Taeha stood by the glass near the office window, staring down at the city below.
He tried to focus on the next case. Tried to care about the upcoming client meeting.
But his mind kept circling back to the boy who once blushed while handing him a note folded into perfect squares.
The same boy who now stood with his shirt half open in a hotel suite, refusing to look him in the eye.
He felt sick.
Not because of Hamin's job.
But because he had helped push him toward a future like that.
And worst of all—
Part of him still wanted to touch him.
Even now.
That evening Madam Jisoo called Hamin through phone, her tone gentle yet firm. "You don't have to come in tonight," she said, her usually sharp voice softening. "Get some rest. Eat something real for once, not just coffee and painkillers."
Hamin gave a polite nod. "Okay. Thank you, ma'am."
He didn't argue. He knew when she meant it.
Later that day, dressed in a loose hoodie and jeans that hung off his slim frame, Hamin stepped out to grab some food. The wind was light, brushing his dyed brown hair out of his eyes. As he turned the corner near the stairwell of his apartment building, a glint of paper caught his eye — a crumpled business card, flattened against the concrete, dirt smudged along its edges.
He hesitated.
Kneeling, he picked it up and flattened it with his palm. The card was unmistakable:
Seo Taeha
Associate Attorney – Han & Jung Law Firm
Seoul Bar Association Member
Hamin stared at the name. His lips parted as if to scoff, but the sound never came. He just sighed. It was ridiculous how that name still sparked something in his chest — anger, confusion, ache. It wasn't even the same boy who once told him his existence was "disgusting."
Just then, his phone buzzed.
Sunghoon.
The only person who really knew him.
"Yo," Sunghoon's voice chimed through. "You good? Heard you had Director Han last night."
Hamin leaned against a wall, the card still in his hand. "Yeah… It wasn't the worst. He was rough, but I've had worse."
"Shit," Sunghoon muttered. "That guy gives me the creeps. Heard he's got an arrangement with Madam Jisoo?"
"Yeah. Whenever there's a legal issue, she calls his firm. They've known each other for years."
They talked for a bit — casual banter, Sunghoon's ridiculous stories from the other night — and by the time the call ended, the sky was already turning orange.
Without really thinking about it, Hamin slid Taeha's card into the pocket of his hoodie. He told himself he'd throw it away later.
Later, under the faint glow of a broken streetlight, Seo Taeha sat inside his car, parked just far enough to remain unnoticed but close enough to watch.
He wasn't sure what he was doing there. He'd told himself it was coincidence, but the truth sat heavy in his chest.
There was Hamin.
Limping slightly.
Carrying a small plastic bag from the convenience store.
Alone again.
Taeha's eyes followed every slow step up the cracked concrete stairs. He noticed the bandage peeking out from beneath Hamin's collar. The way he seemed to drag one foot behind the other. He didn't notice Taeha's presence — and Taeha didn't make a move.
He just stayed there.
Watching.
Thinking.