Chapter Text
The early morning sunlight pours through the tall, linen-draped windows of the master bedroom, casting a muted golden sheen on the marble floor. The room is immaculate, every corner pristine, every surface gleaming. It's the kind of space where nothing ever feels out of place. The decor, the scents, the people.
Just the way Kim Sunoo likes it.
He's sat before the dresser, elbows resting delicately on the lacquered surface, a large mirror reflecting his serene yet calculated expression. His dark hair falls in straight strands over his eyes as he does his eyeliner with the precision of a surgeon. Every stroke, every detail, every shade has to be perfect. His white silk robe hugs his slender figure, cinched just right as if it too knows its place.
His scent, sharp and citrusy with undertones of jasmine lingers like perfume in the air. At only 26 years of age, he's accomplished more than most people can ever dream to in their lifetime. For starters, he's a pure-blood male omega. Rare, revered, almost too perfect to even get too close to.
Secondly, he's the owner of Core Luxe. A high-end, luxury pilates studio exclusively for omegas. It's something he built from the ground up himself. Well, for the most part. But that in itself is an unknown feat for omegas to accomplish. As if that isn't enough responsibility already, Sunoo has been married and mated for almost four years now to Lee Heeseung, CEO of Lee Holdings, a real estate company with subsidiaries that are just as powerful and influencial.
And no, that's still not all.
He also has a three year old son. Juwon is the sweetest little boy Sunoo could ever ask for. Quiet, calm, delicate and smarter than he lets on. If you asked Sunoo, he's the spitting image of him. Even though Heeseung would argue otherwise. Like in most things, as of late.
Behind Sunoo, Heeseung is buttoning the cuffs of his shirt, his tie draped loosely around his neck. He moves slowly and comfortably, as if time isn’t breathing down his neck even though it is. He's always like this. Collected, composed, patient. As expected of recessive alphas who are known to be the most level-headed people around. Almost annoyingly so.
“You’re up early,” Heeseung murmurs, glancing at Sunoo's reflection in the mirror as he tightens the knot on his tie.
Sunoo doesn’t look away from his reflection. “What do you mean? I’m always up at eight,” he says simply. “You know I hate rushing. Rushing ages people.”
Heeseung smiles faintly, not bothering to argue. He slips on his blazer and goes over to the walk-in closet, picking out a pair of shoes.
There was a brief silence, comfortable on Heeseung's end, coldly efficient on Sunoo's. After stepping out of the closet, Heeseung opens up the nightstand drawer, taking a scent suppressor. As he puts the pills back, he glances Sunoo's way again.
“I was reading something last night. About speech delays in children,” he says, casual and cool. “I think we should consider taking Juwon for a consultation or a checkup. A friend gave me the number of the best speech therapist in Seoul."
Sunoo's hand pauses where he was clasping a delicate silver watch on his wrist. His expression doesn't change as he resumes the task. “He’s only three,” he replies. His voice remains even, but there's a clipped edge to it. “Not every child has to be loud to be smart. He’s quiet, yes. But not behind.”
Heeseung turns to look at him, this time directly. “I know. But he rarely speaks in full sentences. And his teacher at the daycare mentioned he avoids verbal interaction with other kids. I just think..maybe he needs a bit of help. There’s no harm in that.”
Sunoo finally meets his eyes through the mirror as he slips on his wedding ring. He lets out a breath, arching a brow. “You want to label our son as delayed because he enjoys peace and quiet?”
Heeseung pauses as he's putting some files in his briefcase. There's a hint of tension in his broad shoulders before he shakes his head with a quiet sigh. “No, Sunoo. Of course not. I just want him to have the adequate tools he needs to express himself. That’s not a label. It’s support," he says.
Sunoo stands up, adjusting his robe at the waist, his movements as poised as ever. He leans back against the dresser and crosses his arms, his eyes following Heeseung's movements. “Let me make one thing very clear,” he says, eyes locked onto him. “Juwon is fine. He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t throw tantrums. He listens. Do you know how rare that is in boys his age?," he questions. "You think there’s something wrong with that? With him?”
