The Distance That Lingers

I took the spoon without thinking and looked up at him.

He pointed at the dishes laid out in front of me himself.

“If you don’t have an appetite, at least eat some porridge.”

“Thank… you.”

Since he personally urged me, pretending otherwise felt awkward.

What had I even said to the person who prepared all this?

There were several kinds of porridge alone.

I set down my chopsticks, adjusted my grip on the spoon, and scooped up a full bite of pumpkin porridge.

The chewy rice balls inside were soft and sweet.

I swallowed smoothly and took another spoonful.

Only then did his gaze, which had been fixed on my hand, finally shift away.

As he resumed eating, I glanced at him quietly, trying not to make it obvious.

Then, slowly, I lowered my other hand to my thigh.

Feeling oddly self-conscious, my fingers kept twitching restlessly.

Instead, I clenched my fist tightly and released it.

Are all alphas like this?

Was it because of rut… or because of the bond?

He was excessively gentle.

Sweet, even.

Like the pumpkin porridge I had just swallowed.

Thinking that, I kept eating in silence.

Then suddenly, a thought crossed my mind.

“Are you alright, Director?”

“Me?”

“I was wondering if it’s… not enough.”

“If I wanted, I could continue. But since we’ve bonded once, it’s better now.”

I didn’t have the courage to ask further.

Taking any more would be too much,

and I didn’t want to imagine him seeking someone else because it wasn’t enough.

Even if it could happen somewhere I couldn’t see,

I didn’t want to confirm that suspicion by asking.

After the meal, I washed up and got dressed again.

When I stepped out, he looked at me quietly before walking closer.

He stopped right in front of me and adjusted my collar, briefly holding my tie.

The fabric slipped softly between his fingers.

Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I asked anyway,

not wanting to break the moment.

“Should I… stay again tonight?”

“I’d like that too, but…”

He trailed off, picking up the end of my tie again and absentmindedly playing with it.

It seemed he had work.

I wasn’t embarrassed by the refusal.

I expected it.

“I’ll drive you.”

“I can go myself.”

“Come on.”

My words were ignored completely.

Truthfully, I wasn’t in the best condition to go on my own anyway,

so I followed him to the parking lot and got into the passenger seat.

It was a low sports car with doors that lifted upward.

I couldn’t quite remember the name.

As the engine roared loudly, I found myself thinking—

he says he doesn’t care about cars,

but he clearly does.

The late weekend roads were clear,

so the drive ended quickly.

Even to me, who didn’t drive often,

it was obvious that other cars kept their distance.

That made the road feel even more open.

I was about to get off near the bus stop,

but he kept driving silently.

Eventually, as we went up the narrow, winding road,

he muttered,

“Why is your place so high up?”

“Your house is high up too.”

He fell silent for a moment, then laughed lightly.

“That’s true.”

We stopped at a small traffic light.

A child holding their mother’s hand crossed the road,

raising their free hand high.

“Want to take one of my unused cars?”

What kind of car would that even be?

It felt too much to even ask.

And more than maintenance—

there was another issue.

“There’s nowhere to park near my building.”

“….”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, saying nothing.

Soon, my building came into view.

A few local men were exercising at the park nearby.

At least it wasn’t summer—

they weren’t in sleeveless shirts.

The convenience store,

the students walking by,

even the men at the park—

all their attention drifted toward his car.

When the car stopped, I hesitated.

Getting out under all those gazes felt burdensome.

But I couldn’t stay inside forever.

I bowed my head slightly.

“Thank you for bringing me.”

“Yeah. Be grateful.”

It was unexpected—

he sounded almost teasing.

“I didn’t want to bring you, so you should be grateful.”

“I could’ve come myself.”

“No. I didn’t want to let you go at all.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I don’t, today.”

“Then…”

“I’m worried you might collapse. Go on.”

I gripped the door handle tightly,

but couldn’t open it right away.

Not because of the people watching—

but because of something stuck in my throat.

He tilted his head, watching me.

“Something to say?”

“No.”

“Looks like there is.”

“…I was just wondering if you’re going back to the officetel.”

“I’ll head to my place in Seongbuk-dong. Change clothes, visit the chairman, get scolded a bit. Then family plans for the weekend.”

“I see.”

“Want to come with me?”

He smiled lightly, clearly amused.

Then he reached out, ruffling my hair before smoothing it back into place.

In the narrow space, our eyes met.

For a moment, I almost said yes.

I didn’t have any plans anyway.

But as I swallowed,

his smile faded slightly.

“At this rate, I might really take you with me. Go on.”

“Yes. I’ll see you next week.”

Fortunately, I still had the deodorizing spray I kept in my jacket pocket.

Even though I was going straight home, just in case.

I sprayed it lightly,

then bowed my head one last time before stepping out.

His gaze lingered until the door closed.

Ignoring the curious stares,

I quickly entered my building.

Only when I reached my door did I realize—

I had run out of water and other necessities.

The men in the park were probably still there.

Maybe I’d go out later at night.

Inside, I glanced around the room.

Everything was the same—

the streetlights,

the park,

the convenience store,

the bus climbing the slope.

And in the middle of it all—

his car was still there.

That alone made everything look different.

I leaned slightly out the window to check.

It was his car.

He hadn’t left yet.

Then, suddenly aware he might see me,

I stepped back inside.

I wanted to look—

but I didn’t want him to see my expression.

The next morning, I woke up earlier than expected.

After lying in bed for a while,

I got up to grab water—

only to remember I hadn’t bought any.

Scratching the back of my neck,

I quickly showered and went out.

Wearing slippers, shorts, and a t-shirt,

the air felt cooler than expected.

As I stepped outside,

the quiet struck me.

No one heading to work or school.

The playground was still,

the tables by the convenience store empty.

A stray cat wandered past before disappearing.

And where his car had been—

another car was parked now.

I passed by, pulling my shoulders in slightly.

Carrying water back upstairs,

my body felt… off.

The lingering sensation made itself known again.

As if reminding me clearly

how much I had taken in.

I shook my head lightly,

glad no one could see my thoughts.

Even so, I felt embarrassed.

Every movement felt unfamiliar.

When I bent down to put the water away,

I froze from the strain.

My lower body protested immediately.

How was I supposed to deal with this on a weekday?

Muttering to myself, I carefully knelt instead.

Even that left me slightly out of breath.

Wiping my forehead,

I realized I was already tired.

My stamina had clearly dropped.

Standing up, I stretched my shoulders—

then suddenly groaned.

“The spray…”

I had forgotten it earlier.

Maybe the convenience store clerk didn’t notice—

or maybe they did and just didn’t understand.

After washing up again,

I grabbed the spray and used it.

In the mirror,

my damp hair clung to my face.

My skin still slightly flushed.

A faint sting near my nose made me flinch.

Was it just physical exhaustion?

Or something else?

Thinking about what he had said about calling a doctor,

I lay back on the bed.

Then I picked up my phone.

Messages piled up—

from work,

from friends,

from people I rarely heard from.

After replying to all of them,

only one message remained.

From my sister.