Seo Joon and Woo Bin slowly wandered through the vast house, their steps cautious yet full of wonder. The place was enormous, filled with countless rooms, each one carrying the weight of time and secrets. The deeper they went, the wider their eyes grew, caught in awe of the house's grandeur. Every corner whispered with the elegance of old Korean architecture—wooden beams carved with delicate patterns, sliding doors crafted from translucent hanji paper, and polished floors glowing faintly beneath the soft light of small bulbs scattered across the ceilings.
The walls were adorned with traditional calligraphy scrolls, their ink strokes faded yet alive, while small clay pots lined the edges, each filled with dried herbs carefully preserved.
Seo Joon's gaze moved from room to room. Some were small and intimate, meant for meditation or study, their floors laid with woven mats. Others were wide halls with low wooden tables and embroidered cushions, once designed for gatherings or tea ceremonies.
Woo Bin's eyes sparkled with childlike excitement."This house… it looks like a king's palace," he said, his voice tinged with awe. "If it's still so beautiful now, just imagine how glorious it must have been when it was new. Think about the people who lived here, Seo Joon. The kind of life they had, the respect, the status… generations might have passed within these walls. It's almost unreal."
Seo Joon glanced at him, amused by his wonder. "You like ancient places, don't you? Old houses, historical sites?"
Woo Bin smiled, almost shyly but with deep conviction. "Very much. Ancient places feel alive to me. They carry the weight of the lives once lived there. A palace, for example—people may only see it as a king's residence, but in truth… it has witnessed so much more. Crimes, love stories, mysteries, tragedies. Those walls must hold thousands of secrets the world will never know. The palace itself remembers, even if people forget. Those hidden stories live on within the place."
Seo Joon's smile faded into thought. "You might be right. But maybe the life of a house dies with the people who lived in it. When they're gone, their secrets go with them. And what's left behind becomes nothing more than ruins." woo bin paused, his eyes tracing the fine details of the wooden carvings around them. "But this house… it feels different. Looking at it, I can't help but feel like it's still alive. Like it's holding onto its own story. Its own secrets."
seo joon tilted his head toward Woo Bin. "So tell me—what do you think? If this place has secrets, are they good… or are they dark?"
Woo Bin glanced around, the silence of the house pressing down on him. He drew in a slow breath before answering. "If you listen carefully… this silence feels heavy. I think the secrets here might be frightening. Sad, even. The kind of stories that linger like a shadow, untold and forgotten. And yet…" His eyes landed on the beautifully decorated walls and the faded paintings, their frames coated with dust. "These paintings tell another tale. They feel like witnesses to someone's love. Like this house isn't just holding grief—it has seen moments of affection too."
Seo Joon's expression softened as he listened. "Maybe you're right. Perhaps one day we should try to uncover the truth behind this house." Then, with a faint grin, he added, "But for now… how about we find the kitchen first? Aren't you hungry?"
Woo Bin let out a small laugh. "Yes, starving. Let's go."
They moved further along the corridor, having already explored most of the rooms on that side. Just as they turned the corner, something stopped them in their tracks.
Against one of the far walls hung a massive painting—larger than any they had seen before. It depicted two young men, their faces achingly beautiful, gazes locked onto each other with a depth that spoke of something unspoken yet undeniable. The emotion in their eyes was raw, a connection too intimate to mistake.
Woo Bin felt his chest tighten, his Omega instincts stirring with a deep melancholy. "This painting…" he whispered, stepping closer. "It feels like sorrow. Like pain is hidden in it."
He reached out a hand to touch the frame. As his fingers brushed the dusty edge, an overwhelming sadness washed over him, as though the painted figures carried a grief too profound to fade.
Seo Joon's Alpha instincts flared sharply. To him, the painting did not feel merely sorrowful—it felt dangerous. Wrong. His pulse quickened, a cold sense of threat curling around his core. Quickly, he moved forward and pulled Woo Bin's hand away from the canvas.
"Don't," Seo Joon said firmly, his tone low, protective. "There's something about this painting… something we shouldn't linger on."
Woo Bin blinked at him, startled. Seo Joon exhaled slowly, then softened his expression, masking the unease."Come on. Let's leave this place behind. I'm hungry, and I'm sure you are too."
Together, they turned away from the unsettling painting. The corridor stretched before them, lined with wooden lattice panels, faint incense drifting in the air. At the very end stood a brass-tagged door, its inscription clear: "Jib-sik" — (Kitchen).
And with that, they walked forward, deeper into the house's silent embrace.