Unrequited Love Thresher-Chapter 74: Bear With Me

What had he thought the first time he saw Ha Giyeon?

Thin? Pitiful? Kind? Pretty?

If you ignored appearances...

“Precious.”

Like a snowflake sealed inside a delicate glass orb—small, fragile, rare.

Though he sometimes showed signs of maturity, those moments didn’t feel like true adulthood. More like a child pretending to be grown up. Just as age eventually forces you into adulthood, Ha Giyeon seemed like he was pushing himself forward, step by step.

“Every day was the same. I went to work, came home... I felt like I’d spend the rest of my life like that. My life wouldn’t change, and it bored me. Everything about it bored me.

But then you showed up. And you smiled.”

When he smiled, he didn’t try to act like an adult. freёweɓnovel.com

It was pure, untainted. That smile felt so rare and valuable that it felt like luck just to witness it.

Every time those soft corners of his lips lifted, Son Suhyeon felt something even better than that first time he'd tasted ice cream as a kid.

He’d always thought that saying about smiles being contagious was nonsense, but it wasn’t until later that he realized he was smiling, too.

“I loved that smile. When I was with you, it actually felt like I was nineteen.”

What had his own nineteenth year been like?

Had he even smiled back then? Suhyeon couldn’t remember.

All that came to mind were the dull days of working and coming home. Nothing stood out. No single day had been worth remembering.

But every single day after he came back to school and met Ha Giyeon stuck with him.

Now—this was his nineteen.

He used to think school was just a place where you studied.

But now he realized—it could be a place where your day started beside someone else. Where the library wasn’t just for reading but for talking.

Where half your day could be spent with someone.

“I hated Ha Dohoon. That’s why I tried to stay away from you. I didn’t want attention. I just wanted to get through school without standing out. So I avoided you.

Because you were Dohoon’s brother... and because I felt inferior. I thought you grew up in a good environment. With parents. In a nice house. Unlike me.”

A nice house. Good family. Proper education. Ha Dohoon’s younger brother.

All those things naturally came bundled together in his mind.

He had assumed Ha Giyeon must be happy, living like Dohoon in a nice home.

“You said it that day in the locker room. That I didn’t know anything.”

“...That was—”

“I know it’s selfish, saying all this now. It probably sounds disgusting. But...

Tell me. I want to hear. I want to know your story.”

The moment Son Suhyeon’s gaze met his—steady, without the slightest tremble—Ha Giyeon almost blurted something out.

Should he tell him?

Even if he did, wouldn’t Suhyeon just reduce it all to a simple sibling quarrel? Some kind of falling-out with parents?

Even if he believed him—he was still just an outsider.

And yet...

“Why are you saying all this to me?”

“...That day, when you ran out of the café—I thought, honestly, maybe I really could do what I said. Keep my distance.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Wherever he went, all he saw was Ha Giyeon.

Every memory worth smiling over was tied to him.

“You might find it weird, but...

For me, the only places I can call ‘memories’ are the snack shop we went to, the park... and this house.”

At twenty years old, without any guardian, already forced into adulthood—Suhyeon’s life was filled with nightmares. Not memories.

Watching him, Ha Giyeon bit his lip. Then, as if he’d come to a decision, he opened his mouth.

“Sunbae... do you want to go to the park?”

“...The park?”

***

“Hoo...”

“Grab on. That’s hard, isn’t it?”

“...Thanks.”

After a moment of hesitation, Giyeon reached out and gently took the hand Suhyeon offered, letting him help as they climbed the mountain path.

Suhyeon had tried to talk him out of it—why the park, and why now, when he’d just recovered? But something in Giyeon’s expression was different. Resolved.

So Suhyeon had helped him change out of the oversized school uniform and into one of his own jackets. It was huge on Giyeon—the hem reached down to his thighs, and the sleeves flapped with every step.

Suhyeon rolled up the sleeves himself and held his hand tightly as they walked.

If it had been winter, Giyeon would’ve frozen, but in May, the cool air was just enough to carry them without discomfort.