Heeseung turns to meet his eyes. It's a look Sunoo has seen too often. He never really understood it. "I didn't say that, Sunoo."
"But you implied it," Sunoo retorts, turning sharply towards the mirror again.
Heeseung heaves another heavy breath, taking his phone off the charging cable. "I’m just saying that if there is something, we should catch it early. If there isn't something, it'll give us both the peace of mind knowing he's okay. It’s not about blaming Juwonie. Or you," he replies, his voice remaining quiet and unruffled, as usual.
Sunoo shakes his head and laughs, sharp and humorless. “Of course it’s about me, Heeseung. Don't be so coy. It always is, isn’t it? If Juwon doesn’t speak, I’m a bad parent. If he speaks too much, I’m still a bad parent. You’re the perfect one here, right?,” he scoffs, dabbing a light tint on his lips perfectly despite the agitation in his voice.
There's a short pause from Heeseung before he speaks again. "Don’t twist my words, love."
“I’m not twisting anything. I just know our son better than some therapist ever could. He’s reserved, not broken," Sunoo says, capping the tint with rough movements, cursing under his breath when some gets on his fingers.
“He’s frustrated,” Heeseung corrects, firmer now. “He cries immediately when he can’t say what he needs. He shuts down when anyone gets too close or chatty. Even us. That’s not something we can ignore just because you want him to be perfect.”
Sunoo stills for a moment, a wipe clenched in his hand. He stays quiet, wiping his fingers quickly.
Heeseung catches his expression in the mirror. Whatever he thinks he sees makes him soften slightly. “Look, let’s just go for the consultation today. Hm? That’s all. No labels. No assumptions. Just a professional opinion. What do you say, love?”
There's long silence passed before Sunoo sighs and tosses the now pink wipe into the wastebin. Honestly, he doesn't know what in the world Heeseung is so worried about. It's not like there's something wrong with Juwon. He's been having regular checkups with their family doctor ever since he was born. If there really was something wrong, they would've known.
“I have back-to-back classes to teach. And two private lessons to oversee. Not to mention the construction plans," he says coolly, schooling his slightly tense expression. Frowning ages skin faster than he can say no. “And I’m not cancelling anything to entertain your insecurities.”
And with that, he turns and walks over to the closet, leaving Heeseung standing alone in the quiet.
Heeseung sighs heavily and runs a hand over his face. He guesses reasoning with his mate is equally as hard as having a good morning these days.
-
Downstairs, the dining room is a reflection of Sunoo himself, elegant and spotless. The long oak dining table holds his usual breakfast. One sliced avocado, two eggs cut with surgical precision, a small bowl of Greek yogurt topped with berries and an almond milk latte on the side with exactly three ice cubes. Carbs in the morning cause lethargy later on the day. Everything sits on white porcelain plates, the table arrangement too flawless to ever be called cozy.
Sunoo sits at the head of the table dressed impeccably as always, his posture so perfect it looks rehearsed.
On his left sits Juwon, a bit sleepy and disoriented. Their housemaid woke him up a while ago, so he's already dressed and ready for the day. She quietly sets down a bowl of cereal in front of him. Juwon is kicking his legs slowly under the table. He blinks sleepily at the bowl, clearly disinterested.
Sunoo doesn’t even glance up before speaking. "I told you a hundred times. No sugar in the morning. That cereal is garbage. Stop wasting my money on it."
"I-I'm sorry, sir. Juwon really wanted it yesterday too so I thought—”
“Don’t think,” Sunoo snaps, finally turning his cold gaze toward her, his eyes hard and icy. “Just listen. I’ve told you enough times. Organic fruit, eggs, oatmeal. That’s it. Don’t feed trash to my son.”
She quickly lowers her head, murmurs an apology, and carefully picks up the bowl. Juwon glances at Sunoo before he looks down, shoulders shrinking.
Heeseung, who was quietly watching the exchange from across the table, sets down his coffee mug. “That was unnecessary,” he says softly.
