It's been a week since Woo-jon got face burnt. How neglectful is he towards himself?
Does he not care?
I was on my bed enjoying the peace that is when…..
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Dae-hyun… please open up."
I groaned into my pillow, pulling it over my head. Maybe if I ignored him, he'd go away.
Bang.
I sat up, scowling. "Unbelievable."
Dragging myself to the door, I swung it open—ready to snap at him—but the words got stuck in my throat.
Woo-jin stood there, looking… different. His hair was neatly styled, clothes ironed, his usual perfect look intact — but his eyes gave him away. Red-rimmed, tired.
"What now?" I muttered, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
He hesitated, like he had to think twice about speaking. "…Can you drop me off at work today?"
I stared at him. "What?"
"Just—just for today," he said quickly, shifting his weight like he was ready to run if I said no. "I… don't want to go alone."
That was strange. Woo-jin never admitted fear, never admitted needing me.
"Did something happen?" I asked, suspicious.
He shook his head too fast. "Nothing. I just… it would make me feel better if you came."
I frowned. "So you want me to be your chauffeur now?"
"No." He glanced down, then back up at me, a tiny tremor running through his voice. "I want you to be there."
That stopped me cold.
I should have said no. Slammed the door. Told him to grow up and stop relying on me. But instead, I just sighed, running a hand through my messy hair.
"Fine. Get in the car before I change my mind."
For a split second, his whole face softened — relief flickering through his blue eyes — and then he nodded quickly, stepping back to give me space.
"Thank you," he murmured.
I didn't answer. Just grabbed my keys and walked past him, trying to ignore the way my chest felt tight.
The engine roared to life, and I kept my eyes on the road, ignoring him completely. He slid into the passenger seat, hands folded tightly in his lap, shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller.
I stole a glance at him. He looked… fragile. Vulnerable. Every instinct in me screamed to say something, to reach out, but I forced myself to stay silent.
Minutes passed. The kind of silence that feels heavy, almost suffocating, filled the car. His fingers twitched occasionally, gripping the edge of his bag. His blue eyes stared fixedly out the window, avoiding mine.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. "…Are you even breathing?" I muttered, mostly to break the silence, mostly to keep myself from losing control.
He flinched slightly at the sound of my voice but didn't answer. Didn't move. Just stayed there, small and tense, like the world outside the car could crush him if he dared to look.
I swallowed hard, heart thudding in a way that made me hate myself. This was absurd. He'd barely spoken a word all morning, and yet… just sitting there, miserable and silent, had some part of me on edge.
"Dae-hyun…" His voice was barely audible, a thread of sound that made my stomach twist. I snapped my eyes to him, expecting an explanation. But he only blinked, hesitant, and went silent again.
I exhaled slowly, forcing my attention back to the road. "…You're unbelievable," I muttered, even though I wasn't sure if I was scolding him or myself.
He didn't respond. Just fidgeted slightly, his small movements telling me more than words ever could.
The rest of the drive passed in oppressive silence, the kind that presses into your chest and refuses to let go. And though I hated the thought, I couldn't stop noticing him — the way his fingers twitched, the way his posture seemed too heavy for his frame, the quiet misery that clung to him like a second skin.
By the time we reached his office, I wasn't sure who looked more miserable — him, or me.
I pulled up outside his office, glancing at the building. "…Well, here we are."
Woo-jin shifted in his seat, fingers clutching the edge of his bag. He didn't speak. Not a word.
I huffed. "You can at least look at me when I'm talking. Are you listening, or are you planning to turn invisible?"
He flinched but didn't meet my eyes. "…I'm listening," he muttered.
I raised an eyebrow. "That was supposed to sound convincing?"
He swallowed hard, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. "…Maybe not."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Unbelievable. You could be burned alive outside, sun turning your skin to toast, and you still won't say a proper word to me."
"…I don't… like to talk," he whispered, barely audible.
I blinked. "Oh? Since when? You sure love talking when it comes to me. Do you have a choice?"
He flinched at the volume of my voice, hugging his bag closer. "…I just… I'm scared," he admitted, voice trembling.
I froze. "…Scared?"
