Ghost Apple

Cha Han-gyeom’s face, groaning with his shirt in his mouth, flickered in Seo Won’s mind.

He wanted to drag Han-gyeom back down onto the bed, strip him again, and this time, savor and caress every inch that he hadn’t had the chance to touch. He wanted to bite and kiss him thoroughly—wanted to see what kind of deeper, more intense guiding would pour out if he pushed him all the way to climax through relentless pleasure.

So this is what a guide’s imprint feels like.

He used to think that imprinting between Ability Users was an irrational, reckless act—staking an Esper’s life on it seemed utterly foolish. But now, he felt like he could finally understand. To monopolize a guiding like this—one that delivered such supreme ecstasy—how could anyone resist?

Just the memory of Han-gyeom’s body, writhing and reacting so sensually, and the sensation of his guiding, made Seo Won throb down below. The thought that this was something meant only for him filled him with a rush of uncontrollable joy and arousal.

He’s mine anyway.

A guide that belonged to no one but him.

There was no need to devour him all at once. Slowly—bit by bit—he’d consume him. He would savor him until he was addicted.

No need to rush.

Seo Won looked into the mirror sitting on the desk. His face had flushed red in the meantime.

The mirror reflected the inside of his shirt, still unbuttoned at the top.

There were no visible marks, but he remembered exactly where Han-gyeom’s lips had touched. And strangely, the black vein that had stretched all the way to that spot had now retreated—by about a finger’s length. No matter what he had tried, those tendrils had only ever crept forward until now. This was the first time they had started to shrink back.

He reached out and touched the place where Han-gyeom had kissed him. That spot was burning hot to the touch.

***

Back in his room, Han-gyeom didn’t even bother changing his clothes before collapsing onto the bed.

So tired…

Maybe it was because he’d used so much GP for the first time in a while, but his whole body felt heavy and sluggish.

As he lay there blankly, staring up at the ceiling, his hand brushed against the smooth surface of a shopping bag beside him.

He lightly tapped the bag with his fingertips. The bag, which had been standing firmly, toppled over with the nudge, spilling its contents onto the floor with a rustle.

A crisp, snow-white dress shirt made of luxurious fabric.

Neat. Pristine. Expensive.

It didn’t suit him at all—someone who had always lived dirty, messy, and worthless.

Even so, that man had told him to wear it.

A cheap shirt he wouldn’t care about no matter what got on it—that was what suited him.

Thinking about the man who had forced him into a shirt that clearly didn’t fit, Han-gyeom’s head throbbed.

The moment he sat up, the urge to smoke hit him instinctively. He got up and opened the drawer, revealing a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a lighter that had run out of gas.

He pulled out one of the few remaining cigarettes, stuck it between his lips, and flicked the round flint of the lighter.

Click-click. Sparks flew, but not a single real flame. He kept trying, thinking it would light eventually, but even after the skin under his thumb turned red, nothing changed.

Should’ve asked Jae-woo to grab me a lighter.

Of all days, the lighter he had stubbornly held on to, planning to use it until it completely died, just had to give out today.

Letting out a sigh, he pulled the unlit cigarette from his mouth.

“I’ll call for you every day. If you come back tomorrow reeking like that again, I’ll strip you naked and hang you outside.”

With half-lidded eyes, he glared down at the cigarette like it had personally wronged him.

Well, at least I won’t be strung up naked outside.

Because there was no way that man would ever buy him a lighter to spark this cigarette.

Never thought I’d even consider quitting for good…

Han-gyeom clenched the crumpled cigarette pack and the useless lighter in one hand. Then, without a hint of hesitation, he tossed both into the small trash can in the room.

And once he did, his headache flared even harder.

He sank onto the edge of the bed and pressed a hand to his forehead. His skin was hot—like he had a fever.

Not sure if this is from the headache or from… that.

Imprinting didn’t only affect Espers.

The resonance from imprinting could significantly impact the Guide as well.

When an Esper felt calm and secure, the Guide would experience that same sensation, like being wrapped up in a soft, cozy bed. That’s why imprinted pairs often felt better just by holding each other or staying close—even without active guiding. There were even rumors that exchanging pleasant emotions over a call or a text could mimic the effects of indirect guiding when apart.

In a similar vein, an Esper’s arousal could also influence the Guide. Once an Esper, intoxicated by guiding, became aroused, the Guide’s body would begin to respond with heightened sensitivity—an instinctive preparation for more effective guiding.