Sunoo doesn't look at him, instead checking the yolk of his egg before taking a small bite. “What's unnecessary is her complete disregard for what I have clearly instructed. We’re paying her more than enough to at least not mess up his breakfast," he mutters. "It's the most important meal of the day. God knows if he even eats a speck of anything healthy at daycare."
“Eunji been working for us for two years,” Heeseung says, his voice still even despite the impatience in Sunoo's. “She clearly loves Juwon. A little grace wouldn’t hurt, Sunoo.”
Sunoo finally met his gaze, his expression unreadable. “Maybe you should stop trying to be everyone’s hero, Heeseung. It’s honestly exhausting.”
Heeseung doesn’t respond to that jab. He never does, not right away at least. He picks up his coffee again, taking a quiet sip.
Sunoo turns to Juwon with a sugary smile, as if nothing even happened. “Sweetheart, would you like some strawberries instead?," he coos, brushing his hair away from his eyes gently.
Juwon looks at him for just a second before nodding shyly. Sunoo gestures to the housemaid, an effortless flick of his wrist. "Just give him a bowl of that gluten-free oatmeal with some strawberries, cut in half. No bananas this time, for god's sake. He keeps bloating."
Heeseung watches his morning unfold over the rim of his mug with a kind of familiar disappointment. "You’re gonna make him scared of food.”
“I’m teaching him discipline,” Sunoo replies flatly. One of the ice cubes in his latte has melted. He puts it aside. “Unlike you, I don’t think emotional sensitivity is an excuse for laziness. He needs a clean gut to have a clean mind."
Heeseung glances at Juwon, who is now quietly fiddling with the hem of his baby blue sweater. His heart aches a bit. He reaches forward and adjusts his sleeves, rolling them back over his wrists. Juwon looks up at him with his bright, trusting eyes, offering the faintest hint of a smile.
"Anyways," he sighs. "Can you drop him off at daycare today? I have a meeting in thirty minutes."
Sunoo frowns, already tapping away on his phone with his perfectly manicured nails. “What? No. Didn't I already tell you how much work I have at Core Luxe today? Don't you know how crazy traffic is at this hour in Seoul? I'll be stuck wasting time behind school buses and truck fumes."
Heeseung sets down his mug again, harder than intended this time. "It's not a waste of time, Sunoo. He asks for you."
Sunoo looks up from his phone slowly, his features hardening again. “Then you tell him Appa is busy building an empire that pays for his daycare, his tutors, and the roof over his head, Heeseung.”
Heeseung stares at him, a mix of familiar disappointment and growing irritation in his eyes. “You’re acting like spending twenty minutes in the car with our son is a burden," he mutters, shaking his head.
“I’m acting like a businessman with responsibilities,” Sunoo shoots back, putting his phone down with a thud. “You can play doting dad all you want. One of us has to keep the real world running.”
Heeseung's jaw tenses, but he doesn’t raise his voice. “The real world, Sunoo, is him growing up wondering why you always have somewhere better to be.”
Sunoo stands up from his chair, pushing it back in place with slow precision. “Save the lecture for one of your precious stakeholders. I’m running late.”
Without another glance, Sunoo picks up his phone and walks out, the sound of him leaving echoing on the marble floor with sharp finality. His scent lingers in the space long after the front door is closed.
Heeseung sighs and rubs his temples. He's already nursing a headache and it's not even 9 in the morning. He looks over at Juwon, whose spoon now sits untouched in his bowl. He has only eaten the strawberries.
Heeseung stands up, reaching across the table for his little hand. “Let’s get your bag ready, buddy. I’ll take you.” Work can always wait. He can't let his son think he's all alone in this big, gilded world of theirs.
Juwon looks up at him and nods silently, taking his hand with a grip that's a touch too tight for someone so little. Somehow, his silence still hurts more than any words ever can.
After helping him pack his daycare bag and urging him to finish at least half of his breakfast, Heeseung leaves the house with Juwon. He helps him get in his car, making sure he's secure in his seat before getting in as well.
The soft hum of the engine fills the silence between them as Heeseung drives to Juwon's daycare.