He nodded slightly. "…Of them. And… of what might happen if anyone finds out."
I pressed my lips together, trying to suppress the sudden rush of protectiveness — and frustration. "You think I'll let anyone touch you? Or embarrass you? You're ridiculous, Woo-jin."
"…Maybe," he murmured. "…But I didn't want to go in alone."
I leaned back in my seat, glaring at him. "You're unbelievable."
He looked up at me, finally, those blue eyes wide and a little watery. "I didn't know what else to do."
"…You waited outside for three days?" I asked, disbelief heavy in my voice.
He nodded. "…I just… I didn't want anyone else to see me like that. Especially Saebri."
"Saebri…? Who the hell now….?" I exhaled sharply, gripping the steering wheel. "…You're impossible. You know that, right?"
He didn't answer. Just stared out the window, silent. I hated how quiet he could be, how small he looked when he wasn't trying to be perfect or cocky.
"Fine," I said finally, jerking the car door open. "Get out before I lose my patience."
He paused, hand on the door, and then muttered, "…Thank you."
"…For what?" I asked, not moving.
"For… not leaving me here." His voice was barely audible, but it made my chest tighten.
I didn't answer. I just watched him disappear into the building, back straightening slightly as if putting on armor again.
And despite my irritation, despite everything, I couldn't stop thinking: Why does it hurt so much to see him like this?
I parked a block away, lingering in the car longer than necessary. I didn't want to leave him there, even if I'd never admit it aloud.
I watched as he walked toward the building, back straight, head high. But I could see it — the way his shoulders tensed, how he kept glancing over his shoulder.
I grabbed my phone and dialed, mostly to feel like I was doing something useful. He didn't notice, too busy fiddling with the strap of his bag.
When he reached the entrance, two of his coworkers stepped out from behind a corner, smirking. I felt my jaw tighten.
"…Hey, look who it is," one said, voice dripping with mockery. "Blue-blooded pink hair Woo-jin can't even handle a little sunshine?"
I noticed him freeze, gripping his bag so tightly I worried he'd crush it.
"…Ignore them," I muttered under my breath, though I knew he couldn't hear me.
They laughed anyway, circling around him. "…What's wrong, loser? Afraid someone will see the real you? After all, you're just a lame @xx actor."
Woo-jin didn't even respond. He just slightly ignored them.
The boy legit pushed him and took his bag. "Hey loser, just pay attention to me. You'll never get people to like you."
Then he started to release his Alpha pheromones.
I felt my hands clench on the steering wheel. That was it. I couldn't just sit here.
I stepped out of the car, striding toward him. "…Hey," I barked, loud enough to startle the group.
He flinched and looked at me, relief and panic flashing across his face.
"Step away. Stop releasing your pheromones," I ordered the coworkers. My tone wasn't a request.
"Why the hell should I listen to you?."
My mouth moved before I thought. "I'm his husband and it's harassment!"
They laughed nervously but backed off. "Whatever, man. Don't get involved, right?"
I ignored them, kneeling slightly to meet Woo-jin's eyes. "Are you okay?"
He nodded quickly, still clutching his bag. "…I'm fine," he whispered, voice trembling.
"Bullshit," I snapped. "…Why didn't you say anything?"
"…I didn't want anyone to know," he admitted softly. "Especially… Saebri. I…" He trailed off, looking away.
I grabbed his hand — not gently, just enough to make him freeze. "…Listen to me. You don't have to hide from me. Not ever."
He swallowed, looking up at me, eyes glossy with unshed tears. "…I—"
I pressed a finger to his lips. "…No words. Just come with me."
He didn't resist. He let me pull him away, shoulders slumping in relief, and for a brief moment, he looked… small. Fragile. Helpless.
And somewhere deep down, I hated that I wanted to protect him more than I wanted to yell at him.
When we finally reached my car, he sank into the passenger seat, silent. I stared at him, heart twisting. "…You really are unbelievable," I muttered.
"…Maybe," he whispered, almost too quietly. "…But I'm glad you're here."
I didn't answer, just started the car. But inside, I knew I'd never forget the way he looked — scared, small, and trusting me in a way that made my chest ache.