CHAPTER 44 #2
Something flickered across Chung-Hee’s face. Noeul saw it. So did Kija.
Chung-Hee pulled Noeul toward the door, but Kija stepped between them.
“Stop.”
Chung-Hee looked at him.
“Nothing inappropriate happened,” Kija said. “We talked about art. Ji-Woo’s portfolio. Noeul’s paintings.”
“He doesn’t need private lessons with you.”
“That isn’t your decision.”
Chung-Hee’s gaze sharpened. “I saw how you looked at him.”
Kija went quiet. Noeul closed his eyes briefly.
Of course.
Kija didn’t deny it. “I won’t pretend I wasn’t drawn to him,” he said after a moment. “He’s beautiful.”
Noeul’s cheeks flushed despite everything.
“But I did nothing.” Kija looked directly at Chung-Hee. “And now that I know there is something between you, whatever it is, I won’t cross that line.”
Chung-Hee remained silent. Something dark moved beneath his composure.
Jealousy. Fear. Possession.
Even he no longer seemed able to tell where one ended and another began.
“Let’s go,” he repeated, pulling again.
“No.”
Noeul shoved his hand away. The movement surprised all three of them.
Noeul’s voice trembled, but not from fear this time. “This is about Ji-Woo.” He gestured toward the portfolio. “And Haneul.”
Chung-Hee’s face changed slightly at his brother’s name.
“I need this,” Noeul continued. “I want this. Do you understand?”
Chung-Hee said nothing.
“You always misunderstand me. Back then and now. Everyone assumes the worst.” His eyes filled. “I didn’t come here to find another man. I came for advice. For knowledge.”
He pointed toward the photographs on the table. “I’m trying to help my brother get into university. I’m trying to do something with the paintings I made for Haneul.” His voice broke. “For once, I’m trying to build something instead of destroy it.”
The room went silent.
Noeul swallowed hard. “If you don’t trust me, then stay. Sit there. Watch us.”
A pause.
“But I’m not leaving.”
His voice became quieter. “I need this exhibition.”
For half a second, Chung-Hee’s hand fell away.
Relief moved through Noeul. Chung-Hee understood.
Noeul had come for Ji-Woo and Haneul, not for Kija.
But understanding removed the justification for control without removing his need for it.
When Noeul still refused to obey, Chung-Hee chose authority over the truth.
Then came the sharp crack.
Pain exploded across his face. Noeul stumbled and fell hard against the floor. For several seconds, he didn’t understand what had happened. His cheek burned. His ears rang.
He slowly looked up.
Chung-Hee had slapped him.
Again.
“I told you,” Chung-Hee said coldly, “you do not disrespect me.”
Kija didn’t move. He simply stared. The man standing in front of him did not look like the Chung-Hee he knew.
Noeul remained on the floor. Shame burned hotter than the pain in his face. Being hurt in private had been unbearable.
But this was different. Someone had seen. Someone outside the family. Someone Noeul admired. The humiliation had nowhere to hide.
Chung-Hee reached down and grabbed him by the hair.
Kija moved immediately. “Chung-Hee, stop!”
Noeul cried out as Chung-Hee pulled him upright.
“You’ve misunderstood everything,” Kija said. “Let him go.”
“This is between me and Noeul.” Chung-Hee shoved Kija back with one arm. “Stay out of it.”
Kija steadied himself. “You’re hurting him.”
Chung-Hee’s grip remained firm.
Kija stared at him. “Is this how you treat someone you claim to love?”
“When he disobeys,” Chung-Hee replied flatly, “there are consequences.”
Kija’s expression hardened.
“No.”
The word came out quietly, then more firmly.
“No, Hee. What the hell are you doing?”
“This doesn’t concern you.”
“It concerns me when you come into my home and hurt someone in front of me.” Kija stepped closer. “And especially when he was right.”
Chung-Hee’s eyes narrowed.
“He came here for Ji-Woo. For Haneul.” Kija pointed toward the photographs. “At least look at the paintings before you decide what story you want to believe.”
For several seconds, Chung-Hee didn’t move. Then he released Noeul. Noeul immediately stepped away from him.
“Five minutes,” Chung-Hee said.
Kija stared at him. “What?”
“Five minutes.” Chung-Hee looked toward Noeul. “After that, there will be no more private contact between you two. Anything that needs to happen will go through me or San.”
Noeul didn’t answer.
“I asked you something.”
Still nothing.
“Noeul.”
Noeul looked at him.
The humiliation had settled somewhere deeper than tears. Chung-Hee had struck him in front of another person because Noeul had refused to obey.
Not because he had done something wrong. Not because of Haneul. Not because of Gong.
Because he had said no.
Kija watched him carefully. The young man who had been excitedly taking notes only minutes earlier now stood rigid and pale, his cheek red, his eyes distant.
“Noeul…”
Noeul turned away from Chung-Hee and gathered Ji-Woo’s portfolio first, then the photographs of his own paintings. His hands shook slightly.
Kija moved as though to help him. Noeul stepped back. The gesture stopped him.
Noeul took a breath and turned toward Kija. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home, Kija. Thank you for spending your time helping Ji-Woo. And thank you for letting me meet one of my favorite artists properly.”
Noeul tried to smile. It didn’t quite work.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to tell you about the new technique I’ve been learning.”
“Noeul, you don’t have to leave.”
Noeul looked at him.
Kija continued. “You can stay here.” His gaze moved toward Chung-Hee. “He can leave.”
Chung-Hee’s expression darkened.
Kija ignored him. “You don’t have to go anywhere with him.”
For a moment, Noeul simply stared. Something about the sentence seemed almost incomprehensible.
He could stay.
Chung-Hee could leave.
Someone else was saying it. Someone else had seen what happened and still believed Noeul had a choice.
Noeul’s throat tightened, but he shook his head. “I want to go.”
Kija nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Noeul bowed. “Thank you.”
He turned toward Chung-Hee.
“I don’t need your permission.”
Chung-Hee went still.
Noeul’s voice became colder. “And I don’t need your false kindness either.”
He walked toward the door.
Chung-Hee immediately moved to follow, but Kija caught his arm.
“No.”
Chung-Hee turned sharply.
Kija didn’t release him. “Let him go.”
“He’s upset.”
“Yes.” Kija’s gaze hardened. “Because of you.”
Chung-Hee tried to pull away, but Kija tightened his grip.
“We need to talk.”
The door closed behind Noeul.