Traffic is as bad as one can expect from central Seoul in the morning. A pale haze hangs in the air as he navigates through polished avenues, the tinted windows blurring the outside world like a faded painting.
Heeseung glances sideways at the tiny figure in the passenger seat. Juwon's feet dangle far above the floor mat. A small red toy car rolls gently across his lap as he pushes it back and forth with absent fingers. His lips are pressed together, eyes downcast, as if weighed down by thoughts too big for a three year old.
Heeseung softly clears his throat. “That one’s your favorite, right?," he asks, a smile in his voice.
Juwon doesn’t look up. But eventually gives a tiny nod.
Heeseung's smile widens a bit as he stops at a red light. He pats Juwon's back, a soft, encouraging touch. “You know, when I was your age, I used to collect toy buses. The big, yellow kind. My dad used to get me one on every birthday, even when I got older," he tells him with a quiet laugh.
Silence. Juwon rolls his car over his knees.
Still, Heeseung tries again. “Should we get you a garage set this weekend? So your cars have a place to park?"
Another nod from Juwon. Then, finally, he speaks up in his quiet voice. "With the doors?”
Heeseung's chest warms with fondness and relief at the sound. Really, Juwon is too sweet for his own good. That's something Sunoo has always been right about. “Yeah, with the doors. Ones that open and close with a button. You can keep all your cars in it. But I reckon you'll need more than one for your collection."
Juwon looks up at him and gives the tiniest smile, his fingers still occupied.
A pause.
“Dad?,” he mumbles. “Are you coming today?”
Heeseung glances over at him, a bit puzzled. “Coming where, buddy?," he asks.
Juwon trains his eyes on the car in his lap again. “To..pick me up.”
Heeseung exhales slowly, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he takes a right turn. “I’ll try, Juwonie. I’ve got a meeting scheduled at the same time, but if I finish early, I’ll be there. Okay?”
Juwon nods, his words still quiet and mumbled in a way only him and Sunoo can understand. "Okay.”
The rest of the drive passes in fragments of routine. Quiet gear shifts, the soft sound of tires gliding over pavement and Juwon's toy car rolling softly against his legs.
A few minutes later, Heeseung pulls up to Little Moons Daycare. It's a place Sunoo chose, saying something about only omega teachers and "holistic" development.
As he parks the car near the gates, he walks around to unbuckle Juwon's seatbelt himself. The little boy steps down slowly, gripping his toy car tightly in one hand like a lifeline.
Heeseung kneels down and zips up his jacket, smoothing down his hair gently. It's gotten a bit long, falling into his eyes. But he still looks adorably delicate with his big eyes and pouty lips. “Be good today, yeah? And if anyone or anything makes you upset, tell your teacher. If you don't want to, you can always tell me or Appa," he reminds, helping him adjust his bag on his little shoulders.
Juwon nods slightly, his eyes scanning the crowd of kids walking into the building, all louder and faster than him. They wave happily to their parents, running ahead to the teachers greeting them at the gate.
Heeseung lets out a breath and hesitantly lowers his hands from his shoulders. Then, gently, he asks, “Did you have fun yesterday? With Appa? He took you to your favourite café, right? The one with the mochi donuts."
Juwon pauses, as if thinking deeply. After a moment, he replies, “He was on the phone. I had apple juice.” That is all he recounts.
Heeseung smiles, even though his chest twists oddly at that. “Okay, buddy. Go on then. You’re the best little man here. Don't forget that." He gives his head a quick kiss before he straightens up.
Juwon nods and gives him a short wave before walking off slowly, still clutching his toy car, small shoulders disappearing into the crowd of kids.
Heeseung watches him until he's led inside by a uniformed teacher.
He stands there for a moment, looking at the gates a bit longer than necessary, trying to figure out how something so quiet could feel so loud.
-
Everything had to shimmer.
The mirrors, the marble floors, the bodies.
Sunoo walks briskly across the upper level of Core Luxe, his sharp footsteps echoing over the polished floors. The scent of eucalyptus, white tea and luxury filled the air, a symphony of engineered tranquility. He passes by a cluster of clients in pale matching leggings, each of them stretching in silence to the ambient playlist he curated himself.
