Haein liked nights with a full moon.
Because on those nights, she could stay in her human form without limits.
A large moon meant an abundance of yin energy. So much so that the replenishment of yin was faster than the energy she expended staying human.
Which made full moon nights perfect for lounging around in human form.
“Hmm, hm~”
With Taeil away on a business trip, the moonlit night felt even more freeing.
Haein was sprawled by the window, where the moonlight poured in, finishing her drawing of a willow tree.
She only had a pencil, so the drawing felt a bit lacking, but she liked how it turned out. She was in a good mood.
That was, until Siyul came out to the living room and sat on the couch. As he settled in like it was his own space, Haein glared at him with wide, annoyed eyes.
“What? I can’t even watch?”
Haein brought her swinging feet to a firm stop—like an angry tail stiffening—and silently protested.
Whenever she was in human form, Siyul always ended up beside her before she realized it.
He didn’t say much, especially if he had a book or the TV on. He’d just… sit there and watch her.
“Then what about you? How would you feel if someone sat and watched you while you were writing your diary?”
“I don’t keep a diary.”
“…Fine. Then while you’re drawing?”
“I’m terrible at drawing.”
“Ugh.”
What am I, some kind of zoo animal?
Haein hated the feeling of being observed.
“That’s why you look amazing to me. I think people who draw well are the coolest.”
“…R-Really?”
“And you’re a cat who can draw. That piece—I’d honestly buy it.”
“Hmph… Well… fine. Look if you want.”
Though her pout deepened at the intrusion into her personal time, Siyul’s sly praise turned her cheeks pink. She resumed drawing with a huff.
She couldn’t say she disliked hearing praise for her art.
Besides, having Siyul around actually made staying human easier in a few ways.
The best part was being able to stash personal belongings—like her sketchbook—in Siyul’s room.
But that persistent gaze on her back…
“….”
Siyul really was a strange guy.
Annoying when he was around, yet somehow his absence felt hollow.
Ugh.
And lately, to top it all off, he’d gone and confessed out of nowhere— snap. Startled by the memory, Haein pressed too hard and broke the pencil lead in front of her.
“…Kang!”
Annoyed that she couldn’t focus, Haein pushed herself up on her elbows.
She raised her upper body and called his name with a sharp tone. Siyul, who had been quietly watching her, slowly met her eyes.
It was the same gaze that had been watching her draw.
His eyes swept over her—more thoroughly than the moonlight covering her from head to toe.
Seeing her frowning, as if trying to be serious, Siyul raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Hm?”
“Do you really… like me?”
It was a blunt question, one that should’ve startled him. But Siyul only smiled lazily, as if stating an obvious truth.
“Yeah.”
“Why? What about me?”
“I like your face.”
“…Ugh.”
“It’s cute. The way you look all puzzled, like a cat.”
Rather than flustered, Siyul just sat there with that same arrogant, silent smile.
The kind of smirk head nurses described as “sexy“—eyes curling at the corners, lips tugged to one side.
Then Siyul rested his chin in his palm and asked her a question of his own.
“Then why do you call me ‘Kang’?”
The way he lightly brushed his lips with his ring finger as he asked—it felt strangely seductive.
Lately, everything Siyul did felt… intense. He was constantly giving off pheromones.
“If I called you by your name… it’d feel like we’re really close.”
“Then why not just get really close?”
“…Because I still can’t trust you.”
“Well, I do like it when you call me Kang, anyway.”
Siyul had grown especially gentle these days. He often smiled at her like a lover would.
But still, Haein couldn’t quite believe his sincerity.
“I still don’t get it! It makes no sense! Why do you! Like me?!”
She finally yelled, as if demanding an answer.
It was the biggest mystery to Haein these days.
After all, no one had ever confessed to her before.
Sure, she’d gone to an all-girls middle and high school, then an art college with mostly women. But more than that, she’d always been very guarded.
She was shy, had never gone on a blind date, and the moment a guy showed interest, she’d put up emotional walls like fortress gates.
She also wasn’t the most honest person. She even thought her own personality was kind of bad.
“Sometimes I wish I were a dog-type.”
“…A dog? Why?”
“Then when I liked someone, I could just wag my tail like crazy and show it with my whole body. It’s hard hiding how I feel all the time.”
To be fair, Siyul was the epitome of a cat-type guy.
Unreadable, mischievous, lazy, sexy. Refined, but with a slightly wicked side.
If Haein was a ditzy kitten, Siyul was a sleek, boss-level tomcat.
With a deep chuckle, Siyul rose from the sofa and began walking toward her, one slow step at a time.
“W-Why are you coming closer?!”
Haein shifted backward on instinct. She debated whether to bolt entirely—but Siyul sat down in front of her first.
