Cozy Obsession

“I don’t want to see a new doctor. Strangers scare me.”

“You say that, yet you had no problem eating ramen with Dr. Hwang the first time you met him.” @@novelbin@@

Feigning innocence didn’t work.

Instead of winning sympathy, Heemin got verbally KO’d on the spot.

Even kissing Iheon hadn’t swayed him—so of course, words wouldn’t either.

Heemin let out a sharp breath and slammed his spoon down on the table.

“I’m not eating.”

He had lost his appetite completely.

What was the point of taking care of his health if he was just going to be treated like a liar anyway?

I’m only doing this for you, you idiot.

He had willingly thrown away the sacredness of a first kiss—offering it up without hesitation, all to break the cycle of tragedy.

He had planned for everything. Thought through every detail.

Eating well, exercising, preparing himself to handle their future together.

But what was the point?

He should have never pitied Cha Iheon in the first place.

“Eat. Do you want to collapse again?”

“At this rate, collapsing would be better.”

“Seo Heemin.”

“Thanks for the meal.”

Pushing his chair back, Heemin made to stand.

But before he could, Iheon shot him a cold, razor-sharp glare.

“Sit. Down.”

“I’m full. I’m going to my room.”

“Sit down before I force you into that chair and shove a spoon down your throat.”

Heemin had almost forgotten.

Beneath his polished appearance as a young businessman, Cha Iheon was a full-fledged gangster.

Not just in name, but in reality—someone who wielded knives and fists without hesitation.

Sullenly, Heemin slumped back into his seat.

But out of pure stubbornness, he took a bite of grilled deodeok and chewed it far longer than necessary—like he was chewing gum.

A vein pulsed visibly on Iheon’s forehead, but he didn’t follow through on his threat.

Heemin spent the rest of the meal pushing food around his plate, barely eating.

It was childish, he knew that.

But the bubbling resentment inside him refused to settle.

Anger. Defiance.

Emotions he hadn’t even felt when Iheon had kissed him.

But now, sitting here, being treated like a liar, those feelings churned violently inside him.

He had gotten so used to this body that even his mind felt like it was becoming Seo Heemin’s.

Lying in bed, Heemin stared up at the ceiling and sighed.

Despite tossing and turning, sleep wouldn’t come.

This morning, his life here had seemed perfectly fine.

But now, an ominous storm cloud loomed over everything.

Just when he thought he was making progress, their relationship snapped back to where it started.

Like a damn rubber band.

His chest felt unbearably tight.

He had always been the type to fall asleep instantly.

And yet, now, his thoughts were so restless that for the first time in years, he actually wanted a cigarette.

He thought about Iheon.

About the way he doubted him.

About the way he still saw him as a betrayer.

If Iheon had been just another stranger—someone like Do Junyoung—none of this would have bothered him.

But the problem was, he looked exactly like the Cha Iheon from his real world.

A man who had once been an annoying yet unwaveringly loyal friend.

A friend who had always believed in him—no matter what.

Even when Heemin lied.

Even when he made excuses.

The real Cha Iheon had trusted him without question.

And yet, this one—the thirty-year-old version of that same man—looked at him like an enemy.

Like a liar.

He understood why.

Iheon had lost everything—his father, his future, his peace of mind.

He was traumatized by betrayal.

Heemin knew that.

His brain understood it.

But his heart rejected it completely.

And it hurt.

Growl.

His stomach let out a loud, thunderous noise, cutting through the silent room.

If anyone had heard it, they might’ve mistaken it for an actual earthquake.

His face burned in embarrassment.

At least he was alone.

If Iheon had been around, he would have never heard the end of it.

Frustrated, Heemin threw his blanket over his head.

Then, just as quickly, he kicked it off again.

He was hungry.

And angry.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

He was supposed to be eating well, sleeping well, and thinking only about good things.

Instead, he was lying in bed starving, sleepless, and drowning in negative thoughts.

He clutched his stomach and let out a quiet growl of irritation.

Then, suddenly—

His eyes flicked toward the glass wall beyond his bed.

Should I go... or not?

The living room was steeped in quiet, bathed only in soft moonlight.

Iheon’s bedroom was pitch dark—no light seeping through the doorway.

For someone who usually worked late into the night, he seemed to have gone to bed early today.

Now fully aware of his hunger, Heemin couldn’t get the image of the spicy, glazed grilled eel out of his mind.

Earlier, he hadn’t been able to openly show his enthusiasm, but the truth was—it had been so good he’d almost teared up.

The balance of rich, savory fat with the kick of gochujang, the tender yet firm texture of the meat—

It had melted in his mouth.

