That thought followed Minjun all morning. He walked down the street, clutching the strap of his backpack, his heart pounding as if more depended on it than just a part-time job. For the first time in his life, he would earn money on his own, however little. Everything about it felt new: the idea of working, the responsibility, the people he would have to face.
He pictured the library beforehand: quiet halls, the scent of paper and wood, neat rows of books. A place with no shouting, no indifference, nothing like his parents' home. There, he imagined, he could find his own rhythm - calm and steady.
***
The library greeted him just as he had imagined. Tall windows let in gentle light, shelves stretched to the ceiling, and fine dust shimmered in the beams like golden mist. The scent of old pages, faintly spicy and dry, calmed him at once.
The manager, a short man with glasses, spoke quickly but without pressure - showing him the catalogs, the returns desk, and the shelves where new books needed arranging. Minjun listened carefully, nodding.
"If you get lost, don't hesitate to ask," the man said at the end.
Minjun thanked him and was left alone among the rows. He let his fingers trail over the spines of the books. The firm cardboard, the rough cloth bindings, the smooth covers stamped in gold - it all filled him with the sense that he was exactly where he belonged.
***
The first tasks were simple: alphabetize books and carry a few boxes to the far shelves. He worked slowly, but carefully, making sure everything lined up neatly.
At one point, a boy of about eight approached, clutching a worn library card.
"Excuse me… I need a book about dragons."
Minjun faltered, then quickly gathered himself. He remembered where he'd seen the mythology section and led the boy there. The child's wide eyes seemed to trust that this new worker would find exactly what he needed. Minjun pulled down a book with a bright green dragon on the cover and handed it over.
"Here. This one has both stories and pictures."
"Thank you!" the boy beamed, and warmth spread through Minjun's chest.
For the first time, he didn't feel useless. A small action, but it had helped someone else.
***
Later, a noisy group of students came in, laughing and talking too loud. One of them dropped a crooked stack of books onto the return desk on purpose.
Minjun's chest tightened. Normally, he would have stayed silent. But now, this was his place. His responsibility. He took a deep breath and said quietly, yet firmly:
"Please stack them properly. Someone could knock them over."
The students exchanged looks. One scoffed, but corrected the pile. Minjun's hands trembled, yet inside a quiet pride stirred: he had done it. Small as it was, he had defended order.
***
During his break, he pulled out his phone and messaged Hyuk:
"First day. A little scary, but interesting."
The reply came almost immediately:
"Proud of you. Don't forget to eat."
Minjun smiled and closed his eyes. Even a short message from Hyuk seemed to warm the air around him. He recalled the calm, steady trace of Hyuk's pheromones, and his heart raced.
***
By evening, he was exhausted - but it was a different kind of exhaustion. A good kind. The books were neatly stacked, the shelves filled, and within him lingered the quiet satisfaction of a small victory: he had done it himself.
At the library's exit, he spotted a familiar figure. Hyuk leaned casually against the railing, a bag in hand.
"You look like you just ran a marathon," he said evenly. "Here, catch."
Inside the bag: a cold bottle of water and a chocolate bar. Minjun flushed, but as soon as he took it, his tense muscles eased.
"How was it?" Hyuk asked.
Minjun nodded, unable to hide a small smile.
"I… managed. I even helped a kid find a book."
"See?" Hyuk said, his voice calm, approving without excess praise.
They walked side by side. The city slid into dusk: one by one, streetlights flickered on, shops closed, cafés spilled the smell of coffee and bread into the air.
Minjun felt his steps grow lighter. The evening air was cool and fresh, and Hyuk walked beside him - tall, steady, never overbearing. His presence seemed to push all anxieties aside.
"That job suits you," Hyuk said after a pause. "You love order. Books can feel it."
Minjun flushed, turning toward a shop window. His chest quivered, like from a touch.
They reached a small park. Benches rested under streetlights, shadows stretching long. Hyuk suggested they sit.
Minjun inhaled the crisp air, listening to the rustle of leaves. He felt Hyuk's gaze on him, and between them settled that special silence again - not awkward, but filled with something unspoken.
He didn't know what to call it. But at that moment, it was enough just to sit there, breathing in the faint, familiar scent of the alpha - subtle, gentle, and already too close to home.
For the first time, the world didn't feel so frightening.
***
They sat for a long time, talking about small things: books, plans, tomorrow. And it was those small things that made the evening special. For the first time, Minjun felt like he was building a life of his own - not imposed on him, but chosen.