It was a built-in mechanism for fulfilling the Esper’s needs, as deeply and thoroughly as they wanted.

And so, a Guide brought to full arousal by an imprinted Esper would, in turn, channel an intensely concentrated guiding in response.

Whether it was touch, emotional exchange, or guiding, everything between imprinted pairs was believed to enhance each other—this was common knowledge among Ability Users.

Han-gyeom gently touched his chest. The spot where he’d been bitten and scraped still throbbed with a dull ache.

Come to think of it, I never got to experience this with Hyung.

Actually, it’d be more accurate to say… they never even considered the possibility.

The time he’d spent maintaining that imprint had been painfully short—and the imprint partner who’d passed away had cherished Han-gyeom far too much.

No—maybe it wasn’t even that. Maybe he just hadn’t wanted to become another “perpetrator” like the rest of the Espers.

Even though I told him I was okay…

Han-gyeom clenched the soft blanket in his hands.

The fact that the heart of his imprinted partner was still alive, through Seo Won, might just be a second chance for him.

A punishment for failing to protect his previous partner, and a different kind of atonement from what he owed Song Jae-woo.

It wasn’t as if he felt no resistance toward Seo Won—but it was bearable.

The contempt, the coldness, and the searing heat that sometimes flickered in his gaze were all too familiar. It reminded him of the Espers from that place. In a way, that made things easier. He’d been worn down over and over beneath countless such gazes before—he could handle this.

When he was with Song Jae-woo, it had always felt like there was a heavy stone lodged in his chest. But now, he felt surprisingly light, even to himself.

Recalling the black veins that sprawled across Seo Won’s body, Han-gyeom pulled out a vial filled with black-stained liquid. It was already half gone.

Once I’ve erased it all… then I can end it.

If he could free Seo Won from the Black Veins, then the heart of his imprinted partner would be able to go on living—from now on, without needing Han-gyeom’s guiding.

Han-gyeom pressed the hand holding the vial to his chest. The faint tremble of his heartbeat passed through his fingers and seemed to melt into the black liquid inside.

There wasn’t much time left anyway.

Once every last trace of him inside the vial disappeared, his own body wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

***

Just as he had warned, Seo Won continued to summon Han-gyeom every day after that.

And every time, Han-gyeom came without delay, never dragging his feet.

There wasn’t much point in staying in his room anyway. All he ever did was lie on the bed with his eyes open or sip tasteless, expensive tea while staring out the window. Compared to that kind of dull routine, this was better.

But even after calling him over, Seo Won would leave him alone for about one or two hours at a time. He didn’t touch him, didn’t order any guiding, didn’t assign him any work. He’d just have Han-gyeom sit there, in silence.

If Han-gyeom ever asked why he’d been called or tried to start a conversation just to break the suffocating silence, Seo Won would immediately show visible irritation. With a sharp look that said I’m working. Don’t bother me, he made it clear Han-gyeom wasn’t to interrupt. Then why bother calling him in so early at all?

It was boring either way, but at least being here meant he wasn’t lonely. It was better than being alone in a huge, empty room. At least here, there were sounds of someone moving around.

As usual, Han-gyeom sat quietly on the sofa, listening to the faint noises drifting from the office.

The rustle of paper against paper, the soft scratching of a pen gliding across the page, the rhythmic clacking of a keyboard, and every so often, Seo Won’s voice speaking with someone over the phone.

Listening to those sounds always made sleep creep up on him. Sure, just sitting around doing nothing was enough to make anyone drowsy, but more than that, the sounds themselves were simply pleasant to hear—soothing enough to lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Is this why people listen to ASMR?

Whenever he stepped into the office, his nerves would automatically go on edge.

This was the place where he’d signed the contract with a bitter heart, and the place where he’d always been pressured into guiding. It was only natural to feel tense. But sitting still, listening to all those ambient sounds, the tension slowly ebbed away until even his body felt loose and languid.

It wasn’t intentional, but just like always, he ended up falling asleep again.

Ever since he’d quit smoking, he hadn’t been sleeping well. He would wake up in the middle of the night, and even if he got up at the right time, he’d still feel exhausted.

So maybe it was no surprise that he’d dozed off again today. And, as always, when he woke up—

he was pinned beneath that man.