Page 86 of Scarbound

Dr. Kim shook her head. “No.”

Noeul looked at her.

“One day,” Dr. Kim said quietly, “you became the person she blamed.”

CHAPTER 33

In the days that followed, they went out more often, sometimes to play chess, other times for a meal or a drink. Chung-Hee never mentioned the cemetery again. He simply filled the silence with ordinary moments, and Noeul slowly began to look forward to them, though he still refused to think too deeply about what that meant.

“I have a little something for you, but it’s at my place. Want to come with me?” Chung-Hee asked as they got into the car after lunch at one of his favorite restaurants.

Noeul’s eyes widened in surprise.

“A gift? For me? But you already paid for lunch. That’s too much, hyung.”

“It’s an original piece of art from a friend. I thought you’d appreciate it more than I do,” Chung-Hee said playfully, flashing a mischievous smile. “But if you don’t like it, I can always put it away.”

“Don’t you dare treat a painting like an old piece of furniture.” Noeul laughed. “I’ll take it! Definitely taking it!”

His excitement made Chung-Hee chuckle.

The moment his eyes landed on it, he stopped in the middle of Chung-Hee’s living room and simply stared.

Fumage. His favorite technique.

And not just any painting. An original by Sora, one of his favorite Korean artists.

For several seconds, he forgot Chung-Hee was even there.

“Hyung…” Noeul finally whispered. “How?”

He moved closer to the painting, studying the smoke-created forms, his expression almost childlike in its fascination. “It’s like you knew Sora is one of my favorite artists.”

Chung-Hee didn’t look at the painting. He watched Noeul instead: every movement, every change in his expression, the way his eyes traveled across the canvas, the faint smile appearing whenever he discovered another detail.

“Sora is a friend,” Chung-Hee explained. “She sent it as a thank-you for my help. I knew you’d appreciate it. Probably more than I do.”

Noeul turned toward him.

“It’s yours now.”

Noeul blinked. “Mine?”

“Yours.” Chung-Hee smiled. “I can’t wait to see it on your wall next time I visit.”

For a moment, Noeul didn’t know what to say. The gift wasn’t merely expensive. Chung-Hee had remembered what he loved.

After everything between them—the anger, the guilt, the cemetery, the strange peace they had somehow found afterward—that simple realization affected him more than he wanted it to.

“Thank you,” he whispered, giving a small bow. “I’ll treasure it like a jewel, hyung.”

Something in Chung-Hee’s expression changed. He moved closer.

Noeul noticed but didn’t step away.

Chung-Hee stopped in front of him, close enough that Noeul could smell his cologne. His right hand slowly rose to the back of Noeul’s head while the other settled against his waist.

Noeul’s breath caught.