Swallow Hunting - Chapter 31.2
Even while closing my eyes, blocking my ears, and pulling the musty blanket over my head, cold sweat broke out along my spine at the sudden, crashing roar of thunder. It felt too similar to the sound of my drunken father hurling curses while raising his hand against me. On days like those, I couldn’t catch a single wink of sleep all night.
I intentionally turned away from the curtains and fiddled with my phone. Just as I was about to turn on the TV since there was nothing left to see, a text message arrived. Hae-jun, who had been acting as one with the sofa, groggily pushed his upper body up. A faint, beaming smile floated onto his lips.
Has there ever been a day where the news of Lee Kang-ju’s arrival was this welcome?
Hae-jun flopped back down and rested his arm over his forehead. Even though the sound of rain couldn’t be heard, a restless noise drifted from somewhere. He fumbled his hand down to find the source of the sound. His palm stopped over his chest.
“That’s strange.”
It seemed the thunder was the cause after all. His chest was likely noisier than usual due to a bout of fear. He intentionally turned up the volume of his music, trying to ignore the seeping sound of the rain.
***
Lee Kang-ju arrived at dawn. Hae-jun, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, rubbed his eyes as he woke up. It was much later than the usual time. A faint, fishy scent lingered in the air. It wasn’t the smell of rain. When he turned on the lamp next to the sofa, he saw dots of blood splattered across Lee Kang-ju’s shirt.
Lee Kang-ju, following Hae-jun’s gaze, looked down at the blood deeply staining his cuffs and gave a troubled smile.
“There was something I had to take care of.”
Throwing punches was his trade, after all. It was a well-known fact, so it wasn’t surprising. Hae-jun shook his head to drive away the sleepiness and stood up. He took the jacket from Lee Kang-ju and hung it on a hanger.
“You aren’t hurt anywhere, are you?”
Whether it was an unexpected question or not, those handsome eyebrows lifted briefly before returning to their place. He sat on a chair, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and leaning his head back. On the back of the hand that returned to his front, his knuckles were bruised and red. There were even spots where the skin was torn and bloody scabs had formed.
“I am not.”
It was plain to see, yet it seemed he didn’t even consider that level of injury as being “hurt.” Hae-jun took the medicine box from the cupboard and sat down next to Lee Kang-ju. Yohan had looked after him on a day he had scraped the back of his hand against a wall while making a delivery. He had told him that if a scar formed, customers would find fault with it later.
“I think you need to treat that.”
“This?”
“Yes. It’ll probably get infected if you leave it.”
Hae-jun remembered how much he had suffered when a cut on his inner thigh was left alone and later turned purulent. Since then, even if he couldn’t apply medicine to a wound, he at least never forgot to disinfect it.
Lee Kang-ju obediently held out his hand. Hae-jun carefully rubbed the wound with an alcohol swab. Dark blood scabs came off onto the white cotton. It must have been quite stinging, but Lee Kang-ju merely watched with his chin propped on his hand, looking indifferent. That gaze was so tenacious that Hae-jun’s shoulders kept tensing up.
After finishing the disinfection, he even blew soft breaths on it so it would hurt less. He had a memory of his mother, back when she was still alive, wiping his scraped knee and blowing on it. The fingertips that hadn’t flinched when the alcohol touched them suddenly twitched at the lukewarm breath.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
As Lee Kang-ju clenched his fist, the wounds on his knuckles became prominent. The torn areas tightened, and despite the effort of cleaning them, beads of blood welled up again.
“The wound will burst if you do that. Please open your hand.”
He extended his long fingers without a word of complaint. Hae-jun finished applying the ointment and took out a bandage. At that point, Lee Kang-ju withdrew his hand.
“That’s enough. It’s uncomfortable.”
He would heal faster if he applied this so water wouldn’t touch it. It was a shame, but since the man himself disliked it, there was nothing to be done. Hae-jun put the bandage back and pushed the box aside.
From outside, the sound of rainwater hitting the glass window could be heard. It seemed it would pour relentlessly until tomorrow morning. The air in the room was damp. He wanted to throw the window wide open just for ventilation, but he couldn’t because the rain would come rushing in.
The silence was burdensome. Lee Kang-ju wasn’t much of a talker, and Hae-jun’s usually talkative mouth was resting since he had just woken up. Hae-jun, who was only fidgeting with his fingers, parted his lips under the pressure of needing to say something.
“How did you get hurt?”
Lee Kang-ju, who had been staring at the knuckles Hae-jun treated with his eyes cast down, lifted his gaze. Perhaps because he was used to staying up all night, there was no trace of sleepiness in Lee Kang-ju’s eyes despite it being dawn.
“Ah, I heard that you took care of some business… but I was curious about what kind of business it was specifically.”
“It’s nothing much.”
Hae-jun shut his mouth tight at the cutting tone. He shouldn’t have brought it up. If he had just stayed quiet, he would have at least avoided the awkwardness.
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