Grilled eel in gochujang sauce.

"This won’t do."

It wasn’t something he could eat often, which only made his cravings worse.

Succumbing to his hunger, Heemin slid out of bed and tiptoed toward the door.

Moving carefully in the dark, he made his way across the pristine, immaculately maintained house.

Unlike his own cluttered home in the real world, there was nothing to trip over here.

Reaching the refrigerator, he took a deep breath and opened the door.

His fingers found the covered plate almost immediately.

Just as he was pulling it out, the kitchen lights suddenly flicked on.

“What, you’ve resorted to stealing food now?”

“Holy—!”

Startled, Heemin nearly dropped the plate.

He spun around to find Cha Iheon standing behind him, leaning against the doorway.

Dressed in a deep gray bathrobe, he was watching him with an amused yet unreadable expression.

It hit him then—Iheon had insomnia.

Of course, he did.

The protagonist of any story, especially one obsessed with either revenge or love, always had a chronic inability to sleep.

How could he have forgotten something so crucial?

Fuck.

"Give it here."

Before Heemin could react, Iheon grabbed the plate out of his hands.

Technically, he did own everything in this house—the food, the fridge, even the staff who had prepared the meal.

But that didn’t make Heemin any less resentful about being treated like a thief.

You run an illegal empire, but you’re calling me a criminal for getting a midnight snack?

Fine, then at least let me get a damn job instead of locking me up like some prisoner.

He was growing sick of this.

Sick of being treated like a liar.

Sick of being denied everything.

Sick of not even being able to eat when he was hungry.

Frustrated, he clenched his empty hands into fists, staring at Iheon with barely concealed defiance.

Iheon’s eyes darkened slightly at his expression.

“Tch.”

Shaking his head, he turned away and headed toward the sink.

For a moment, Heemin thought he was about to throw the food away.

His brain instantly filled with curses.

But instead of tossing it, Iheon placed the plate in the microwave and started reheating it.

“Don’t just stand there. Get the side dishes.”

“...Huh?”

“Do you want to eat or not?”

“Oh—yes! I’ll get them!”

Snapping out of his shock, Heemin quickly retrieved the banchan from the fridge while Iheon put a pot of samgyetang on the stove and set out utensils.

This was... unexpected.

Iheon wasn’t the type to break from the novel’s script.

At this hour, he was supposed to be drowning himself in whiskey while using Seo Heemin as his form of entertainment.

And yet, here he was—eating a midnight meal with him instead.

Confused, Heemin hesitated before asking,

“Hyung, are you eating too?”

“You hate eating alone.”

Technically, Seo Heemin hated eating alone.

But since this was Iheon’s way of showing consideration, Heemin decided not to argue.

Instead, he simply nodded.

“Sit.”

The bubbling of the samgyetang filled the kitchen as the two of them settled at the table.

With practiced ease, Iheon ladled the soup into bowls, then retrieved the eel from the microwave and placed it between them.

For a moment, Heemin simply stared.

This was the same Cha Iheon who had coldly dismissed his therapy appointment.

The same Cha Iheon who had practically held him hostage.

And yet, right now, he looked like a normal person, just sitting down for a late meal.

“Thank you for the food.”

Heemin hesitated, then picked up his chopsticks and finally took a bite of the grilled eel.

It should have been soggy from the microwave, but somehow, it was just as delicious as before.

All the bitterness and resentment in his chest—the anger, the frustration—melted away in an instant.

His irritation sank to the bottom of his stomach, replaced by the rich, savory taste of the eel.

Apparently, he had been hungrier than he thought.

As he chewed, he realized something.

He had always been someone who let go easily.

Growing up in a cramped house with a struggling family, there had been no space—physically or emotionally—for holding grudges.

And now, in this world, maybe he had grown too comfortable.

Maybe he had started taking things for granted.

This luxurious lifestyle.

The safety, the routine.

Maybe his complaints were just privileged whining.

Hating Cha Iheon wouldn’t change anything.

Being impatient wouldn’t change anything.

What he needed to do was stay the course.

No matter how long it took.

No matter how slowly he chipped away at Iheon’s walls—

Eventually, he would win.

Because Seo Heemin would never be erased from Iheon’s heart.

That was the one thing he was sure of.

Letting out a small breath, he tightened his grip on his chopsticks and focused on his food.

If you’re going to survive, eat well.

That was the number one rule.

"Don’t just eat that. Have some of this too."

Iheon, who had finished his own soup, reached over and placed a plump, glistening abalone onto Heemin’s plate.