Chapter 82: You Should Want This Too.
by GideonJubin’s anxiety spiraled without end.
“Hmm…”
He let out a short sound, his eyes betraying his hesitation. If I have to answer anyway, wouldn’t it be better to ask the bare minimum as a partner?
“Was there anyone good there?”
The words flowed out with a surprising lack of emotion.
It was a cruelty disguised as kindness, so effortless it shocked even him. His tone was that of a stranger offering polite, social interest to someone completely unrelated to his life.
The faint glimmer of hope that had flickered in Zion’s eyes—a strange mix of deep blue and light brown—vanished, and his movements froze.
For a fleeting moment, Jubin glimpsed the wound that flashed across Zion’s gaze.
“Ha.”
Zion let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
“I forgot. You and I are…”
He took off his hat, set it on the table, and swept back his flattened bangs.
“We were just partners.”
His voice strained, as if he were precariously suppressing his anger. A smile touched his lips, but his eyes remained cold and still, as if he’d just realized he’d been mistaken.
His gaze was a sharp snap—the sound of a heart breaking like a chocolate bar.
Good, Jubin thought. I’d rather he just get sick of me, this pathetic version of myself, right from the start.
He tried to soothe himself, telling himself that he could just burn away the deepening feelings he held for the other man. After all, this was a weight of emotion that would eventually end anyway. Bringing that end forward wouldn’t change anything.
“You’re right. You and I aren’t lovers. We aren’t in a relationship serious enough to be this desperate. It’s the kind of thing that could end at any moment without a surprise.”
If we just kept things at “liking each other,” we wouldn’t have to get hurt any deeper.
Because that’s the kind of partners we are.
Even as Zion’s expression hardened, Jubin refused to let his smile fade.
“Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”
His tone was soft, as if trying to soothe Zion’s mood, but the apology was a cruel final blow. It was a self-demonstration that he was living just fine within his set routine, without Zion.
At Jubin’s nonchalant, almost careless apology, the last trace of tenderness on Zion’s face vanished completely.
“It’s raining. Did you suddenly decide you want to fuck someone else?”
His voice was terrifyingly low.
His eyes were cold with fury.
It was true that the rainy day had him in the mood for sex. But whether he’d ever want to do it with anyone else but Do Zion—even today—was a complete unknown.
He hoped Zion wouldn’t jump to the wrong conclusion about that much.
“No.”
“Then what? Did someone else confess to you?”
“No, nothing like that happened.”
“It’s not like that—!”
Zion slammed his hand onto the table, his voice rising.
“Does saying that make you feel better?”
Zion’s anger was far more daring, terrifying, and profound than Jubin had ever imagined. His mind went completely blank, leaving him unable to find the words to respond.
Normally, he would have tried to soothe Zion, pleading with him not to be angry… but today was different.
It was Jubin who finally lit the fuse.
“Right, we’re partners. And since you said you don’t love the person you’re partners with, I can see why you wouldn’t want to see me. I understand… I understand everything you’re saying, Sunbae.”
The composure he’d been struggling to maintain just moments ago crumbled, his expression slowly breaking.
“But still, at the very least, to me…!”
The emotions he couldn’t suppress anymore burst out in a harsh, strained voice.
“Isn’t this kind of attitude really rude?”
I never meant to make him look this sad…
“I’m leaving.”
In the end, I had ended up hurting him.
This was the outcome I had wanted, but it had been an arrogant assumption on my part. I had foolishly believed things would simply spiral into a mutual exchange of pain, anger, and blame.
Because he’d always tested and discarded people’s feelings this way.
He would deliberately provoke them, pushing their buttons until they snapped in anger. Before they knew it, their resentment toward Jubin would build until they grew exhausted and walked away.
It didn’t matter to him. He’d given his best to them every single moment.
But what was this?
He should have accused me of being disgusting. He should have called me a piece of shit. He should have torn me apart, demanding how dare I treat people’s hearts like a game.
Instead, he acted as if he’d read my mind completely, making me—who had rushed in just to be hated—look like a child.
The moment he abruptly stood up and tried to head for the front door, Jubin grabbed his wrist as he brushed past.
It was pure instinct.
He didn’t want to let him go.
Jubin thought Zion would stay put if he just held on, but Zion yanked his hand away with a forceful jerk.
“Go rest,” Zion said.
Jubin’s hand fell limply to his side, thrown off by the sudden force. His fragile heart, which he’d tried to hide away for fear of getting hurt, shattered into a thousand pieces.