He doesn’t break stride. On the mezzanine above, construction is still underway for his latest project. A coffee and tea bar for his clients and students, an idea he had conceptualized during his last spa retreat. "Pilates is a lifestyle, not a workout," he’d told his architect. "And my clients need more than lemon balm water."
Sunoo glances at the moodboard taped beside the blueprint. Soft pastels, ribbed glass, ceramic details, gold-edged menus. His aesthetic, his vision, his rules.
“Mr. Kim?," his studio manager calls, jogging up behind him with an iPad. “We’re overbudget on the terrazzo tiles. The suppliers from Busan are charging 18% more than they quoted–”
“Use the Italian ones instead,” Sunoo cuts in. “If anyone's going to sip oat matcha lattes in post-reformer glow, they can’t be looking at dull floors. Can you imagine that?," he scoffs, looking through the moodboard.
“That’s..another 12 million won, minimum.”
Sunoo turns to look at her slowly, one brow raised questioningly. “And?”
She backs off immediately with a nod. “I’ll confirm it with procurement," she says eventually.
Sunoo resumes walking, entering his glass-walled office, a cool-toned sanctuary of muted neutrals, designer furniture and minimalist paintings. He barely has time to sit at his desk before the door opens again.
"Sunoo hyung!"
Sunoo hears him before he smells him. Jungwon steps in eagerly, comfortable and fitting in as usual, even though he doesn't work here. Some would call him a friend. Sunoo calls him his personal audience. He's a recessive omega. A pretty, curated one who'd grown up in the same neighborhood, summered in the same villas and went to the same academies as Sunoo.
Apart from that, who doesn't love a yes-man?
“Oh my god, the tiles upstairs?,” Jungwon gasps, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “They look almost identical to that Milan hotel lobby you used as a reference. Genius.”
“You think so?,” Sunoo asks absently, flipping through the weekly schedule on his desk.
“I could never do what you do,” Jungwon sighs, flopping down on the suede couch to his left. “Running a whole studio, being married and raising a kid at the same time? You’re actually insane.”
Sunoo gives him a tight smile. The kind he practices in the mirror. Insane? No. He prefers "in control." He reaches for the detox tea his assistant left on his desk before he even entered the office and takes a slow sip. He listens to Jungwon talk with only one ear.
As mildly entertaining as he is, Sunoo can appreciate him for never crossing a very carefully crafted line. He gossips too much, smiles too easily and laughs too often. But, he keeps teetering on that line. Sunoo is nothing if not observant.
Jungwon keeps talking about weekend plans, overpriced skincare, whose alpha was cheating again. The usual. Sunoo nods where expected, laughs when appropriate, but his mind has already drifted.
To Juwon's silence at breakfast.
To Heeseung's tone.
To the way Core Luxe, even at its peak perfection, no longer felt like enough.
“Earth to Sunoo hyung,” Jungwon giggles. “You spaced out. Thinking about Heeseung-ssi again?," he asks with a little smirk, a familiar glint in his feline eyes.
Sunoo snaps back into his body like someone flicked a switch. His eyes sharpen, mask settling again.
“I don’t think about alphas during business hours,” he says coolly, crossing his legs. “Especially not ones who get in the way.”
Jungwon laughs again, too loud and too easy, launching into an animated retelling of some beta rapper's rooftop party.
Sunoo just sips his tea that's now a few degrees colder, his gaze drifting back to the window overlooking the reformer studio below where his first class of the day is about to begin. A row of omegas, male and female, in taupe activewear were taking off their coats, talking softly. They looked calm, lean, sculpted. He should feel proud of everything he's accomplished. He's a pure-blood male omega, for heaven's sake. He has a different kind of celebrity status
Perfect view. Perfect life.
And still..something always feels just slightly out of place.
His thumb gently traces the rim of his teacup. He hates how that thoughts keep creeping back, uninvited. Juwon's small, quiet face at breakfast. The way he only ever really looked at Heeseung. How he flinched when Sunoo raised his voice, even when it wasn’t at him.
