WTFUDLS 77

Chapter 77

“…What is?”

Hansol swallowed dryly. His heart was pounding. What does he know? What is he about to say? No way… there’s no way he noticed something.

Of course not… right?
But the worst surprises tend to happen when you think that.

It felt like ages before Noeul opened his mouth again. What would come out of it? Hansol was on edge. If Noeul knew what Hansol really felt, he’d never be able to lift his head from embarrassment. If Noeul knew Hansol had stuck to his side with such a petty, selfish motive—and had just let it slide—
Hansol honestly felt like he might die.

“Such a pathetic asshole.”

Noeul said this while staring out at the Han River.
Hansol’s eyes shook violently.

“…Isn’t that what you were thinking?”

Noeul turned his head toward Hansol and continued. Hansol had no idea what he was talking about.

“…Huh?”

Hansol blinked.

“…Wasn’t that it?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“I thought you were about to say something about what happened at lunch earlier. With Jiwoo.”

“Lunch?”

Hansol slowly realized what Noeul meant. He was talking about the moment at the burger place when he and Jiwoo kept glancing at each other and could barely eat.
Hansol had been nagging Noeul all this time with stuff like “Jiwoo likes you,” “stop avoiding him,” “trust his feelings.”
So of course Noeul must’ve thought he dragged him to the river to nag about that again.

Hansol felt relieved.
At least Noeul hadn’t suspected anything about his real feelings.
Better to play along like Noeul’s guess was correct.

“You figured it out?”

Hansol said with fake confidence.

“The vibe was so obvious. You suddenly want to come to the Han River… so I thought you were going to say something serious.”

So Noeul had been thinking that this whole time?
Even while laughing and joking with Hansol?
Thinking, When is Hansol going to bring up Jiwoo again?

Hansol let out a laugh.
They really were living in completely different stories.

He thought Noeul would at least think about him a little—
Not necessarily romantically, but maybe something like This guy is fun to be around.

“But… everything you said before is right. I’m drowning in paranoia. I’m acting like a complete idiot doing nothing. I know I’m supposed to take at least a tiny bit of courage. But… I just can’t.”

Noeul continued.

Hansol felt strange hearing it.
He also felt relieved that Noeul wouldn’t suddenly go confessing to Jiwoo.
Then all Hansol had to do was make sure Jiwoo didn’t confess first. A simple calculation.

Hansol nodded.

“So yeah… I know it’s pathetic and frustrating as hell… but just—just think, ‘What a hopeless idiot,’ and let me be.
But I won’t act all ambiguous with Jiwoo like I’m about to date him or something. I’ll make it clear I just want to stay friends.
…Yeah. I’ll probably regret it later. Regret it like crazy. Wonder why I acted like that. Why I pushed away someone like Jiwoo when someone like me would never catch his attention again. Yeah, I’ll regret it.
So you can just make fun of me then. Okay? How’s that? Not a bad deal, right?”

He said it like he was offering negotiation terms.
Hansol gave a bitter smile.

How was he supposed to feel about this?
Was he supposed to be relieved that Noeul wanted to stay friends with Jiwoo?
Or sad because it meant Noeul thought Jiwoo was so far above him that he didn’t dare accept him?

The miserable part was this—
whether the thoughts were happy or sad, Noeul’s entire mind was filled with Jiwoo.
Hansol didn’t occupy even a corner of it.
Hansol inspired absolutely no emotional reaction in him.

To the person I like…
I’m nothing.

“…Yeah. It’s your relationship. You do what you want.
I’m not being sarcastic. Really.
I actually felt a little bad. I kept telling you do this, do that, when it’s your life.
So… do whatever makes you comfortable. People don’t get what they want just because they intend to.”

Hansol murmured.

“…You mad?”

“Huh? No.”

“Then why’d your energy suddenly die?”

Noeul watched him closely.
He seemed to think Hansol was upset because he wasn’t going to confess to Jiwoo.
If that misunderstanding stuck, good.
Hansol could never reveal the real reason.
Was this his fate?
The fate of someone stuck between two people who actually like each other?

“…Let’s go.”

Hansol turned around and began walking back the way they came.

Hansol didn’t feel entirely comfortable with Jiwoo.
Noeul knew that.
Actually, it wasn’t just “not comfortable.” Hansol seemed more distant with Jiwoo than with most people, even though they hung out all the time and clearly cared about each other.

Noeul didn’t think it was bad or weird.
Honestly, it was weirder that they were close at all.
Their personalities were complete opposites. One overthinks everything and carries old wounds.
The other doesn’t think much at all and barely has any.