Still, Suhyeon was worried.

Giyeon had only just gotten out of the hospital. He’d just broken his fever. If he overexerted himself, it could spike again.

Suhyeon wanted to carry him, but since Giyeon wasn’t /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ unconscious, he knew he wouldn’t accept it.

So he settled for just holding his hand.

When they finally reached the dim park at the top of the hill, Giyeon was breathless.

“Sit down on that bench.”

Suhyeon guided him to a worn wooden bench. It was dirty, marked with stains and dirt, so he took off his jacket and laid it over the bench before helping Giyeon sit.

“Huh? Oh, wait, this jacket is yours—”

“It’s fine. Sit.”

He pressed gently on Giyeon’s shoulder until he sat down.

Once he caught his breath, Suhyeon offered him a bottle of water.

Giyeon drank in large gulps, then looked up at him, hesitantly.

He had something to say, but the words were stuck.

Noticing, Suhyeon gently turned his gaze.

“You can see it clearly from here.”

Above them, the sky was dark. But below—spread out like stars fallen to earth—was the city, glowing brightly.

“Ah...”

It was the same beautiful view Giyeon had seen before the regression.

He stared, lost in the lights.

Suhyeon, however, only looked at him.

The city lights reflected in his eyes, and his faint smile was more beautiful than the skyline.

“...You told me before. That if we came back here, I should tell you.

So I will.

Will you listen?”

He seemed calm now, like his heart was set.

Suhyeon nodded.

“I’m... basically invisible at home.”

The story began there.

He spoke slowly—about his parents’ neglect, how he had once clung to his brothers, and how he grew to hate that about himself. About why he worked part-time jobs.

Suhyeon listened quietly, as though reading a children’s storybook.

He didn’t react.

Or rather—he tried not to. He tried not to let the shock or sorrow show.

What stunned him wasn’t just the content of the story.

It was the way Ha Giyeon said it—as if it wasn’t his life.

Like he’d told it so many times he’d grown tired of even feeling anything.

It was heavy.

And yet he spoke it as if it were routine.

“...That’s why I started saving up to move out.”

Giyeon spoke of his parents and brothers like they were strangers.

Even calling them “parents” seemed awkward for him. He clearly wanted nothing to do with Ha Dohoon.

“A kid like me, raised in a ‘good home’... saying all this probably sounds like a joke, right?”

“It’s not funny.”

Suhyeon suddenly stood and cut him off.

Giyeon blinked and looked up.

It was too dark to read his face—but his voice left no room for doubt.

“Not funny at all.

You’re amazing, actually.”

“W-what? No, I—”

“It must’ve been hard, trying to change like that... You’re incredible.”

“...”

Giyeon had always hated himself—always berated himself for standing still.

He thought working part-time to prepare for being kicked out made him pathetic. Pitiful.

But that single, quiet compliment—“You’re amazing”—

felt like a validation.

Like someone finally said: You’re doing great.

It made his heart ache.

Suhyeon inhaled slowly, voice trembling.

“...I know your life is busy. I know the time you spend with me is just a tiny part of it.

But... could you give me even that small part?”

He knew the pace Giyeon lived by.

If he let go now, even their memories would be trampled under the weight of his daily survival.

But Suhyeon didn’t want to be forgotten like that.

He didn’t want to go back to how things were before seeing Ha Dohoon.

He wanted more.

He wanted to become someone Giyeon could lean on.

Giyeon was strong.

Someone like him would move on quickly, leave him behind.

That was why Suhyeon wanted to walk beside him.

So...

“I, I want... I...”

How could he say it?

How could he make his heart understood?

He stammered, words failing him—until finally, he dropped to his knees in front of Giyeon.

“S-Suhyeon-sunbae...!”

The moment their hands met, the flickering, broken streetlight above them buzzed to life.

As if spotlighting them on a stage, the pale beam lit up the bench.

Only then could Giyeon see his face clearly—

Twisted, as though he were about to cry.

And Suhyeon finally spoke.

“...Please.

Bear with me.”