''~°.HIDE AND SEEK.°~'' | YEONGYU

THE NOTE #2

Beomgyu wiped at his face with the back of his hand, as if embarrassed by his own trembling. "Sorry," he muttered. "I don't know why I'm—"

He didn't finish.

Because Yeonjun stepped forward.

No warning. No slow approach. Just a decisive movement that cut through the thick air between them.

His arms slid around Beomgyu's waist and pulled him in.

Beomgyu froze.

It wasn't like earlier moments, where Yeonjun grabbed him out of instinct...during a panic attack, during a threat, during something dangerous. This wasn't urgency.

This was Yeonjun choosing closeness.

Beomgyu's breath hitched. "J-Jun..?"

Yeonjun didn't say anything at first. His forehead rested lightly against Beomgyu's shoulder, his hands tightening at the fabric of his hoodie like he was afraid Beomgyu might vanish if he loosened his grip.

It was rare...scary rare...to feel Yeonjun this open.

No forced calm.

No stern steadiness.

No performance of being the responsible one.

Just quiet, real warmth seeping through his hold.

When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, scraped thin by emotion he usually buried too deep for anyone to see.

"No one should ever lay a hand on you. Not for a mistake. Not for nothing. Not for existing." His arms tightened just a little. "I don't care what they wanted. You're not a disappointment."

Beomgyu swallowed hard. He felt small...smaller than ever...but not in the way his parents made him feel. More like he could finally rest against something without it breaking.

"I'm not used to this," he whispered.

Yeonjun let out a breath against his shoulder. "Yeah," he murmured. "Me neither."

Beomgyu slowly lifted his arms, hesitant, unsure if this was allowed. But when he loosely wrapped them around Yeonjun's back, Yeonjun didn't pull away.

He held on tighter.

A sudden knock cut straight through the air.

Yeonjun stiffened. The warmth vanished from his expression in an instant like a switch had been flipped. Whatever fragile honesty he'd let slip just seconds ago sealed itself behind a thick wall of ice.

Beomgyu pulled back slightly, confused but still clinging to Yeonjun's sleeve.

"Who...?"

Yeonjun didn't answer. He stepped in front of him instead, shoulders squared, jaw tight. The rare softness he'd shown was gone...in its place was a cold alertness Beomgyu had never seen this clearly.

The knock came again, firmer this time.

Yeonjun opened the door only halfway.

A man stood outside, neatly dressed despite the rain. Umbrella tucked under one arm. Hair slicked back. Polished shoes. Controlled posture.

"Yeonjun," he greeted with a small bow. "Your father asked me to check on you. He's concerned about your...situation."

Beomgyu peeked from behind Yeonjun's shoulder, confused.

"Concerned...? Why would—"

Yeonjun didn't move. Didn't blink. His grip on the doorknob tightened.

"Taehyun," he said flatly.

Taehyun smiled politely. "Your father would appreciate a call. You haven't contacted him in years. You know how he is."

Yeonjun's eyes dropped...

...just for a second.

...right to Taehyun's wrist.

A watch gleamed there. Rolex. A very specific model.

Limited edition.

Only a handful in the country.

The same one the man in the café had.

Yeonjun felt the blood drain from his face, then rush back in a cold, tight wave. His pulse hammered once, sharply, against his ribs.

He lifted his gaze again.

This time, no softness. No confusion. Only calculation.

"Tell him," Yeonjun said, voice calm but terrifyingly firm, "that I'm fine. And that he doesn't need to send people after me."

Taehyun blinked once, taken aback. "Send—? Yeonjun, I only came because he's worried—"

"I said," Yeonjun repeated, each word sharp enough to cut, "I'm fine."

Taehyun's polite mask faltered. Just slightly.

"Your father won't like—"

"He can deal with it." Yeonjun snapped.

Beomgyu flinched at the tone.

He wasn't used to hearing Yeonjun speak like that...

Taehyun's eyes flicked past Yeonjun, landing on Beomgyu. His smile returned, thinner this time.

"And you must be Beomgyu. A pleasure to finally—"

Yeonjun shifted, blocking the view entirely.

"We're done here," he said. "Goodnight."

Taehyun held his gaze for a moment too long. Rain pattered against the umbrella.

Then, finally...

"...Very well. I'll inform him."

He turned and walked down the steps, disappearing into the gray rain.

Yeonjun locked the door instantly.

Beomgyu swallowed, stepping closer.

"Jun...he's just an employee, right? Why did he come? And why were you—"

Yeonjun didn't answer.

He stood there, staring at the lock, breathing too shallowly, fingers still curled like he was holding onto something invisible.

Beomgyu touched his sleeve gently.

"Yeonjun...?"

Only then did Yeonjun turn.

His voice softened...but only for Beomgyu.

"Don't worry about it," he said quietly. "He just works for my father. That's all."

Beomgyu didn't notice the pattern.

Didn't see the missing link.

But Yeonjun did. He always did.