CHAPTER 51
The silence that followed the kiss was not the peaceful, resolution-filled quiet of a romance novel. It was a jagged, glass-edged thing that cut through the night air. Suddenly, Raiven backed away, the movement so abrupt it felt like a physical shove.
His eyes, which only seconds ago had been dark with a matching hunger, turned distant and unreadable. He turned his back toward Haru, his silhouette stiff in the pale glow of the streetlamp.
Haru stood rooted to the spot, his lips still tingling, his lungs struggling to pull in the cold air. In the heat of the moment, every logical thought, every bit of Sunghoon's hard-won wisdom, had run down the drain, completely overcome by a surge of raw, primal emotion. Now, they were forced to face the wreckage of the aftermath, and neither of them had an idea on how to handle it.
Sunghoon had lived a long life. He had played lovers on screen a hundred times; he had been the tragic hero and the romantic lead. He haf had multiple lovers in his real life as well. But he realized, with a startling jolt of clarity, that he had never felt this. The intensity of it - the way his body had felt like it was charring from the inside out, the way he had wanted Raiven to simply devour him, was entirel new
Was it the body? He tried to reason with himself as he walked silently behind Raiven's broad shoulders for the rest of the way.
He was occupying a younger man's frame, flooded with hormones and high-strung energy. They were both young, both under immense pressure; maybe it was just a physical release of tension. But then he thought of Juno at the club and remembered the absolute lack of spark he had felt there. This wasn't just biology. This was something specific to the man walking five paces ahead of him.
He bit his tongue, trying to discern if this was a reality or if he had slipped back into that feverish dream. The sharp sting of the cold and the dull ache in his chest told him it was very real. He wanted to say something, anything to bridge the growing chasm. He wanted to apologize. After all, he had been the one to initiate it. He had let his guard down and put Raiven in a tight spot.
But why did he respond? The thought nagged at him. Why did he kiss me back? Maybe it was just a reflex, Haru thought bitterly. I cornered him. He probably just didn't know how to react and went along with it.
Just as they reached the creaking wooden gate of the farmhouse, a rusted old pickup truck rumbled to a stop. Suho and Grey hopped out of the back, waving cheerfully to an old gentleman from the village. They rushed toward Haru and Raiven, their faces bright with the simple joy of their successful errand, completely oblivious to the suffocating tension brewing in the silent corner of the yard.
"We got the special honey Grandma wanted!" Suho cheered, hoisting a jar into the air.
Inside, the house was filled with the sounds of Suho's grandmother fussing over something. While Suho and Grey presented their gifts to the grandmother with the enthusiasm of golden retrievers, Haru felt a cold lump form in his throat.
When they sat down for the late dinner, the seat beside him remained empty.
"Raiven isn't coming?" Suho asked, glancing toward the hallway.
"He said he wasn't feeling well and would skip dinner," the grandmother replied, her voice filled with maternal concern.
Haru felt a lump form in his throat, making it nearly impossible to swallow the delicious stew. He was distracted for the entirety of the meal, nodding mechanically as Suho launched into one story after another. His thoughts were a mile away, drifting toward the closed sliding door of the room he was supposed to share with the man who was now avoiding him like a plague.
After dinner, Haru and Grey stayed behind to help with the dishes. It was a quiet, rhythmic task. Suddenly, Grey spoke up. It was the first time he had openly addressed Haru without being prompted.
"It's nice to see Raiven has a good friend like you by his side," Grey said quietly, placing a stack of bowls into the cupboard.
"I... I am lucky too," Haru replied, his voice barely audible over the sound of running water.
The irony of Grey's words felt like a twist of a knife. Friendship. Was there any of that left? They had already crossed a line of friendship Haru wondered if he could ever turn back the clock. If he could go back to that dirt road and keep his hands to himself, would things be better?
The thought led him down a darker path. Had he always been this way?
As he scrubbed a plate, he realized that in all his years as Sunghoon, he had never felt a pull this violent. He had loved his art, and he had loved his partner in the way society expected him to - with devotion and steady care. But had he ever felt this fire? Had he been blind to his own heart hidden behind the mask of what the society deemed was "proper"?
The realization that he might have been blind to himself was a sore spot he wasn't ready to poke. He shook the thoughts away, finishing the last of the drying in a daze.
When it was time to retreat for the night, Haru stood outside the double doors of their shared room for a long time. His hands shook nervously. The wind was biting at his exposed skin, and the chorus of crickets felt like they were mocking him. He let out a long, ragged sigh and slumped down against the wooden porch, staring at the moon until his eyes watered.
Finally, he summoned the courage to slide the door open. He didn't use his phone's flashlight; the moon was bright enough to illuminate the room in shades of silver and ash. He tiptoed to his bedding, making as little noise as possible. Raiven was already lying down, his back turned to Haru's side of the room, exactly as he had been the night before.
Haru knew he wasn't asleep. The tension in Raiven's shoulders was too pronounced, his breathing too controlled. But Haru didn't want to force a confrontation. He lay down, staring at the ceiling, biting his lip to keep from calling out the other man's name. He turned over, mirroring Raiven's posture.
The following morning was dull and grey.
Raiven had woken up and left the room before the sun was even fully up. At breakfast, the atmosphere was so thick with awkwardness that even Suho ,usually allof to his surroundings could sense something was wrong. He kept glancing between Haru and Raiven, trying to catch Grey's eye with a "what happened?" expression, but Grey just gave a helpless shrug.
When the agency car arrived to pick them up, the seating arrangement was the final blow. Raiven took the seat Suho had occupied on the way down, forcing Suho to sit in the back with Haru. The drive back to Seoul was agonizing. Suho tried to keep the energy up, making small talk about the snacks Grandma had packed for them, and Haru did his best to respond enthusiastically, but his heart wasn't in it.
They reached the dorms first. To everyone's surprise, Raiven got off with Suho and Grey. Though he still had a room there, it was common knowledge that he usually stayed at his own apartment when they weren't in the middle of a comeback. Suho and Grey looked at him in shock, but they didn't voice their confusion.
Haru watched from the car window as Raiven pulled his bag out.
Say something, he urged himself. Ask him to talk. Don't let him leave like this.
But the words died in his throat. What would he even say in front of the others?
Raiven hesitated for a split second by the car door. He looked like he wanted to turn around, his hand tightening on the strap of his bag. But he didn't. He turned and walked toward the dorm entrance without a single backward glance.
As the car pulled away, Haru felt the lump in his throat grow until it felt like he was suffocating. He was filled with a bitter, burning frustration - mostly at himself. He had finally found something real in this strange second life, and he had potentially broken it before it even had a chance to begin.