Chapter 49: CH 49

“If you don’t do anything about it, your gums will get inflamed, and you’ll get a headache. We don’t even have fever-reducing meds here.”

I thought I finally got a proper answer out of him, but Woorim suddenly took his shirt off. He must have woken up to Goyeon’s scream because he was still wearing a cotton t-shirt and track pants. His abs above the waistband of his blank pants caught my eye.

“Why are you taking your shirt off?”

“Then should I take my pants off? Isn’t that too soon for us?”

I had asked in surprise, but he replied with a calm and composed face while wetting his shirt with water. The stream of water was too thin to evenly wet the shirt, so he kneaded his shirt with both hands. The flexion of his arms showed off his forearm muscles.

“You need to cool down the swelling.”

Even when he was wearing the loose t-shirt, I thought that male idols these days had well-built bodies. But when the flimsy covering was taken off, exposing his bare body, I realized that my imagination was severely lacking. I heard that people with pretty bodies were most beautiful when they were naked, and Woorim seemed to be the prime example.

On top of his tight abdomen muscles and his lean but sturdy waist, the fanned-out muscles of his sides beneath his armpits accentuated his broad shoulders and pectoral muscles that created his inverted triangular torso. In addition, his collarbones formed a deep trench, and his back muscles rippled with every arm movement.

Despite that, he didn’t flex on purpose, his proportionate and built muscles were apparent; both the same and opposite s*xes would undoubtedly look upon them with envious eyes. His youthful and well-maintained physique was not often possessed by those around me. Looking at him, I fell silent and simply stared.

Why was he unpopular again?

The question poked its head out again. All he needed to do was strip his shirt on stage. He was the vocal member of the group, so he couldn’t be that bad at singing. As my thoughts trailed off, my mind once again drifted to Yeonseon.

I remembered how annoyed Yeonseon was at popularity.

“What’s the matter?” Woorim turned around to meet my eyes, feeling my gaze. As our eyes met, I suddenly felt embarrassed for standing so dumbstruck.

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“Well…” I trailed off and looked away. Unfortunately, the room was so small that the objects that entered my vision were limited. What lay at the end of my line of sight was the old fridge, for example. “I didn’t know there would be a fridge that still worked down here.”

“It’s not working all that well. It’s not that cold. The inside is almost the same as room temperature and the freezer is cool, but it doesn’t seem like it’ll freeze anything,” Woorim replied as he placed his wet t-shirt in the freezer. He casually dried his hands on his pants and walked toward me. “I’ll give my shirt to you once it’s chilled, so use it on your cheek. Let’s look for the key after that.”

“…Thank you.” I always felt burdened when someone I wasn’t close to was overly generous. It was the same story even if they weren’t overly kind; I felt bothered even by the generosity of a close one.

When I met kind and gentle people, I became afraid. The first question that came to mind was, “Why is that person being so nice to me?” Then, that multiplied into thoughts like, “No matter how nice they are, I can’t give anything back in return.” I began to feel uncomfortable just being in the same room as them. I grew scared that the other party would become disappointed in me before finally hating me. In that case, I would rather be alone.

Yeonseon always pitied me for that. He told me that it was because I was unfamiliar with the goodwill of others. He felt bad about my past that turned me into a person who was unfamiliar with the kindness and generosity of others.

Rather, I preferred it when others used poorly masked kindness to hide their schemes. That was exactly the case for Woorim—I could honestly and frankly give my thanks. If Yeonseon were like that, maybe I could have told him my honest feelings before he died without having to regret it afterward.

“Could I ask you something?” Woorim asked, leaning against the wall next to me. He added that it was fine if I didn’t want to answer. That probably meant that he was going to ask something that was difficult for me to answer.

“I know that you and Goyeon fought. But even so, do you really want to clean up after her? Oh, but if that’s what you want, it doesn’t matter to me, but you have no reason to step forward so actively. Did you feel slightly guilty that you couldn’t stop Goyeon, or…?”

“I do feel a bit guilty.” I cut Woorim off mid-sentence. “But it’s not the kind of guilt you’re thinking of. It’s about something more deep-seated than that.”

“…Deep-seated…”

The warmth of his upper body as he stood next to me transferred to me. Maybe it was because he wasn’t wearing his shirt, but the heat radiating from his body felt hotter than usual. Like a snail curling up to avoid the sun, I hugged the thin, rolled-up sheets closer to my body.

The smell of dust from the old sheets wasn’t unfamiliar even though they were sheets that I had seen for the first time.

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