Kwon Yido told me he wanted me to teach him French. He said he needed it briefly for work, but not enough to hire a tutor. When I answered that I wasn’t good at teaching, he said it was fine—just simple greetings and how to read.

'Still...'

Kissing him had been somewhat impulsive. We weren’t affectionate lovers, nor were we a couple who had married out of love. Outside, we might perform the role of a close relationship, but inside the house we were less than strangers. And yet he asked me to teach him French.

'Mr. Jung Sejin.'

'...'

'You’ve had sex with me, you just kissed me, and you can’t even teach me French?'

The problem was, I had no rebuttal. My head was still clouded, full of the warmth Kwon Yido left behind. It was as if I’d lost my bearings, like being stuck in the moonlight.

So, helplessly, I nodded. If he really needed it, I had no excuse to refuse. Only then did Kwon Yido seem satisfied, showing a rare smile as the corners of his mouth tilted upward.

After that, it was nothing but the repetition of daily life. We always had breakfast together, and in the evenings after he came home from work, I taught him simple French. The place was the study at the far end of the second floor, and when that time ended, his pheromones faintly lingered on me. And when all of that was over, I could fall into the deepest sleep imaginable.

At first I thought the reason I slept so soundly was because I was too tense around him. My body had been taut the entire time, so when it gave out, I collapsed in exhaustion. Or maybe, after insomnia upon insomnia, I had simply reached the point where sleep was inevitable.

But only after several days did I realize—the truth was that his pheromones were far better than the sleeping pills I’d always taken.

It must have been the compatibility Professor Choi had mentioned. I felt stability in Kwon Yido’s pheromones, and his uniquely heavy presence let me sleep deeply. Even after sex, the way I slept so heavily wasn’t because I had worn out my body, but because of his pheromones.

It was absurd. That I, of all people, would dare to feel “stability” from Kwon Yido. Paradoxically, the one who made me most anxious was none other than him.

The closer I grew to him, the more he treated me kindly, the more emotions swelled within me along with the burning thirst. Self-contempt, guilt, and a gnawing prickle at what little conscience I had left.

'...Do you really not want anything?'

If I wanted anything, it was only one thing: for everything to return to the beginning. To the day I first met him. And if not, then back to when I first met Father. Or at least to a time before I grew close to Kwon Yido.

Was it escape? No—avoidance would be the accurate word. I hated the pain that eroded my conscience, so later I forced myself to kill the thought entirely. Fortunately, when Kwon Yido stood before me, I couldn’t even recall anything else.

“Let’s use my room today.”

After dinner, Kwon Yido rose first and spoke. At some point we had begun finishing our meals at the same pace, so only empty bowls remained on the table. I gathered the dishes to one side and stood to follow him.

His room on the second floor was near the stairs. Watching him open the door, I realized this was the first time I’d ever been inside. I’d had no reason to go there on my own, and he’d had no reason to call me in, so it was natural.

The interior was starkly clean. The furniture was kept to a minimum, and the colors used in the interior design weren’t flashy. And yet, that absence of any lived-in feeling suited Kwon Yido perfectly.

“Sit.”

I sat on the sofa he indicated. The pheromones filling the room tickled deep in my gut. The smell of wet wood, and beneath it the heavy, distinct scent that was uniquely his.

“You look sleepy.”

Kwon Yido sat on the sofa diagonal from mine. My eyelids fluttered dreamily, then I shook my head lightly. The sensation was drowsy, but closer to comfortable than sleepy.

“No, I’m not sleepy.”

“Sleeping well these days?”

“Yes, well...”

I gave a vague answer. To admit I slept well because of his pheromones was far too embarrassing. Kwon Yido studied my face for a while, then nodded as if it didn’t matter.

“Alright. What are we learning today?”

“Ah, today...”

As he had asked, I taught him the basics of spelling and pronunciation. Since my memories of university had grown hazy, I had to study myself before I could teach him. So during the day I would review alone, and in the evening I’d use what I had learned to teach him.

I thought it would be a hassle, but Kwon Yido learned faster than I expected. Whether he was simply sharp or naturally gifted, he never forgot anything once told. And his pronunciation—so impeccable that sometimes I thought he was better than me.