And Heeseung. God.
Always so passive. So calm. Like nothing he said could ever penetrate him. These days, he was pushing it and pushing it more than ever. Talking about feelings, therapy, communication, parenting books and workshops and whatnot. Talking like he was smarter. Wiser.
Better.
“Are you really okay?,” Jungwon's voice cuts into his thoughts again.
Sunoo blinks, shaking his head slightly. “Huh?”
“You completely spaced out. Again. That thing you do when you’re spiraling," Jungwon says, a hint of a smile in his airy voice.
“I don’t spiral,” Sunoo says almost automatically. “I’m just..tired, I guess. Heeseung's been on my back nonstop lately. About Juwon, about drop-offs, about 'therapy'. As if I’m not doing enough already," he scoffs, rolling his eyes like the mere through is outlandish. Because it is.
Jungwon hums, his expression slipping into something carefully serious. Practiced but passing as genuine to some degree. “You’ve always been too good for him, hyung. Everyone knows that," he says. "It's just like your mom always says. You should’ve married someone from our circle. Not a self-made recessive alpha who still looks like he eats instant ramen when no one’s watching.”
Sunoo lets out a faint laugh, more out of habit than genuine amusement, but it fades too quickly. “I just thought..after everything we’ve been through together, he’d understand me more by now," he murmurs, fiddling his wedding ring with his thumb.
“He just doesn’t get you. He never did,” Jungwon said simply, leaning forward a bit. “Remember how awful your pregnancy was? And he still expected you to smile at his friends during business dinners like some..some typical house-omega. And don’t even get me started on what you went through after Juwon was born. You didn’t even look like yourself for a whole damn year. You fought so hard to get your body back.”
Sunoo listens quietly. Something tells him Jungwon's words are coming a bit too easily to him. Too quickly. He would've stopped him from saying anything more if they weren't so..true.
“You're a pure-blood male omega. Remember? That kind of strength scares alphas like him,” Jungwon adds, his voice lowering down a hint. “They call you selfish because they can’t control you.”
Sunoo stays quiet. Jungwon was saying all the right things. Everything he’d trained himself to believe. But instead of feeling reassured, his jaw tenses. Because deep down, a voice he never acknowledged whispers something he doesn’t want to hear.
What if Heeseung wasn’t trying to control him? What if he’s just tired of pretending he’s okay with being shut out? With being given shut up calls for years? With being treated like an afterthought in his world of contracts and expansions and extensions? Like Juwon.
Sunoo hates that thought. So he quickly buries it.
His fingers slowly reach for his phone sitting face-down on the desk. No new messages. No updates from Heeseung. No photos of Juwon like he usually sent when he dropped him off at daycare. He swallows down a bitter taste in the back of his throat and puts his phone back down.
“I don’t have time for this today,” Sunoo says abruptly, standing up. “I have a class to teach and a meeting with the contractor. I need to move.”
Jungwon looks up at him in mild surprise but stands as well, smoothing down his shirt calmly. "I’ll catch you later then," he says smoothly, his tone back to normal. “Don’t let that mate of yours drain you too much," he adds with a wink as he heads towards the office door.
Sunoo forces a smile that hurts his cheeks. “Never.”
As Jungwon leaves and the office door clicks shut, silence pours in around Sunoo like water through a cracked stone wall.
He looks down at his reflection in the glass desk. The flawless skin, the sharp jawline, the sculpted arms and torso he’d worked years to hone.
Rare. Perfect. Sharp. Untouchable.
And yet, for a fleeting second, he can’t remember the last time he actually felt like someone's mate. Much less someone's parent.
-
The smell of roasted coffee beans lingers heavy in the break room, sharp against the sleek interior of Lee Holdings.
Heeseung leans back in one of the leather chairs, cradling his second cup of coffee between his fingers.
His mind is still on Juwon. His son had barely said two full sentences. Just murmurs and a small, mechanical wave at the daycare gate while gripping his toy car like his only lifeline.
Across from him sits Jay, his closest friend and partner at the company, one of the few people who knows what his home life really looks like beneath the polished veneer. He's a pure-blood alpha. Assertive, self-assured and never one to shy away from speaking his mind.
