The morning was cool and clear. Minjun woke up with a gentle smile - Hyuk was still dozing beside him, his breathing even and deep. The omega carefully slipped out of the warm embrace, trying not to wake him, and tiptoed to get ready for his part-time job.
On the kitchen table, a note in a short, familiar handwriting was waiting for him: "Take your scarf with you. I'll pick you up in the evening. - H." A neatly folded scarf and a small container of gimbap, made the night before, lay beside it. Minjun's gaze lingered for a moment, his heart warming - all these small details were acts of care.
He put on the scarf, slung his bag over his shoulder, and left the apartment. The walk to the library took him through quiet streets: shops were just opening, the smell of fresh bread wafted from a bakery, and the cool air was a pleasant jolt to his skin. Minjun walked calmly, but a slight tremor ran through him - he was still living in the memory of Hyuk's words from the day before.
The library was quiet. The scent of old paper, the rustle of pages, the gentle creak of chairs - all of it created a cozy, almost meditative atmosphere. Minjun organized books on the shelves, processed returns, and occasionally helped students find the right edition. His movements were focused, but a soft warmth remained inside: every touch of the pages reminded him of stability, of how his life was slowly filling with true meaning.
When the clock showed it was time for his lunch break, he stepped out into the library's courtyard. Old wooden benches sat here, and the branches of maple trees reached for the sky, scattering red and yellow leaves on the ground. Minjun sat down, took out the container of gimbap, and thoughtfully took the first bite. The food tasted especially delicious precisely because Hyuk had made it for him.
He smiled to himself, listening to the gentle breeze. A sense of calm spread through his chest: for the first time in a long while, he felt that he had a foundation.
It was at that exact moment that a black car pulled into the courtyard. The dark windows glinted in the sun, and Minjun's heart gave an anxious lurch. The car stopped right at the entrance. The door opened, and a familiar man in a sharp suit got out, straightening up.
It was his father's secretary.
"Minjun-ssi," the voice was even and emotionless, yet it held a certain firmness. "Your father is waiting for you. I've come to take you to him."
A second felt like an eternity. The container of gimbap remained open on his lap, and Minjun's fingers trembled. The wind seemed to intensify, running coldly over his skin. All the calm he had held onto for the past few days crumbled like a house of cards.
He clenched his hands, trying to keep his breathing steady.
"Now...?" he asked quietly, even though the answer was obvious.
The secretary nodded.
A wave of dread rose inside him. Minjun quickly gathered his things, trying not to show his distress. His gaze darted to the phone in his pocket - he wanted to text Hyuk, to warn him, but his fingers couldn't bring themselves to pull it out.
He stood up and walked toward the car.
As the door closed behind him, the library courtyard seemed especially distant and quiet. Everything that had given him peace just a minute ago - the smell of books, the taste of gimbap, the gentle wind - vanished, leaving only the cold anticipation of a meeting from which there was no escape.