“I always feel this... You learn incredibly fast.”

When I’d finished explaining all I’d prepared, I spoke while watching him read. He glanced up and let out a small laugh.

“Because I’m smart.”

It wasn’t boastful. Just a calm statement of fact.

“I hardly ever forget something once I’ve seen it.”

What could this man possibly lack? He had everything, and now he was clever on top of it. I’d thought the only flaw was his unpleasant personality, but even that wasn’t so apparent these days.

“Well, I suppose having a good teacher helps too.”

I hadn’t thought he was the type to give lip service. The words made me laugh—not because they were funny, but because the way he said them, half-playful, felt almost cute. That Kwon Yido could be cute. If anyone else heard it, they’d call me insane.

“I’m honored you’d say so.”

Lowering my gaze, I smiled faintly. His pheromones, this atmosphere—it all seemed to wipe away my unease. If I let myself want more, I thought I could almost surrender to this comfort.

“....”

For a while Kwon Yido just looked at me. Those dark eyes seemed oddly vacant. When I met his gaze, wondering why, he murmured to himself.

“...It’s true.”

I couldn’t ask what was. His head tilted slowly as he closed and opened his eyes. Watching me like an observer, he suddenly spoke in a serious voice.

“Mr. Jung Sejin.”

“Yes.”

For no reason, a tension swept through me. I straightened my posture and stiffened my expression, while his relaxed. Tapping his fingers lightly on the table, he began.

“You asked me if the gun in the study was real.”

The gun mounted on the study wall. Even while believing it was fake, I always found my eyes drawn to it. I nodded, and Kwon Yido said in an even tone:

“It’s real, loaded with live rounds.”

A joke—or not? I had heard him say it before, but this time it didn’t sound like a joke at all.

“If you pull the trigger, it will fire.”

“....”

I frowned, unable to answer. More than the fact he owned a gun, what unsettled me was why he was suddenly bringing this up. As if sensing that thought, he tilted his head.

“You seemed curious.”

“...Ah.”

I was curious. But that didn’t mean I wanted the truth confirmed.

“It’s my resolve. My vow never to compromise until I achieve what I want.”

So this is what someone with a goal looks like. Watching Kwon Yido, I understood. The will to seize what one desires with one’s own hands—it felt like this. Nothing like the greedy hunger I’d seen in Father.

“...That’s impressive.”

It was sincere. Though I hadn’t known him long, he truly was an impressive man. He could afford to take things easier, but every day he hurled himself into work without rest.

“I... I don’t think I could keep one around. It would scare me too much.”

Every glance at it would leave me breathless. The anxiety that it could fire at any moment would parch my mouth. I had never wanted to face things head-on; confronted like that, I would only collapse.

“...Strange.”

Only after a long silence did Kwon Yido speak, his observation flat. His slowly blinking eyes carried a strange mystery, like a film scene.

“You say guns are scary, but you’re not scared of me for having one?”

What a ridiculous question. Just because the gun was real didn’t mean he was frightening. He wasn’t going to point it at me or fire.

“...Should I be scared?”

“I thought at least you’d call me crazy.”

He tilted his head as if it were nothing. Then, for some reason, he let out a small laugh.

“Ah, maybe you’re just not interested in me.”

“....”

At that, I flinched before I could stop myself. I really had thought it didn’t matter whether he had a gun or not. He was quick to read me.

“Strange, isn’t it? You don’t seem to dislike me, but you act oddly detached.”

“....”

“What’s stranger is that you don’t seem to hate me at all.”

Even after being treated that way, could he really think that? His words came flat. Was my treatment of him really so bad? I couldn’t understand. He fell silent, then fixed me with a serious look.

“Do you truly want nothing from me?”

I couldn’t understand why he kept asking. If possible, I wished he would stop. Whenever he looked at me like that, I could hardly breathe.

“I...”

I couldn’t confess the truth just because my chest felt tight. I lacked certainty, and unlike him, I didn’t have the courage to confront things head-on. Pitiful as it was, it was the best I could do.

“I don’t want anything from you, Mr. Kwon Yido.”