On top of that, Jiwoo triggered Hansol’s insecurities.
Hansol probably looked at Jiwoo and thought, If I were born like him, I’d never have needed plastic surgery.

So Noeul knew Hansol got tense around Jiwoo, and more lively when Jiwoo wasn’t around.
But… the last few days, Hansol had been acting strange.
Not just “more lively”—just… different.

Is this what happens when people become really close?
Or was Hansol the same and Noeul was imagining it?
Probably imagination… but still.

“Oh wow, no one’s here.”

Noeul walked into the clubroom.
Only Hansol was inside, sitting in his usual corner of the sofa.
Noeul sat beside him.

“You’re here?”

Hansol looked up briefly from his phone and greeted him.
Noeul pulled out his laptop and placed it on his lap.

“Is Jiwoo coming?”

“He just finished his elective class, probably left just now.”

“Mm.”

“Hey, look at this.”

Hansol turned his phone screen toward Noeul, scooting closer as he did so.

But he scooted too close.
Their shoulders, arms, hips, and thighs pressed together.

Noeul inhaled sharply.
But he kept a straight face.
They were friends— reacting obviously would only make things awkward.

He thought Hansol would immediately scoot back.
But Hansol didn’t move.
The entire side of their bodies was fused together like glued paper.

Noeul forced himself to look at the screen.
Some doctor was talking about health and blood circulation and exercise.

He couldn’t focus at all.
All his nerves were concentrated on the areas where they touched.
The room was cool, yet only his arm, thigh, and hip were heating up.
Hansol was slightly leaning on him, so Noeul even felt the pressure of his weight.

Noeul stayed frozen like a statue, hands resting stiffly on his laptop.
Compared to him, Hansol seemed completely relaxed.
Had Hansol forgotten his gender entirely?
Was that why he could lean on him so comfortably?
Still—Noeul was a guy.
Did Hansol really feel nothing?
Was Noeul no different from a sofa cushion?

Well… it was better than Hansol being disgusted by touching him.
Noeul never expected Hansol to feel flutters from brushing against him anyway.

Maybe it was actually good for Noeul.
The more comfortable Hansol felt, the more chances there would be for this kind of “accidental contact.”
Hansol wouldn’t even know Noeul was savoring these moments…

Noeul resolved that he must never let Hansol detect any of these thoughts.

“Did you see?”

Hansol closed the video.

“Huh? Oh… yeah.”

Noeul mumbled vaguely.
He hadn’t seen a thing.
His eyes had been open, but nothing had entered his brain.

“Look. Your palm is white. No blood in it.”

Hansol took Noeul’s hand, lifting and examining his palm.

“…Wha… it does have color.”

Noeul blinked, confused.
What was happening?
Was this okay?
Do friends normally grab each other’s hands?
Or was this not “holding hands”?
Was he just flipping his hand over?

From the outside, it looked exactly like they were holding hands, arms linked.

Noeul’s hand rested on top of Hansol’s palm.
His hand was bigger, almost covering Hansol’s entirely.
Three seconds passed.
Five seconds.

Noeul’s heart pounded in nervous excitement.
It felt like doing something forbidden.
It felt wrong, yet he didn’t want to break the moment.
So he stayed perfectly still.

“Tsk.”

Hansol examined the hand one last time, then tossed it away as if dropping laundry.
Then he leaned back in the sofa like nothing happened.

“See? You’ll get cold hands and feet when you get older. Poor blood circulation.”

He returned to his phone.

“…Thanks for the curse.”

Noeul moved his stiffened arm slowly, like thawing frozen meat.
He fiddled with his laptop, suddenly unsure why he’d opened it in the first place.

…He was just looking at my hand, right?
He threw it away at the end—like ‘okay, done, get this thing out of here.’
That’s all it was… right?

But the soft warmth lingering on the back of his hand wouldn’t disappear.

Those few seconds—
Hansol holding his hand,
Noeul’s tension,
that strange silence—
kept replaying.

It had definitely been weird.
Incredibly, intoxicatingly weird.
Did Hansol really feel nothing?

…Of course he didn’t. It’s just that friendly touch girls often do. Don’t overthink it. Obviously not…

“Oh wow, no one’s in the clubroom?”

The door opened and Jiwoo walked in.
If he had come a minute earlier, he would’ve seen Noeul and Hansol holding hands.
Noeul felt like a petty criminal who barely escaped being caught.

“You guys planned that? Exact same line.”

Hansol said.
He looked completely unfazed.
Was Noeul the only one feeling guilty?

Probably.
Hansol had no reason to feel anything.
Only Noeul had let his thoughts get weird.

Noeul glanced at Hansol.
Hansol was calmly staring at his phone.