Yoon Jooho didn’t answer.
Instead, he pulled Song Hyunsoo’s hand and embraced him.
Resting his chin on Yoon Jooho’s shoulder, Song Hyunsoo gazed at the warm sunlight spread over the distant grass.
“Do you know what I was thinking about while talking with hyung?”
“I’m not really curious.”
“You’re not curious, even though it’s about you, senpai?”
“……”
“I was thinking about how much I love you, senpai.”
Yoon Jooho let go of Song Hyunsoo from his arms and looked into his face.
He wore the expression of someone hearing ‘I love you’ from their lover for the very first time.
“Even if you met someone in the past, I realized I couldn’t give you up. To the point where I don’t even care about that kind of thing. That’s how much I love you.”
Yoon Jooho’s eyes trembled and shimmered, shattering into tiny pieces.
“Me too.”
His voice trembled the same way.
“Everyone told me this was a complicated relationship and tried to stop me. But I didn’t care about any of that. I just couldn’t give you up.”
He believed in Yoon Jooho’s sincerity.
He was a man too honest to ever sugarcoat things, unable to weave sweet, pleasant words just for show, even if his frankness sometimes turned a person inside out.
That was why Song Hyunsoo could bring up the past so casually, like a little grumble about things that had already gone by.
It was only a story he could tell now that he was finally okay.
“After crying in your dreams?”
Yoon Jooho’s eyebrow twitched.
“What are you even talking about now.”
Leading Yoon Jooho’s confused hand, Song Hyunsoo started walking again.
“The day you first brought Monroe home. Senpai, you cried in your sleep. Saying don’t go, it’s not allowed, I’m sorry. You even shed tears, you know?”
He let out a bitter smile.
It was a thin, faint smile, as if he might vanish right before Song Hyunsoo’s eyes.
Instead of heading straight for the lakeside, they took a different path.
It was a secluded trail that led to a narrow stream branching off from the Lake.
“Do you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“When we hadn’t known each other for long, I told you that you reminded me of someone I knew before.”
He had completely forgotten, but the moment he heard it, the memory surfaced vividly.
『“Watching Song Hyunsoo today, I thought of someone I used to know. I guess it was bothering me.”』
Did that mean he resembled his first love?
Back then, he hadn’t known any better and had jumped to his own conclusions.
“Every kid likes animals when they’re little. I was the same.”
“You, senpai? I can’t imagine that.”
“It’s not like I was born drinking, smoking, and living just for myself, you know.”
Song Hyunsoo let out a short laugh, as if he found the idea ridiculous, and Yoon Jooho laughed along with him.
But their laughter didn’t last long.
“My Parents were always firm about not allowing a dog or a cat. But one day, they gave me a condition.”
“What kind of condition?”
Even though he had a bad feeling about it, Song Hyunsoo couldn’t help but ask.
“If I won the Supporting Actor Award at the year-end awards, they’d let me have a dog.”
“Not the Child Actor Award?”
“I’d already won more Child Actor Awards than I could count.”
What Yoon Jooho’s Parents wanted was for him to go down in history as an actor who had won the Supporting Actor Award, even though he wasn’t yet an adult actor.
“But that was too high of a hurdle. It’s rare for child actors to even get roles big enough for that. But that year, with ‘Sweltering Afternoon’, I swept awards left and right.”
Sweltering Afternoon.
Of course, Song Hyunsoo remembered the work.
Back then, Yoon Jooho was in third or fourth grade, and his performance, following his role as the Prince in his debut, had moved the whole nation to tears—including Song Hyunsoo’s Grandmother.
“I fed him, gave him water, took him for walks whenever I had time, and even slept with him in my bed. He was such a good boy. Not long after coming home, he was already house-trained. A genius puppy, really. Just like our Monroe.”
As he reminisced about the puppy, Yoon Jooho smiled.
But Song Hyunsoo’s heart already started to ache.
He had a feeling this story wasn’t going to have a happy ending.
“It was probably the happiest memory in all my childhood.”
Song Hyunsoo couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
“But after I brought him home, my Parents started using him as leverage. Every time, they’d threaten to give him away.”
Cruel people.
Not even a twenty-year sentence would be enough for them.
Song Hyunsoo hung his head, gripping Yoon Jooho’s hand tightly, moving his legs mechanically.
“They said it was my fault. That because I was irresponsible, I had to let him go.”
“……”
“No matter how much I begged and promised to do better, it was useless.”
“……”
“He was the only one who loved me unconditionally.”
He couldn’t bear it anymore.
When Song Hyunsoo looked up, they were standing on a small arched bridge.
It was a hidden nook, surrounded by big trees and a gentle stream.
Everything around them was painted green.
Yoon Jooho stood there quietly.
He didn’t cry or even look like he might.
That hurt Song Hyunsoo even more.
So that’s why he was so scared to bring Monroe home.
He didn’t want to have something, because he was afraid of losing it.
That’s what kind of person he was.
“I’ve never told anyone this before. That’s the truth.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore.”
He embraced him.
He didn’t care if anyone saw, or if there were Koreans nearby.
Even if the paparazzi were snapping photos, he didn’t care.
If he couldn’t hold the one he loved in a moment like this, there was no point in living.
He pressed his cheek against Yoon Jooho’s.
“I’ll love you even more.”
Hot tears seeped between them.
“For all the love you didn’t get from those people. I’ll love you until you’re drowning in it, senpai.”
Yoon Jooho’s arms tightened around Song Hyunsoo.
“That’s all I need.”
Only then did his voice begin to tremble.
“I like your love best.”