Come Back

“We’ve specially arranged for a highly skilled stylist to assist with Mr. Lee’s shopping today,” announced the manager with an ambitious look, introducing the woman with a black bob haircut who had been accompanying them since they arrived at the entrance.

“A globally active stylist based in LA, who will more than meet Mr. Lee’s excellent taste and standards…”

“No, no.”

Haeseong shook his head, setting his teacup down on its saucer, as if something about the introduction was bothering him. The manager, who had been introducing the stylist with such enthusiasm, fell silent, looking tense.

“Not for me. For him.”

Haeseong placed a gentle hand on Hongseo’s shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

“I thought I made that clear when I introduced him earlier, but I must not have been specific enough.”

Making no attempt to hide his irritation, he emphasized his words with a firmer tone.

“He is my partner—not just my boyfriend, and certainly not someone you can subtly sideline. Don’t worry about my preferences—focus on his. Is that clear?”

“Oh, yes, of course! My apologies for the oversight,” the manager replied, watching Haeseong closely, afraid he’d displeased him. Then, noticing the tense atmosphere, he repeatedly apologized to both Haeseong and Hongseo, looking just as flustered as when he’d heard one of Haeseong’s mysterious jokes.

As if that wasn’t enough, Haeseong got up from the sofa and walked toward the manager and stylist.

“Once he’s picked out a few items, you should get a sense of his preferences. He’s typically reserved about shopping, so even if he doesn’t explicitly say he likes something, go ahead and pack anything that seems fitting. The cost doesn’t matter; I’ll cover whatever exceeds the prearranged budget. But make sure it’s something he’d genuinely like and be happy with. I trust your skills as a capable stylist.”

Although Hongseo couldn’t fully understand their conversation, he noticed the manager and stylist’s faces visibly brightening as he finished speaking.

All three—Haeseong, the manager, and the stylist—looked at him in unison. Just then, he’d taken a bite of a rich, thick chocolate cake, and, sensing something foreboding, he slowly put his fork down.

“With such a beautiful physique and face, anything will suit you wonderfully. I’m already excited to style you,” the stylist gushed.

With that, she began presenting clothing, shoes, and accessories she’d pre-selected for Hongseo. The pieces seemed perfectly aligned with his taste, as though he’d picked them himself.

Some items were showcased by male staff members with model-like physiques and faces, strutting in a way that resembled a fashion show. The stylist demonstrated how to style each piece, and anything that seemed to catch his interest was immediately placed within reach for him to touch and examine.

“Would you like to try on the items you’ve selected so far? Knowing Mr. Choi’s exact size and fit would help us make even better recommendations.”

Urged by their enthusiasm, Hongseo was gently led to the fitting room. He managed to refuse an assistant for changing and finally got a moment to catch his breath.

Collapsing into a plush, velvet-covered chair, he looked around the extravagant fitting room, lavishly decorated as if it belonged to a foreign prince. It was larger than the apartment he currently lived in.

T-shirt, hoodie, pants, shoes, socks… his outfits were neatly arranged on hangers and shelves. He checked the price tags: an oversized T-shirt for $1,200, a hoodie for $2,800, pants for $2,300, even the socks cost around $400… The seemingly casual, streetwear-inspired outfit totaled well over ten million won.

Due to his profession, he was aware that such clothes existed and had even worn them for magazine shoots, but he’d never owned anything like this. Still, he didn’t want to spoil the moment by commenting on the price. If he chose one or two items carefully, it would probably satisfy him. Taking a deep breath, he set down the cardigan Haeseong had lent him and changed into the clothes.

“Thank you for changing! As expected, it looks incredible on you! You could easily pass as a K-pop idol,” the manager exclaimed in delight.

Haeseong and Hongseo exchanged a brief, amused glance, both aware that, whether as Choi Hongseo or Yoon Haean, he actually was a K-pop idol.

Setting his coffee cup down, Haeseong rose from his seat.

His face showed restrained emotion as he looked at him now dressed as Choi Hongseo, in clothes that suited his tastes. Moving closer, he pulled the hoodie’s oversized hood up over his head. Then, he cupped his cheeks gently with both hands, lifting his face slightly as he leaned down. His gaze overflowed with affection as he looked into his eyes. Ignoring the people around them, he acted as if they were the only ones in the room.

“Beautiful.”

“…”

“Our Hongseo.”

His voice trembled faintly, and as soon as Hongseo caught that slight tremor, his eyes began to mist up.

“Why are you tearing up again when I’m calling you beautiful?”

Shaking his head, he forced a smile, pretending he was fine.

After that, there was no need for him to try on any more outfits. Relaxing on the sofa with coffee and macarons, all he had to do was say whether he liked something or not. Clothes, bags, shoes, accessories… It felt like he’d seen a mountain of items. By the time he’d selected two outfits carefully, he was completely worn out.