“You’ve got to do something, hyung,” Jay begins, resting his coffee down with a soft clink. “The boy needs a real omega, not a magazine cover that talks back.”
Heeseung exhales a long, tired breath. His headache hasn't gone away. It's intensified. Before he can say anything, Jay's speaking again.
“What Kim Sunoo is, is a spoiled, egotistical heir who treats people like they're beneath him. When are you going to admit you married into a problem?”
Heeseung doesn’t answer, just stares down into his cup.
Jay, sensing his emotional turmoil, tries to soften his words a bit. He clears his throat. "Did you talk to him about Juwon?," he asks.
Heeseung nods once. "Yeah. I did."
"And what did His Highness say? Called the kid a misunderstood genius and strutted out?," Jay laughs bitterly.
Heeseung sighs, checking his muted phone. No texts, no calls, no updates. Not that he was expecting any. He just wishes he was.
Jay shakes his head, sitting up straight now. “Hyung, come on. You know this isn’t working. I’ve been watching this train wreck since day one. You built this company from scratch with blood, sweat and sleepless nights, and what does Sunoo do? Open a fucking spa for rich omegas who want imported eucalyptus in their steam rooms.”
“Pilates studio,” Heeseung corrects tiredly, though he’s barely listening.
“Whatever the hell it is,” Jay snaps, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s all image with him. Hair perfect. Waist snatched. Attention-seeking and arrogance disguised as confidence. He treats you like an accessory, not a mate. And honestly, I respect you too much to let you keep dismissing this."
Heeseung exhales slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’s still my mate, Jay."
“That’s the thing. It's just a title to him,” Jay interjects before Heeseung can elaborate. “Is he really? I mean, come on, hyung. You think someone like that can raise a kid? Especially your kid? You know damn well what pure-blood omegas are really like."
There's a tense pause. No one says it, but the word’s already in the air.
Pure-blood.
The mere word sounds like the oldest myth in the book. Pure-blood omegas, revered and worshipped for their rarity, were supposed to be gentle, nurturing, soft-spoken creatures.
The reality? Too often, they are the opposite. Temperamental. Entitled. Used to being catered to by every alpha in the room. And Sunoo, with his immaculate face and body, diamond-studded fingers and icy glare, was the textbook version.
“You’re bending over backward trying to keep peace in a house that’s always at war,” Jay adds, his voice a touch quieter now. “At what cost?”
Heeseung swirls his coffee slowly, his head a mess. “Juwon. He's the cost. I’m doing it for him."
Jay huffs, his expression tightening in the way it always does when his concern turns into indignation. “And it's working? Look at the kid. He barely speaks. That’s not shyness, man. That’s emotional neglect.”
Jay hesitates for a moment, then leans forward. “You know, sometimes I wonder if he’s even..loyal. Like, fully. Emotionally. Physically. He’s always at that studio, surrounded by a damn cult following, always on show. And I hate to say it, but you’re not in his world anymore. You never really were.”
Heeseung's jaw clenches, his grip on his cup tightening imperceptibly. "Jay."
“I’m not saying he’s cheating,” Jay continues over him. “But I am saying that he’s living a life that doesn’t leave much space for being a mate. Or a parent. Or even a decent person, honestly.”
Silence settles between. The kind that felt both accusing and inevitable, in a way.
Heeseung finally looks up at Jay, gaze steely. “I know who I mated.”
“Do you, though?” Jay questions, raising an eyebrow. “Because from what I can tell..he mated and married you to tick a box in that classic omega checklist."
The words land harder than Heeseung expected. He wants to say something. But what? He can't defend Sunoo when the plain truth is laid out like this in front of him. Especially by someone who's been by his side since day one.
Heeseung sits back, sipping his now lukewarm coffee as a sharp knot forms in his already tight chest. His mind wanders to Sunoo’s cold expression and colder words from this morning, Juwon's silence, the growing space between all three of them.
It wasn’t just a rift anymore.
It was a faultline. And something was bound to crack.