Idol of the Heavenly One - vanish into fiction

For a moment, my heart sank. That voice sounded so desperate. It trembled as if longing for someone, filled with yearning. Then, a single clear tear rolled down Baek Jae-heon’s cheek. The scene unfolded before my eyes in slow motion.

Who is he looking for?

That question lingered in my mind. Was it because of memories from a past life, or was he missing someone in the present? I couldn’t tell. The sorrow I felt was mixed with a strange curiosity, and even his tears looked beautiful to me. Conflicting emotions tightened in my chest. Slowly, I raised my hand and wiped his tears away.

Perhaps it was that touch. Baek Jae-heon’s eyelids fluttered open. Just as I was about to pull my hand back, he instinctively caught it. His grip wasn’t strong, but the warmth in it seemed to say, “Don’t let go.”

With the face of someone just waking up, Baek Jae-heon silently looked up at me. No words were exchanged, but my head filled with questions.

What kind of dream did you have?

Who were you looking for?

Was it about your past life?

But I swallowed all of those questions. Instead, I asked something small and ordinary.

“…Do you want to have dinner?”

At that, a faint smile appeared on Baek Jae-heon’s lips. He gave a small laugh and nodded, his peaceful expression masking the traces of tears and longing from earlier. Seeing that smile, I felt I was right not to ask anything yet. What he needed now was stability. My questions could wait for later.

We sat together with my family at the dinner table. The comforting scent of home-cooked food filled the house. My mother kept placing side dishes into Baek Jae-heon’s bowl, telling him, “Eat a lot.” Baek Jae-heon gave a shy smile, as if he wasn’t used to such attention.

My father glanced at my mother, then picked the meat off a fish and placed it on top of my rice bowl. It was something he used to do often when I was young, but not anymore. Maybe he thought I might feel left out seeing my mother fuss over Jae-heon. The gesture made me laugh quietly. When Baek Jae-heon noticed, he glanced between my father and me, then silently continued eating.

After dinner, we all gathered in the living room to watch a New Year’s special movie. The room filled with laughter and admiration. Later, when we monitored our performance together, even my family focused intently on the screen. Baek Jae-heon sat with his arms crossed, watching quietly, looking uncharacteristically nervous. When my mother said, “You’re so good, really,” he gave a small, amused smile.

It was late at night when the house finally quieted down. I was about to fall asleep when the door opened softly and my mother stepped in.

“You two are sleeping together on that narrow bed again?”

I nodded. She told me to wait a moment, then returned with an electric blanket and layered several soft comforters on top. Then she told me to sleep on the floor instead. Without complaint, I lay down on the bedding she had prepared.

“Is it warm enough? You won’t be cold?”

I nodded again, but my mother didn’t leave right away. She adjusted the edge of the blanket and asked once more.

“Are you really okay?”

It felt both familiar and strangely ticklish inside. Being treated like a child made me a little embarrassed, but at the same time, her gentle care felt warmly comforting.

Then my mother turned to Baek Jae-heon.

“Jae-heon, you won’t be cold either, right? Should I bring a thicker blanket?”

I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. The bed already had an electric blanket and a microfiber comforter. If she added anything more, he might actually roast like a sweet potato. Jae-heon was probably thinking the same thing.

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

His voice came calmly from above me, polite and composed. It didn’t sound like a refusal, but rather like someone sincerely appreciating another’s kindness. His tone made me smile faintly. When I first brought Baek Jae-heon home, I had worried. I wondered if he might act distant or feel uncomfortable. But those worries turned out to be needless. Jae-heon ate well, spoke little, yet blended naturally into our family.

Even so, my mother didn’t seem completely at ease. She lingered near the door, smoothing the edge of the blanket again, checking if the window was properly closed, and fiddling with the electric blanket’s temperature dial for no reason. After glancing around the room a few more times, she finally gave a quiet nod.

“Alright then, sleep well.”

The door closed softly.

Once again, the room was enveloped in darkness. The faint sound of wind brushing past the window reached my ears. As I lay on the warm electric blanket, heat slowly seeped upward from my feet. With both arms folded behind my head, I stared at the ceiling. In the pitch-black stillness, the only thing confirming our presence was the sound of our breathing.