51. IF OUR LOVE IS WRONG

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The tattoo artist raised his hand and slowly slid the last piece of beef sirloin between his lips, then carefully placed the chopsticks on the table, resting their tip against the now empty japchae bowl

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The tattoo artist raised his hand and slowly slid the last piece of beef sirloin between his lips, then carefully placed the chopsticks on the table, resting their tip against the now empty japchae bowl. Chewing the meat, he grabbed the glass next to his bowl and rested his back against the soft pillows that now made him support. Almost unknowingly, he began to rock the wine, letting the red liquid stain the rims of the glass. His thoughts, however, returned to the events of a few hours ago, when he and Jeongguk stood in the center of his mother's art studio, cuddled up against each other. He could have sworn that the scent of the young CEO's perfume was still floating in an invisible cloud over his head, and his arms seemed to still remember the shape of the man's strong back and the warmth of his body.

From what Taehyung had noticed, the house of the Jeon family had a beautiful dining room, directly adjacent to the spacious kitchen in which he had the pleasure to cook some time ago. Despite this, they chose not to eat there. Instead, they sat down together in the living room, at the low coffee table, on the cushions they had previously taken from the comfortable couch. They didn't know why, or maybe they just didn't think about it at all, but they preferred to eat in the cozy living room, sitting on the floor, rather than in the spacious dining room, which seemed to wait for a large family to sit down to the gala dinner. So as soon as the redhead finished preparing food for them, Jeongguk helped him carry everything to the living room. On the other hand, Kim, leaving the kitchen, quickly stole one of the bottles of wine from a small stand. He felt that after what had happened, both he and the young CEO would love to soothe their nerves with red wine.

Now he stared at the glass in his hand, then raised it to his mouth and took a long sip of the wine as if it would encourage him. Only when the alcohol moved down his throat, gently warming the esophagus, he looked up and looked shyly at the brunet who was sitting in front of him. Jeongguk has not finished his dish yet. A good deal of the fried noodles were still in the blue bamboo-patterned bowl on the table in front of him. He was holding a glass of wine in his hands, but that too was almost full. The boy probably barely drenched his lips in it. His gaze was absent, he was staring at his hands as if he expected to see something there at any moment.

The tattoo artist involuntarily shifted his gaze to the hands of the young CEO. On the ring finger of his left hand, there was no trace of the wedding ring he had seen when the brunet came to tell him about the Academy letter. He noticed it almost immediately as he unknowingly grabbed his hand on the plane, but he didn't dare to ask what made the boy decide to take it off. Such jewelry was not Jeongguk-style, and he was sure he would not have chosen one himself, so he knew it must have been a gift from his fiancée. He wanted to ask why he wasn't wearing it anymore, but he was afraid of what he might hear. But what worried him a lot more was that something new had appeared on the hands he knew so well...

Scars.

He didn't notice it right away. It was only when he grabbed his hand on the plane that he felt something under his fingers that disturbed him, and when he looked at the back of his hand, he saw that his fears were real ― Jeongguk's hands were sliced ​​by a few small scars that had not been there before.

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