He gently took her knees into his hands, locking eyes with her, and whispered low:
“I want you to be a part of me.”
“…Ugh.”
“That kind of thing… can’t be explained with words. Why I love this or that part of you, or how deeply I adore you, or how much I want you to love me too. Those things.”
“You—You’re too close.”
Their faces were so close, their noses almost touched.
Haein turned her head away to the limit. Siyul, sensing her continued caution, leaned in with the softest brush of lips—not quite a kiss, just the faintest touch—against her cheek.
“Just give me a little time. I’ll make you feel it. So there’s no room left to doubt.”
The deep, rumbling voice curling at the end—it was overwhelming.
Siyul thought: if Haein was the female, then he would be the male.
Not that he wasn’t already.
“I want you to feel it soon.”
“…Feel what?”
“That you’re loved.”
Why did every single word out of his mouth sound so indecent?
The way his eyes curved slowly, his gentle lips, that gaze thick with want—it was too much for Haein.
She could avert her eyes from those, sure. But his voice? That rich, persistent murmur? It slid into her ears with no escape.
The mating call of a courting male.
And at this distance, there was nothing she could do to block it out.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
Taeil returned from his two-day business trip to Jeju Island.
As a gift, he brought back some Jeju mandarin chocolates. Siyul, unfazed, casually pulled a can of beer from the fridge.
After all, to men, chocolate was basically just something to have with alcohol.
Clink.
“Good work, Taeil.”
“Thanks, hyung-nim.”
The two were at a point where even casual toasts felt natural.
Siyul sat on the sofa while Taeil, with Haein curling up in his lap, sat cross-legged on the floor.
“Meow, meow.” (The ocean. It smells like the ocean.)
“It’s nice to have someone greet you when you get home.”
“Right? You’re such a warmhearted guy—how’d you even live alone all this time?”
“I had my pet. Well, she’s a cat, technically. But still, she was a comfort. Thanks to you, hyung-nim, I worry a lot less when I go on trips. I really mean it.”
As Taeil sat with Haein nestled against him, absorbing her full attention, Siyul stared down at them for a moment—then offered casually,
“Shouldn’t you drop the honorific and start calling me hyung now?”
“Ah… should I?”
“No pressure. Take your time.”
“I’ll try.”
As the two men continued their now-familiar drinking ritual, Haein, fresh from a shower and still smelling faintly of soap, began to doze off in Taeil’s lap.
The warmth and familiar scent comforted her.
With Siyul constantly trying to turn her into a “woman,” she had been tense the whole time. But in Taeil’s embrace, she could stay a cat. That was a relief.
Soon, she was fast asleep, purring like a baby in its mother’s arms.
As he opened his second can, Siyul glanced at her and murmured softly.
On the muted television, an old romance film played in the background.
“You like romance movies?”
“Not really.”
“Me neither. Maybe it’s because they feel too artificial? Like they’re not about real love.”
“Well, they’re movies, hyung. Of course they’re not real.”
“Still, sometimes real life feels more like a movie.”
Following Siyul’s gaze, Taeil nodded at the screen.
It showed a man dying to protect the woman he loved. A classic tragic love story, complete with tear-jerking music.
“Shin Taeil. What do you think real love is?”
It was a question born out of the film, but also something that had been lingering in Siyul’s mind.
And true to his thoughtful nature, Taeil took a moment to consider it seriously—not suspecting for a moment that Siyul was asking as a romantic rival.
“Love is…”
Taeil began, gently stroking Haein’s side as he spoke. But she only snuggled in deeper, still fast asleep, completely unaware of the conversation unfolding.
“…when the person I love is happy. If they’re happy, then… I’m happy.”
“Even if that person doesn’t love you back?”
“That’s what makes it love. It’s fine if they don’t notice. It’s fine if it feels one-sided. Even if I walk away with nothing, it’s okay.”
That had been Taeil’s love for Ha-eun for fifteen years—pure, unwavering, asking for nothing in return.
“…Sounds a bit too blind to me. Like a parent’s love for their child.”
“You think so? What about you, hyung? What’s love to you?”
Siyul hadn’t expected the question to bounce back. He paused for a moment, then answered slowly—deliberately.
“Love is… something the winner has. Or the strong.”
“You’re the type to fight for it, huh?”
“If that’s what you want to call it. Either way, I’ll take it—even if it means forcing it. If I can’t have it, then it was never mine to begin with.”
There was a hint of challenge in his tone, like
Don’t you think we’re complete opposites?
Taeil gave a small smile.
“Then your love is for you. Mine’s for the one I love.”
Taeil was content to love from afar. Siyul needed to be loved back to be satisfied.
One was happy just to love. The other only loved what was complete, mutual.
The difference between the two was stark—and Siyul found himself smiling at the contrast. It was a gap too wide to bridge.
