't I?"
James' face remained neutral as he lowered his gaze back to his food, his expression giving nothing away. He shrugged, dismissing the question with practiced ease. "It's fine," he said, his tone almost dismissive. "Just let it go. You're not used to being out of the villa much. That's probably all it was."
But Euan frowned, unsatisfied with the answer. The discomfort in his chest didn't ease, and a part of him longed to explain, to tell James what had triggered the panic and anxiety he'd felt in the airport. His thoughts raced, but he couldn't bring himself to voice them. "Really? But it felt like more than that—"
James interrupted before Euan could finish, his voice firm, yet still carrying a trace of kindness. "Just move on, Euan," he said, his eyes not leaving his plate. "It's not worth thinking about."
Euan's shoulders slumped, his words swallowed by the heavy silence between them. He wanted to explain, to tell James about the triggers that set him off, about the overwhelming flood of fear he'd felt as they navigated the crowded airport. But it was clear that James didn't want to discuss it, didn't want to dive into what had happened. With a reluctant nod, Euan swallowed the words he wanted to say, his discomfort lingering in his chest as he continued eating. The unease gnawed at him, but he obeyed James, keeping his thoughts locked inside.
The story doesn't end here...
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