Chapter 6

Crash!

With a sharp, jarring burst, the falling plate shattered against the floor. Naru stared at the broken pieces in disbelief, covering his ears and quietly counting to himself—one, two, three.

“Hey!”

Right on cue, Gyuyeon’s furious voice echoed through the house. He strode in with long, deliberate steps, his eyes sweeping over the wrecked kitchen. Clutching his hair, he let out a roar.

He cursed under his breath and pressed his palm to his forehead. It had only been a week since Naru moved in, and already half that time had been wasted on cleaning up disasters.

Gyuyeon was about to lose it. He’d brought Naru here expecting an apology, but instead, accidents kept piling up day after day. Yesterday it had been the imported French wine glasses. Two days ago, the showerhead. Three days ago, a potted plant. The list of Naru’s wreckage was already too long to recount.

Why am I the one suffering here? he thought bitterly. Naru should be groveling at my feet, not the other way around. Please, just stop messing things up.

“You think I’ll back down because of this? Who do you think you’re messing with? Clean it up. Now.”

“It’s not like that—ouch…!”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? What, you’re just going to pick it up with your bare hands?”

“You told me to clean it up right now…”

“What did you just say?”

What infuriated him even more was Naru’s shameless attitude. Every time Gyuyeon caught him, Naru would glance up with that same look that screamed, ‘It’s not my fault, the thing just broke!’ It made him want to explode.

And when Gyuyeon yelled, Naru’s meek, quiet answers only fueled his anger further. He’d expected Naru to break down quickly, but instead the quiet stubbornness made him feel like he was the one losing ground.

Now, when told to clean, Naru actually bent down and picked up shards with his bare hands, cutting himself in the process. Then, as if that weren’t enough, he shot Gyuyeon a resentful glare.

“Are you out of your mind? Are these rubber gloves just decoration?”

“You told me to clean it right away, so I was trying to do it quickly…”

“You stubborn little brat, won’t admit a single word. Damn it.”

Gyuyeon sneered, grabbed the neatly folded gloves from the shelf, and shoved Naru aside. He slid his hands into the dark gray gloves he’d specially ordered—because even dishwashing had to look stylish.

Naru stepped back and simply waited as Gyuyeon crouched down to gather the shards. Strange how, in just a few days, he’d grown used to letting Gyuyeon take over like this.

When Gyuyeon finally looked up, irritation flashing in his eyes, he realized something was off. Naru wasn’t supposed to be in a position of control, yet somehow, it felt like he was deliberately playing the submissive role—forcing Gyuyeon to handle things instead.

This can’t go on. He’s doing this on purpose. Why the hell am I the one cleaning? Pull yourself together, Yu Gyuyeon. Damn it. I need to break him, not let him break me.

Grinding his teeth, he tossed the shards into the trash. From now on, no matter what Naru did, he swore he wouldn’t let himself react.

But Naru’s thoughts were entirely different.

‘He even cleaned up what I broke by accident—so kind! Gyuyeon really is my owner now. My new owner!’

Gyuyeon had no intention of being anyone’s owner, nor had he ever imagined it. Yet in Naru’s eyes, he already was—and the realization was maddening.

“Hold out your hand.”

“Here…!”

“Wait—did you hit your head too? Anywhere else hurt?”

“My head? No, I’m fine.”

For a moment, Gyuyeon was speechless. Instead of simply holding out his injured hand, Naru politely presented both and leaned in, face tilted up like some kind of eager puppy.

Flustered by the ridiculousness, Gyuyeon twirled his finger near his temple, calling him a lunatic without saying the word.

Naru insisted he was fine, but Gyuyeon couldn’t believe anyone sane would act like this.

“Thank you for worrying about me…”

See that?! It’s obviously an insult—why does he think it’s concern? His head’s definitely not right.

Gyuyeon didn’t bother voicing his thoughts. Yelling more would only hurt his throat, so he gave up. Instead, he poured disinfectant over the wound—generously.

Naru winced but quietly said thank you again. He wasn’t used to treatment. In the past, the best he’d managed was smearing on random ointment.

“Ugh, this stings…”

“You’ve never learned basic common sense? You disinfect before you apply medicine.”

“Ah… ah.”

Naru’s eyes lit up, touched. He’d have been grateful for just ointment, but Gyuyeon disinfected carefully, even generously.

‘So much without holding back… rich people really are different. I love this place so much!’

He grinned, ignoring the sting.

“You’re smiling?”

“Because I like it so much…”

“Ha. Ha. Ha!”

Gyuyeon finally snapped. Naru should have been crying from the pain, but instead he laughed and said he liked it. Out of all people, Gyuyeon had to end up stuck with him.

He slapped ointment on, slapped on a bandage, and stood up abruptly. If he stayed any longer, his head might explode.

When Gyuyeon came back dressed to go out, Naru—bandage clumsily wrapped like a rag—was glued to his side. Gyuyeon hadn’t left the house all week, but now he was preparing to step outside.

During that week, he’d locked every window and door, refusing to let his guard down. He hadn’t wanted to give Naru even the slightest chance to escape. But today, he wasn’t worried about Naru running—he just needed to get away himself.

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t ask. I need distance from you.”

“Why… why…?”

“Don’t ask that either. I’ll be back. Just stay home.”

Naru timidly grabbed his sleeve, but Gyuyeon coldly shook him off.

I’m leaving the house because of someone, and that someone is you.

Throwing Naru a harsh glare, he headed for the shoe cabinet. Naru followed, standing in his way. His chest fluttered anxiously at the thought of being left alone.

“I’m not a stray dog, so why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s exactly what you look like—a stray dog.”

“Go inside quietly. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The label fit Naru too well. Gyuyeon left without another glance. The mechanical click of the lock had never sounded so cold.

Naru sat at the door, hugging his knees. This was Gyuyeon’s house. He would come back. No matter how long it took, Naru decided he would wait.

Soft classical music floated through the shop, the atmosphere one of refined elegance. Gyuyeon pushed open the gilded handle and stepped inside the familiar space—his first visit in a week.

‘destinée’

The dessert café’s sign was understated but elegant. The youngest son of the famous YK Electronics running a café had shocked many, giving gossips endless fuel. His brothers were busy scrambling for positions in the company, while the youngest lived idly, managing a little shop.

But Gyuyeon didn’t care. He’d given up on inheritance long ago. The buildings and stocks his father left were more than enough. This café was his dream, and he poured his pride into it—hiring world-class pastry chefs, skilled baristas, and staff he’d personally vetted.

The effort paid off. Praise flooded social media, word spread quickly, and ‘destinée’ consistently ranked first as Seoul’s must-visit café, as well as the top dessert spot nationwide. His pride was well earned.

“Hello, boss. You’re here?”

“Yeah. Don’t mind me, just do your work.”

“We had an Americano left over from a wrong order. Would you like it?”

“No. Make a fresh one.”

Seoyeon, arranging macarons, greeted him brightly. She’d worked here for two years, and though his answer was curt, she smiled and nodded. Inside, however, she cursed him for his prickliness.

He sat near the counter, legs crossed, scrolling his phone with a furrowed brow, brushing his hair back impatiently. Seoyeon carefully placed the fresh Americano down, wary of the mood.

Ding.

The bell over the door chimed.

“Welcome. This is Café destinée,” she said automatically, but her words faltered when she saw who had entered. She covered her mouth in shock.

Gyuyeon clicked his tongue at her clumsy reaction and turned toward the door. The moment he saw the visitor, his face darkened even further, sharp features twisted with displeasure.