He’d known from the beginning that their values were different.
And to him, Haein’s way of loving resembled Taeil’s more than his own. Quiet observation, giving up before even trying.
“You’re too gentle with love. Compared to you… I’m definitely the tyrant.”
Siyul could guess Haein’s taste. She probably liked the warmth, comfort, and stability Taeil offered.
But what Siyul could give her was the opposite.
Endless tremors, breathless passion, a heart that never stopped racing.
Between the two was the difference between a breeze and a storm.
“Don’t women usually like guys who push forward like you do, hyung? Guys like me—women say we’re spineless. No pride.”
“That was Kim Gi-do, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, him. He said being cautious was just a fancy word for lacking spirit.”
Siyul didn’t think anyone was wrong.
And somehow, the fact that his rival was a peace-loving softie gave him a strange feeling.
Not relief—satisfaction.
Like a warrior sizing up his opponent before battle and realizing,
At least this one’s honorable.
Knowing his opponent was a decent man made Siyul feel a sense of pride.
Because if Taeil was valuable, then defeating him meant Siyul was valuable too.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
That day’s assigned chore was cleaning the bathroom mirror.
It had taken her a while, but Haein finally emerged from the bathroom, a light sheen of sweat forming on her forehead.
Just then, Siyul, standing in the kitchen, gestured for her to come over.
There he goes again, calling me like that. What am I, a dog? I’m a cat, you know!
Haein pouted and walked over. Siyul, as if he’d been waiting, held out a gift-wrapped package resting on the dining table.
“A present. You gave me something, so I figured I’d return the favor.”
“When did I give you anything?”
“That weird bronze sculpture.”
“Oh…!”
She had completely forgotten about it. Since there was no way to give it to Taeil, both pieces had ended up sitting next to Siyul’s computer.
“Open it.”
The wrapping was neat and sturdy. It felt solid and had a bit of weight to it. Long and flat, and when she shook it, there was a faint rattling inside.
She sniffed. A bit of metal. A bit of wood.
It made her feel a little guilty. The gift she’d given had been so small and thoughtless. Technically she’d just passed it on because she didn’t know what else to do with it—and yet here was a proper gift in return.
“Hurry.”
Siyul urged her on as she hesitated. Haein started unwrapping.
And not long after, she knew exactly what it was.
This is… definitely art supplies!
Like offering fish to a cat—she tore the rest of the wrapping open in a rush, sneaking glances at Siyul all the while. Her heart pounded.
He watched with a satisfied smile.
“You needed it, right?”
“Wah…!”
It was a set of professional-grade colored pencils.
Faber-Castell. To be exact, the Albrecht Dürer 120-color watercolor pencil tin—perfect for adding color to the willow tree drawing she’d barely finished sketching.
The kind of thing that would bring out her signature sense of color.
How does he always know exactly what I want, exactly when I want it?
Siyul really was the type to read people from above, as if perched somewhere high, looking down.
An infuriating kind of guy who saw straight through her.
And yet—she was grateful.
“This… are you really giving this to me?”
“You like drawing, don’t you?”
“…Yeah.”
“I figured you might be low on supplies.”
Was it really okay to accept something like this? It felt too good to be true. Haein hesitated, then hugged the tin of pencils tightly and looked up at Siyul.
It was strangely moving.
The thought that he’d seriously considered something just for her.
“…Thanks.”
“You like it?”
“Yeah, I’m really happy! I love it!”
Her eyes sparkled as she smiled shyly. Siyul smiled back, sweetly.
“If you’re thankful… I have a small favor to ask.”
“Eh?”
His voice was suspiciously gentle.
I knew it. Of course there’s a catch! This was a bribe!
Haein realized she should probably put the pencils down. But they were already clinging to her like a second skin. She couldn’t let go.
But I really want this…!
“It’s nothing big… Could you give me a lap pillow?”
“Wh-what? Me, let you rest your head on my lap…?”
“No, no. I mean, you rest your head… on mine.”
Hmm?
That didn’t sound so bad.
Having imagined something much worse, Haein found the idea of putting her head in Siyul’s lap—not him lying in hers—surprisingly tame.
But of course, it was all part of Siyul’s careful plan.
She hesitated, wavering, then asked,
“H-how long?”
“An hour?”
“…”
“Okay, okay. Thirty minutes.”
He even offered a discount!
Wasn’t that a deal? It wasn’t like it was a huge request.
Groaning, Haein fidgeted in place. And then, giving in as if she couldn’t help it, she finally nodded.
Siyul found that innocent side of hers extremely endearing.
And so, little by little, Haein was being tamed.
“Okay.”
She answered sweetly—without realizing she was stepping right into his trap.
So obedient. Siyul grinned.