God, I hate myself for being like this…
As Zion turned to leave, Jubin grabbed the hem of his jacket and yanked him back, slamming the door shut.
I can’t let him go. Not like this.
Jubin cupped Zion’s face in both hands and crushed their lips together. He forced his way past Zion’s lips, invading his mouth and stirring recklessly. He bit down on Zion’s lower lip repeatedly, as if trying to devour him whole.
Zion remained motionless, and as Jubin struggled to hold onto him, his breath came in ragged, desperate gasps.
He had clung to Seo In so desperately that saliva trailed from their lips, a messy, wet string. It was like the clumsy, fumbling kisses of their rookie days. That was how desperate he was.
“Haaah…”
Jubin pulled his lips away slowly, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“This is what’s right, isn’t it?”
The long-suppressed waiting, the resentment, the suffocating frustration for reasons he couldn’t even name—it all poured out of him.
“You should want this, too.”
He had finally voiced his honest feelings, yet Seo In remained motionless. He just looked down at Jubin, his face etched with hurt.
Am I suffering from this guilt because you’re in pain? Or because I don’t want to be the villain? I can’t tell anymore.
What am I supposed to do? I don’t know what to do…
The point was, seeing him so heartbroken over my petty words had left my own heart a complete wreck.
“What good will it do if we get any more serious than this?”
I’d been waiting for this moment, hoping my feelings would be delivered to him in a more refined way. I’d tried to keep the emotions I’d been bottling up from erupting, but it was all in vain.
“You’re my partner! I only treated you as one, so why are you so upset—”
Another surge of emotion choked him, and Jubin lowered his head, tightening his grip on the sleeve he held.
“You should have just ignored me. You should have hurt me back, gotten angry at me just like I did!”
He had only ever known relationships where people hurt each other and clashed constantly. Realizing that this old pattern wouldn’t work here terrified him.
Ironically, the only way to get through to Do Zion was the one thing Jubin feared most.
Honesty.
“Are you done?”
Zion wrenched his hand free from Jubin’s grasp.
For a moment, the ground seemed to give way beneath Jubin’s feet. He had been ready to fight Zion, but he wasn’t ready for this—for the end of their relationship.
Was I trying to hurt him, or was I just desperate for him to understand?
This isn’t right. Zion is actually trying to leave me…
“…See you on set.”
I have to apologize. I have to be the one to do it, before it’s too late…
Just as Zion was about to step out the door, Jubin grabbed him again, his movements frantic.
“…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A single, desperate apology fell from his lips, a heartfelt plea that it wasn’t too late.
He tightened his grip on Zion’s wrist, terrified he might slip away.
The fingertips clutching Zion’s hand trembled uncontrollably. Jubin couldn’t even bring himself to meet Zion’s eyes, his gaze fixed downward in a state of sheer panic. Every part of him—from his shaking hands to his downcast eyes—quivered like a leaf in the wind.
“…I went too far. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
What do I do? How can I make you stay just a little longer?
He had never seen Zion this angry before. He didn’t know how much more honesty he needed to lay bare to keep him from leaving.
I can’t breathe…
“Hah… hah… You don’t have to forgive me,” Jubin managed, his voice trembling as he struggled to catch his breath. “Just… just listen to me for a little longer.”
He stepped forward, blocking the doorway to prevent Zion from leaving, and forced the words out.
“You… you asked if I was really okay with it, didn’t you?”
No matter how hard he tried to suppress his emotions, his voice cracked mercilessly.
Jubin gripped Zion’s wrist tighter, his own shoulders and fingertips trembling.
“While you were… gone… huff…”
The only thing that mattered right now was swallowing his pride and holding onto Zion. That was all.
“I wondered if you were hurt… if something had happened…”
His breath came in short, ragged gasps, making his head spin. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, trying to force himself to stay calm.
“…I even thought… huff… that maybe you’d been in a plane crash. Just for a day, I let myself think something that ridiculous.”
It didn’t matter what expression Zion wore as he watched him. It didn’t matter how much of a mess Jubin was.
“You went all the way to the States… huff… I figured you’d be insanely busy. The time difference is a nightmare, so I thought it might take a day, two… maybe even three or four before you could get back to me.”
Jubin crumbled under the weight of his own arrogance—the belief that he could understand Zion’s silence, the silence that had stretched on even as he waited.
“Weren’t you worried about me?”
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