“....”

“Not just now... It will be the same even as time passes.”

I thought it the least offensive answer. I want nothing from you, expect no return. Though halfway my throat closed up, and my head sank lower and lower.

“So you don’t have to worry.”

Do I even have the right to say that? Shameless—if he cursed me, I’d have no defense. My stomach twisted so tight my chest throbbed. If I could, I would have bolted from the room.

“Do you say that only to me, or to everyone?”

His voice was low, weighted. Even his pheromones seemed to sink heavily. While I said nothing, his fingers brushed my cheek.

“Sometimes I wonder. What kind of house did you grow up in to end up like this?”

Like this—what did that mean? Before I could ask, he lifted my chin. Forcing eye contact, he studied each feature carefully.

“Looking at your face, you seem like someone who grew up with nothing lacking.”

“....”

“You know what you look like yourself, don’t you.”

I didn’t feel embarrassed—just dumbfounded. If anyone looked like they had grown up with nothing lacking, it was him. No, in truth he probably never had.

“In any case... considering your answer, let me ask this.”

His hand slid from my chin to stroke my cheek, then toyed with my earlobe. As his touch lingered, a sweet pheromone clung to my skin. The ragged mess of my mind cleared away.

“Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

His voice was as sweet as his pheromones. No, even if he had spoken normally, in this atmosphere it would have sounded that way. His fingers slid through my hair, stroking the side of my head.

“Truth is, that’s why I called you here.”

Was it alright to feel a flutter in this situation? My treacherous heart pounded. Yes, now that I thought about it, we often kissed at this hour. No one asked why, and no one pulled away.

“If you really don’t want to, you can push me away...”

“....”

“But I’m pretty good at reading people.”

His assured eyes bound me tight. From my nape to my wrists and ankles, even to my racing heart. Closing in, he spoke from a distance where I could feel his breath.

“Stay tonight, Sejin.”

***

Turning points in relationships arrive unexpectedly. A couple suddenly breaks up, or a forgotten friend starts to look different. Or, like Kwon Yido and me, two people grow suddenly close overnight.

'Mm, ngh...'

That night, in his room, I lay with him even without being in heat. As if only the two of us remained in the world, I clung to him desperately, begging for warmth.

'Sejin.'

At what point had it changed? When had that call stopped sounding cold? When had the heart that seeped in without notice turned warm instead?

It was a realization far too late to turn back. All I could do was bite down hard to muffle the overwhelming pleasure. And all Kwon Yido did was click his tongue the next morning when he saw me, concern flickering in his eyes.

As summer began, we shared ordinary emotions. He was no longer oppressive, and sometimes he even smiled at me. Without the excuse of a heat cycle, we lay together, and the act was no longer mere release.

Was this the kind of relationship I had wanted? To say I wasn’t satisfied would be a lie. The affection, the warmth I received from him—it was close to the yearning I had always harbored. Whatever might come at the end, it was a temptation I couldn’t refuse.

“I’m here to pick you up, Director.”

The long vacation finally ended as the weather forecast spoke of monsoon rains. Still, no word had come from Father. I had gone beyond unease to the point of forgetting it entirely. I even began to think perhaps the thing I feared would never come.

“It’ll take some time to readjust after such a long break.”

“...You’ll do well.”

Mr. Kim gave off a strange atmosphere. His habit of pushing up his glasses was the same, but he avoided looking at my face. The way his eyes slipped away was suspicious no matter how one saw it.

Why is he like this? I wondered, but I didn’t press. After all, I was in a fairly good mood, having just shared a convincing kiss with Kwon Yido. The car arrived at the office in silence, and I thanked the driver before heading upstairs.

“....”

But the office itself had the same odd atmosphere as Mr. Kim. The employees’ expressions were stiff, the air inside unsettled. What on earth... had happened? As I wondered, unfamiliar men approached me.

“Mr. Jung Sejin?”

Mr. Kim instinctively stepped in front of me. They exchanged looks, then held out their ID «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» badges. Along with the photo, name, and affiliation, the institution listed on them was one I had not expected.

“You are under arrest for embezzlement and tax evasion.”