Lingering Warmth

“Shall I contact your doctor?”

“It’s not that serious.”

“Then come here.”

The moment I shifted my arm to adjust my posture, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into his embrace.

We had ended up like this before, but never this carefully.

As I settled onto his lap, I heard him click his tongue and mutter softly near my ear.

Even his voice had lowered noticeably.

“If you run away like that right after finishing, how do you think I’d feel?”

So my suspicion had been right.

I processed his words slowly through my hazy mind and adjusted my position again.

Sitting on his broad thighs, I felt the dampness beneath me and along his leg, making me frown.

He pressed his palm against my lower abdomen, but when he noticed my expression, his face turned serious again.

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s just… leaking.”

“That’s a relief.”

It didn’t feel like much of a relief, but I didn’t think explaining would help.

I shifted slightly, then stopped.

I was too exhausted to even move a finger.

As his palm gently warmed and soothed me, sleepiness crept in.

I only meant to lean my temple lightly against his shoulder—

but for a moment, everything faded.

When I forced my eyes open again, he was looking down at me while adjusting his hold.

“Sleep. I’ll take care of things.”

I should have said I’d manage,

but I was too tired to speak.

I only managed a faint nod.

His hand pressed lightly at the back of my neck, guiding my head down to rest against him.

Then a strange floating sensation followed—

as if I were slipping somewhere deeper than sleep.

When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if it was morning or midday.

I lifted my head weakly and stared at the plain white wall in front of me.

There was no clock.

It felt deliberate.

Was this room meant only for… that purpose?

After lying there too long, I bent my knees to shift positions—

only to grimace from the discomfort.

A breath escaped me.

The room was empty.

No clock.

No sign of him.

Seeing the neatly cleared space beside me made irritation rise.

At least he could have said he was leaving.

Turning my gaze toward the door, I frowned.

After forcing myself upright, I glanced down at my chest.

The faint soreness made sense—

my skin still flushed from the night before.

When I pressed lightly, warmth lingered.

That only made me more annoyed.

Just as I stared at the door again, it suddenly opened.

Startled, I looked up.

He stood there in casual clothes, holding a cup of coffee.

Our eyes met.

“What were you staring at so intensely?”

“N-nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing. Thought I left?”

“You usually do.”

“I don’t leave someone like that and walk away.”

Wasn’t the real issue that someone could end up like this after just one night?

Though last night… couldn’t exactly be called just that.

As I shifted uncomfortably, he sat at the edge of the bed and handed me the coffee.

I accepted it instinctively.

“Should I clean up?”

He looked at me like I’d said something absurd.

“I brought it for you to drink.”

“Thank you.”

Holding it with both hands, I finally noticed the warmth and aroma.

Even though I usually preferred iced coffee, I didn’t say anything.

I took a small sip.

My mouth felt dry, but I didn’t really feel like eating.

Then suddenly—

“Ah… work…”

“I’ve already contacted them. Told them to treat it as a business trip.”

“Ah… okay.”

As I sat there holding the cup, he sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead.

“What exactly do you take me for?”

“I don’t understand…”

“You thought I left.”

“You usually do.”

“…Honestly.”

He took the coffee back from my hand.

I watched curiously as he brought it to his lips instead.

The shadow along his sharp features made his expression seem deeper.

I sat there silently until he set the cup down again.

“Are you sure you don’t need your doctor?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Doesn’t seem so.”

He held my bare shoulder carefully, as if I might break.

The gentle touch made my face heat up instead.

“You don’t have to worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“If it gets worse, I’ll let you know. It’s better than going to the hospital anyway.”

After that, silence fell between us.

I wasn’t in any condition to stand,

and I decided not to ask who had taken care of me.

It was better not to know.

He sat there, quietly turning the coffee cup in his hands.

After a moment, I asked carefully,

“Aren’t you leaving?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No. I just thought you might be busy.”

“I’m free today.”

Setting the cup aside, he shrugged lightly.

He really did seem more relaxed than usual.

“With rut, there’s not much choice.”

“Then I’ll—”

I tried to stand,

but the moment I put weight on my foot, I froze.

Every muscle protested—

from my calves to my thighs, to my abdomen.

There wasn’t a single part that didn’t ache.

Even inside, where everything should have settled, it still hurt.

Noticing, he quickly supported me and sat me back down.

Even that slight movement made me wince.

“Rest before you go.”

“But—”

“Hmm?”

His lips brushed mine faintly, carrying the same coffee scent.

Before I knew it, I was lying back down again.

Pride didn’t matter right now.

After settling me properly, he stepped out of the room.

For a moment, I thought he had left—

but he returned with a laptop and sat beside me again.

Leaning back against the headboard, he began typing.

His thigh was close to my face, leaving me unsure where to look.

Then suddenly, his hand covered my eyes.

“Don’t worry about anything. Just sleep.”

“…Okay.”

As if that were easy.

But the warmth of his hand made drowsiness come quickly.

The sound of typing became a steady lullaby.

His hand resting lightly on my forehead soothed my senses.

Then something came to mind.

“Ah.”

“What is it?”

“The suppressant…”

“That?”

His fingers brushed lightly over my eyelids.

“You don’t need it right now.”

“But still…”

“It’s fine.”

He was right.

I wasn’t going anywhere.

Or rather—I couldn’t.

I felt a slight tickle beneath my chin.

Peeking down, I saw him resting his face against my neck.

His lips brushed lightly there, but I pretended not to notice.

Soon, sleep took over again.

I drifted in and out,

occasionally noticing he hadn’t moved at all.

Only I kept shifting, trying to ease the discomfort.

Each time, his hand would return—

steady, reassuring.

At some point, while lying face down,

his hand moved slowly along my back.

“Let’s eat something.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s almost dinner.”

So much time had passed?

Looking around, I saw the lights were on.

What I thought was a short rest had become an entire day.

Sitting up, I noticed the dining table outside—

covered with food.

“Isn’t this too much?”

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got everything.”

“I don’t need help walking.”

I gently stopped him from supporting me and walked out.

Sitting at the table, I saw plates covering nearly the entire surface.

Oddly, despite not eating all day, I had little appetite.

I took a sip of the drink in front of me.

It was sweet, sour—complex.

Omija tea, maybe.

After a moment, I picked up my chopsticks and tried something.

The sushi melted softly, the flavor clean and rich.

As I ate quietly, his hand reached across the table—

placing something in my other hand.

A spoon.