Cozy Obsession-Chapter 45

Heemin shifted his head slightly and looked at Dr. Hwang. The older man rubbed his finger under his nose, as if trying to suppress a scent.
Immediately, Heemin raised his right hand to his nose and sniffed. Of course, he couldn’t detect anything—he couldn’t smell the peach-scented pheromones that supposedly came from his own body.
“What’s today’s date?”
“May 3rd.”
“Oh, then there’s still time. My heat will start on the 15th.”
Unlike Alphas and Omegas who experienced rut and heat cycles every two to three months, Seo Heemin’s cycle wasn’t as predictable. But Heemin already knew exactly when Seo Heemin would go into heat—because he had read about it in the novel.
On May 15th, Teacher’s Day, Seo Heemin would curse his body for betraying him, losing control as he fell into Cha Iheon’s arms. It was such an absurdly ironic date that even Heemin had thought the author was being a little too cruel.
“You don’t have any suppressants, do you?”
“No, I don’t. I heard you need a prescription to get them. Can’t you bring me some, Doctor?”
Right now, there didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, even if his heat did come. Still, since this would be his first time experiencing it, it would be difficult to handle. It would be best to have suppressants ready just in case.
“I have to visit the Chairman’s house tomorrow, so I won’t be able to swing by. I’ll bring the suppressants the day after tomorrow, in the morning. Until then, make sure to keep your pheromones in check.”
Everything else was manageable, but pheromone control was something Heemin just couldn’t get used to. The human body didn’t come with an on-off switch—how was he supposed to regulate them at will?
Still, it wasn’t like he was constantly surrounded by Alphas. Ms. Ahn, Minseok, and Secretary Jung were all Betas. Only Iheon was an Alpha, so as long as he acted normal until the 13th and started taking suppressants early, it should be fine.
“This wraps up our consultation. Now, go to sleep. Cha Iheon is glaring at me so hard, I think I might end up with a hole in my head.”
With a light joke, Dr. Hwang got up from his seat.
Heemin glanced through the glass wall at Iheon, who was standing outside with an unreadable expression, his eyes sharp and intense. Then, adjusting his posture, Heemin closed his eyes.
Whether it ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) was thanks to the IV or Dr. Hwang’s advice, the cold that had gripped his entire body began to fade.
As his consciousness grew hazy, he heard the sound of the door opening and closing.
And Iheon’s urgent voice—demanding an update on his condition.
***
A cool breeze skimmed across his skin.
The early dawn air, thick with lingering night dew, pulled Heemin’s consciousness from the depths of slumber—like a fish caught in a net, dragged forcibly to the surface.
He was sure he had fallen asleep with an IV in his arm. Yet, the foreign sensation of a needle embedded in the crook of his elbow was now absent. He must have drifted off and slept through the night.
Dr. Hwang had done so much—coming late at night, treating him, giving him advice, and even promising to return with suppressants. Heemin felt a little guilty for not even properly thanking him before he left.
The tape that had secured the IV must have peeled off while he slept, yet not once had he stirred awake.
He couldn’t quite remember the details, but he felt as though he had dreamed of something deeply nostalgic. He lingered in that haze, unwilling to open his eyes, as if trying to grasp at the fading remnants of the dream before it completely slipped away.
Rustle.
A gentle breeze tousled his hair.
It was probably time to get up and close the window Dr. Hwang had left open.
Just as he began to lift his heavy eyelids, someone pulled the blanket— which had slipped down to his chest—back up to his neck.
There hadn’t been a single sound of movement. The lingering trace of pheromones in the air made him think he had been alone in the room.
Startled, Heemin squeezed his eyes shut and deliberately pretended to be asleep.
Holding his breath, he focused all his senses on his nose. A faint musk scent drifted through the air. It was subtle, barely perceptible—so light that he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been concentrating.
Iheon had always emitted pheromones so thick and suffocating that they seemed to grip his lungs. He didn’t seem sick, but his scent was unusually faint, as though it had been dulled.
Did he take an Alpha pheromone suppressant?
When his congestion worsened, Iheon became as feral as a wild beast. And yet, to avoid losing control, he had always carried suppressants with him.
There had been only one time—just once—when he had taken them on a whim before embracing Seo Heemin.
That night, when Seo Heemin melted against his body under the heat of Iheon’s skin, he had murmured that, for the first time, he didn’t feel like he was drowning upside down in water. That instead of feeling suffocated, it had been unbearably sad.
Now, Heemin thought he understood, even if just a little.
Iheon was right beside him, yet he could breathe easily.
He probably hadn’t taken the suppressant by mistake while drunk. Dr. Hwang might have suggested it as a temporary solution. The open window was also likely intentional—to prevent the faint pheromones that Iheon was still releasing from accumulating in the room.
It was hard to believe Iheon had actually agreed to it.
“Heemin.”
