The Saint Wants to Rest - vanish into fiction

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At that moment, the bathroom door opened and Vermouth stepped out. Seeing him, Ian reflexively hunched his shoulders. Vermouth’s body, with only a single towel precariously wrapped around his waist, was truly like a perfectly carved statue. However, what caught Ian’s gaze more intensely than the water droplets clinging to the damp muscles was the perfectly regenerated arm.

A Paladin can also use light healing abilities. On top of that, Vermouth was the strongest among all Paladins. Though it consumed power, there would have been no difficulty in regenerating the arm as long as the poisonous energy was gone.

“Mr. Ian.”

Vermouth approached while sweeping back his wet hair. In his languidly relaxed purple eyes, there was a lethargy unique to a beast that had finished its predation. He knelt before Ian, who was perched on the edge of the bed. Then, he extended his newly grown arm and wrapped it around Ian’s waist carefully, yet firmly.

“Vermouth.”

Unlike being held by a single arm, Ian felt a sense of stability. Vermouth pressed his nose against Ian’s abdomen and took a deep breath.

“It feels like a dream. To be able to hold you fully with both these arms once again, Mr. Ian.”

The long eyelashes surrounding his purple eyes fluttered like butterflies. Looking at that, Ian’s breath hitched despite himself. Truly, only his looks are perfect.

“Hey, I can’t breathe. Move back a bit.”

Ian said so while pulling on Vermouth’s hair, but the man did not budge.

“I do not want to. Please let me stay like this just a little longer. Your body scent is too sweet.”

As if! Since the two of them had been rolling around excitedly on the bed, the smell was obvious. Ian hadn’t even been able to wash up yet.

‘Shameless bastard!’

Vermouth squeezed the arms wrapped around the waist as if acting spoiled. Ian stopped trying to push him away and eventually began to stroke the damp hair gently.

Even though he had pushed Ian so roughly until a moment ago, when he buried himself in Ian’s arms like this, he was exactly like a large dog. Ian’s heart throbbed irregularly. He is a guy he really dislikes, so why does he keep permitting him to be near me?

‘Have I really been gaslighted or something?’

It was just as he was thinking that.

Beep beep. Clack.

The cheerful mechanical sound of the front door lock disengaging sliced through the quiet house. Ian’s shoulders jolted. Vermouth also turned his head while still holding Ian’s waist.

“Ian. Hyung is home.”

Choi Jae-heon, who was supposed to be at the Administration Bureau, had returned home much earlier than expected. Heavy footsteps crossed the living room and approached directly in front of Ian’s bedroom door. Soon, the door opened silently, and Choi Jae-heon, dressed in comfortable clothes, stepped into the room.

And then, his footsteps came to a dead stop.

Ian, sitting on the bed with a face as red as an apple, and Vermouth, who was completely naked, holding Ian’s waist tightly with both arms. That wasn’t all. There was the strange atmosphere filling the room, the fishy yet oddly sweet scent, and the blatant, reddish marks blooming near Ian’s collarbone.

Silence fell.

Before an excuse could even be made, the air in the room froze rapidly.

Choi Jae-heon’s gaze started from Ian’s reddened face, passed over Vermouth’s broad back, and finally landed on Vermouth’s newly grown “left arm.” He was no fool.

‘I know.’

He knew what kind of act Ian performed to wash away the deadly poison that dug deep into Vermouth’s veins. He had also guessed that it wouldn’t stop at a kiss. But even though he knew, his emotions could not be controlled.

‘While I was away from the house.’

Choi Jae-heon’s eyes lost their light and sank into a dark void. A terrible pressure began to weigh down on the space as if the gravity in the room had instantly become several times heavier.

Crick.

Under Choi Jae-heon’s control, telekinetic power was crushing the air itself. The reinforced glass of the window cracked silently under the invisible force, and the high end marble tiles on the floor fractured minutely. It was a tense, chilling murderous aura that made even breathing painful.

However, Choi Jae-heon tried his best not to get angry at Ian.

Even while his reason was being chipped away by rage, he bit his own tongue and suppressed that massive murderous intent as cold as a sheet of ice.