Seeing Haeseong check the time, he felt relieved, assuming they were finished, but that wasn’t the case.

“Now, let’s look at watches. Something not too formal… a model that would suit him.”

“Coincidentally, we have a rare vintage model that would fit Mr. Choi’s image perfectly! It’s not displayed publicly, and we only show it to select clients.”

Hearing the word “watch,” the manager’s face lit up. He promptly instructed another employee, who soon returned with a sturdy-looking small trunk equipped with a digital lock. Wearing gloves, the manager carefully opened the trunk in front of Haeseong and Hongseo.

Inside was a watch winder neatly displaying around ten wristwatches.

“I think this model would suit Mr. Choi’s image well. What do you think?”

“Hmm… I think this one would suit him better.”

The model the manager recommended had a yellow dial, while the one Haeseong pointed to had a blue dial.

“May I put it on him personally?”

“Of course.”

Securing a watch on each of Hongseo’s wrists, Haeseong alternated between the two, examining each with a thoughtful expression. He was serious enough that his brows furrowed.

“Both models suit you incredibly well. Since most of Mr. Choi’s outfit choices are in neutral tones, adding a pop of color with the watch dial would be a great touch.”

“What about you, Hongseo? Which one do you like better?”

“…”

Although he was the one choosing a watch for himself, Hongseo hesitated to answer, feeling like a bystander in the decision. There were no price tags on the watches, but he knew each one on his wrists likely cost as much as a luxury car.

“Do as you want, ahjussi. I like that too.”

It was he himself who had answered Haeseong’s question about whether he had to keep holding back on what he wanted to give. By giving that answer, he’d effectively eliminated any grounds for refusal. Reading all his conflicted thoughts, Haeseong let out a laugh—one that seemed genuinely pleased.

“It looks like he can’t decide, so we’ll take both…”

“Blue! I’ll go with blue.”

Clinging to his arm, almost shouting, Hongseo said.

“Really? The yellow one seems to suit you as well.”

“No, blue. I like blue. Yellow’s not my favorite.”

He shook his head firmly, even going so far as to remove the watch with the yellow dial from his right wrist.

“He likes blue,” said Haeseong, as if it were something to proudly share with the staff. The manager, the stylist, and even other employees responded with smiles and laughter at his words. This time, the one feeling flustered was none other than Hongseo.

“It’s okay. They’re smiling because they think you’re adorable.”

Only Haeseong would think that way, but he didn’t have the energy left to argue about it. It finally seemed like the shopping was over, and now all he wanted was to relax somewhere quiet with just the two of them.

After sitting down on the sofa and completing the payment, the two of them were finally able to return to the car. The manager and stylist followed to see them off. He didn’t know how many hours they’d spent inside, but by now the sun was setting.

“Oh… I didn’t choose that many things,” Hongseo muttered, his eyes widening at the sight of staff loading shopping bags into Haeseong’s SUV. Slightly exaggerating, it looked as though two or three employees were endlessly carrying shopping bags. The trunk space alone wasn’t enough, so they were piling items in the back seat as well.

“This is strange. I didn’t pick this much.”

“It’s fine. You’re tired, so just sit down and rest.”

Unlike the bewildered Hongseo, Haeseong remained calm. He opened the passenger door and gently nudged him inside.

“No, this seems like a mistake. Can you check, please?”

After practically pushing him into the passenger seat, he leaned into the open door to fasten his seatbelt. Then, with a subtle gesture, he signaled to the manager standing behind the car.

“Hongseo, look here. I pulled out a pair of sunglasses for you ahead of time because the Malibu road might get bright. Good thinking, right? Let’s try them on.”

“…”

He looked at him in silence, like a child trying to divert another’s attention away from throwing a tantrum. He probably had a slightly pouty look on his face.

Pausing in the middle of putting on the sunglasses, he asked, “What?”

“I’m not really a kid, you know.”

With a sigh, Haeseong acknowledged the failure of his ploy. Leaning into the car with one hand resting on the top of the door frame, he lightly poked his cheek, like sampling whipped cream off a cake.

“I asked them to pack everything that might suit you.”

“But…”

“We need a lot of things, and we’re heading back home in a few days. We can’t spend all our time shopping.”

“Still… I chose carefully…”

“Didn’t you say I don’t need to hold back if there’s something I want to do for you? That’s what I remember hearing.”

“…”

He raised his brows, sounding slightly playful, and looked utterly delighted as he spoke. Knowing that he had added another smile to his collection, Hongseo could only press his lips together.

With a faint sense of dread that his words might become his own undoing, the car set off toward Malibu.