A low voice brushed against his ear.
Heemin hesitated, debating whether to answer or to continue pretending to sleep. But then, the voice came again—softer this time.
“Heemin-ah.”
It was just his name. Just his name, spoken without a surname.
Yet his heart pounded so violently that it felt like it would burst.
Afraid Iheon might hear the erratic thumping of his chest, Heemin clenched his fists tightly beneath the covers.
“Don’t get sick.”
A hand gently swept back the strands of hair stuck to his forehead. The touch was careful, tender.
The calloused fingers, rough and large, didn’t graze against his skin—they grazed against the depths of his heart, leaving behind a quiet ache.
If only he could always be like this.
But the moment he let his guard down, Iheon would don his armor of suffocating pheromones and look at him with those cold, merciless eyes—as if ready to pierce through him.
His overwhelming scent was unavoidable, a genetic trait. But the way he looked at people—that was something he wished Iheon could soften.
Still... I wish he hadn’t taken the suppressant.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
It was like offering dry, stringy chicken breast to someone suffering from indigestion. If Iheon couldn’t release his pheromones naturally, they would only build up inside him like poison.
Heemin wanted to tell him, You shouldn’t get sick either. I’m okay now.
But instead, he stayed silent.
Because in that moment, his selfishness won out—he wanted to keep watching this rare, vulnerable side of Iheon a little longer.
Suddenly opening his eyes now would make him look like some horror movie zombie, anyway.
Holding his breath, he remained perfectly still.
When Heemin didn’t react, Iheon slowly began stroking his hair again.
The way his fingers glided over his strands, as if soothing a sleeping child, was something Heemin had longed for.
It was a positive sign. It meant the keyword replacement project—his attempt to reshape Iheon’s perception of him—was going well.
Yet, oddly enough, the relief and happiness he should have felt weren’t there.
Because Iheon still called him “baby” rather than “you.”
Because that tenderness wasn’t directed at him—it was directed at the childish, fragile version of Seo Heemin that Iheon saw him as.
He had known that from the start. But knowing didn’t stop the faint loneliness that seeped in.
I thought this would be simple.
He had assumed this was just a game, a simulation where he simply had to follow the right steps—kiss, have sex, confess, and eventually get married.
Once that was done, the story would end.
But even if this was just a novel... it was still reality.
There were too many unexpected variables. And before he even realized it, he had grown attached—to the people, to the place, to Iheon himself.
He no longer wanted to be a stand-in for Seo Heemin’s multiple personalities.
He wanted to be seen as himself.
A wave of drowsiness crept over him, warmth enveloping his entire body.
Heemin tried to fight it, wriggling his toes under the covers in a weak attempt to stay awake.
But in the end, the soft caress of Iheon’s fingers, the warmth of the blanket, and the quiet presence beside him lulled him into sleep once more.
***
When Heemin opened his eyes, the bright afternoon sunlight had already seeped deep into the room.
Stretching his arms above his head with a long, satisfying yawn, he sat up in bed.
After falling back asleep at dawn, he had slept soundly—without dreams. Thanks to that, his body felt noticeably refreshed.
For a moment, he debated hopping on the treadmill for ten minutes, but ultimately, he decided it was better to focus on fully recovering his condition today. Instead, he turned toward the bathroom. He wanted to wash off the sweat he had accumulated overnight before sitting down to draw.
"I'm awake, Auntie."
Ms. Ahn was in the middle of vacuuming the living room. Flustered, she quickly turned off the vacuum and pulled out her phone. Heemin simply pointed toward the bathroom, signaling that he was heading for a shower.
"Go ahead and clean. I'll be back after washing up."
A moment later, a text message popped up on her phone screen:
[I'll prepare lunch once you're out. I made chueotang.]
Chueotang, huh?
A quiet chuckle slipped from Heemin’s lips.
Without a doubt, this was Iheon’s doing. It was the second time he had ordered a health-boosting meal.
He really was someone who took food seriously.
Did he eat properly himself?
Or had he, once again, been too busy and settled for nothing but a salad? That dry, oil-free chicken breast salad, of all things.
"Auntie, can I send just one text? It's for Iheon."
She had probably been given strict instructions never to let him use a phone again.
Even knowing she might not be able to escape responsibility if anything happened, Ms. Ahn hesitated only for a brief moment before handing over her phone. The word Chairman was enough of a magic spell to sway her.
Holding the phone so she could also see, Heemin tapped on the message icon.
As soon as he entered the number, the recipient’s name was automatically saved as Wooshin Capital – Chairman Cha Iheon.
They lived under the same roof. They had kissed—twice.
And yet, this was the first time he was texting him.
Strangely, it made him nervous.
What was he supposed to say?
He didn’t want to sound overly sentimental.
He just wanted to check in casually, like an afterthought—something light and natural.
Yet, no matter how much he thought about it, every draft felt too much.