Chapter 45

Gyeol looked back and forth between Yo Han Sung’s two hands with a strange feeling twisting inside him.

Before the emotion could fully take shape, Yo Han washed his hands thoroughly at the sink and glanced around as though searching for something.

“Here.”

At some point, Jun Shin had moved over and set a first-aid kit on the table.

“Thank you.”

Seriously, that bastard was absurdly quick on the uptake.

Yo Han tilted his head, signaling for Gyeol to follow. Gyeol did not want to, but reluctantly trailed after him anyway.

As the two of them sat side by side at the table, Jun stared at them with his jaw clenched tight. The muscle along his jawline bulged before slowly settling again.

Then Jun clapped his hands loudly.

“Everyone else, let’s finish what we were doing. I’ll go check on the rice too.”

At a time like this, the only thing Jun could do was make sure Gyeol had one less thing to worry about by taking care of everyone else.

“Okayyy.”

The responses were halfhearted, but the cast eventually returned to their places.

Even Woo Seok Jung, who had been anxiously watching everyone’s reactions, started sniffling while chopping onions as though he were crushing them to death.

Once the attention dispersed, Gyeol finally relaxed a little and silently entrusted his hand to Yo Han.

Yo Han layered thick gauze over the wound and wrapped his fingers around Gyeol’s hand. Judging from the pressure he applied, he seemed intent on stopping the bleeding first.

Dozens of seconds passed like that.

Unable to endure the awkward discomfort any longer, Gyeol finally spoke.

“I can hold it myself.”

“Stay still. It’s fine.”

I’m not fine.

Gyeol swallowed the words with a sigh.

For some reason, Yo Han seemed to be in a bad mood. His brows were tense, his gaze lowered in visible irritation.

It was strange seeing someone so obsessive about managing his expressions in front of cameras act like this. At the very least, it did not feel like the naked malice Yo Han usually showed whenever they were alone together.

I seriously don’t understand him....

Once the initial shock faded, his finger began throbbing steadily. Time dragged endlessly while they waited for the bleeding to stop.

Unable to bear the suffocating silence, Gyeol spoke again.

“Shouldn’t it be okay by now?”

“You need to keep pressure on it for at least ten minutes.”

You expect me to sit here like this with you for ten whole minutes?

Was Yo Han seriously planning to keep holding his hand that entire time?

Gyeol genuinely could not understand why Yo Han was being this stubborn.

Worse still, Yo Han somehow looked even more annoyed after the question. His brows twisted sharply.

What is wrong with him? He’s acting irritated, but he won’t even say why.

The silence stretched on.

Gyeol felt unbearably uncomfortable. He glanced around pointlessly, sneaking looks at the others cooking in the distance, but time continued crawling forward.

“You really know how to make people worry.”

Gyeol wondered if he had heard wrong.

Who was worrying about whom? Yo Han Sung was worried about Gyeol Go?

The idea was so unbelievable that Gyeol stared blankly at him, half convinced he must have imagined it.

It was impossible to tell whether Yo Han was acting or being sincere.

But there was no way he could possibly mean it. This was Yo Han Sung, after all.

“And the thing with you falling into the ocean.”

“Ah.”

Things had been so chaotic that Gyeol had almost forgotten about it. Every day here was such a disaster that it felt as though an entire week had passed since then.

Thinking about it that way, it became easier to dismiss Yo Han’s behavior as little more than surface-level politeness.

The man had mastered acting. Pretending to be kind was probably effortless for him.

Having reached that conclusion, Gyeol responded in a similar tone.

“Thank you, then. For everything.”

But Yo Han’s face hardened.

A dry laugh escaped him.

“I wasn’t saying it to hear that.”

“You help me every time something dangerous happens.”

Only after saying it did Gyeol suddenly realize it.

Including the pheromone matching incident, this was already the third time Yo Han had helped him.

Yo Han was the one constantly cornering him, driving him toward the edge—

and yet whenever Gyeol found himself in danger, Yo Han was also the one appearing in front of him, reaching out his hand.

It was contradictory.

Just like Yo Han’s hands earlier—one stained with blood, the other with tears.

Before he could stop himself, Gyeol quietly asked,

“Why do you keep helping me?”

It was not for the cameras.

It was not acting.

This question came from Gyeol Go the person, not Gyeol Go the celebrity.

Not just the positive parts, either. The question carried everything Yo Han made him feel—including the fear, disgust, confusion, and suffocating pressure.

“Because you keep getting stuck in my head.”

The answer came instantly.

Their eyes met directly.

Yo Han’s gaze was always intense. Once it locked onto someone, it felt impossible to escape.

“You keep making me think about you, Gyeol Go.”

Was it just Gyeol’s imagination—

or did Yo Han actually sound sincere for once?

Gyeol parted his lips, unable to find a response.

Then Yo Han finally released his hand.

“The bleeding seems mostly under control now. I’m disinfecting it.”

“......Okay.”

Surprisingly, his hands were skilled.

As Gyeol stared at him wrapping the wound with meticulous care, Yo Han spoke as though explaining himself.

“When you film action scenes, you end up with little injuries all the ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) time.”

Right.

Yo Han Sung was famous for performing his own action scenes whenever possible instead of relying on stunt doubles.

There had once been a time when Gyeol admired even that about him.

The summer evening air, long after sunset, felt lukewarm against his skin. The surrounding noise blurred softly into the background.

A hand supporting the back of his own.

The sensation of fingers brushing over his skin.

Over and over again, Gyeol found himself thinking how strangely unreal this moment felt.

***

Thankfully, even without Gyeol’s involvement, dinner still turned out fairly decent.

After finishing first aid, he had tried to rejoin the meal prep, but everyone stubbornly stopped him, leaving him to hover nearby instead. That at least eased his mind a little.

They were all adults. There was no reason Gyeol had to take care of feeding everyone himself.

And yet he still worried.

Maybe he had already gotten used to it after only a few days.

“Looks like we won’t need Chef Go anymore starting tomorrow.”

Woo Seok Jung deliberately took the seat beside Gyeol and made the awkward joke.

Gyeol forced a reluctant smile.

The rest of the cast looked uncomfortable.

Only Tommy clapped enthusiastically, trying to keep the mood alive.

“Starting tomorrow, I’ll work extra hard for Gyeol too! Just leave it to me.”

“Thank you, Tommy.”

Gyeol smiled softly, and Tommy immediately beamed back at him from across the table.

Tommy had filled about eighty percent of the gap left by Gyeol during cooking. Years of filming eating-show content for Potato TV had clearly sharpened his cooking skills.

“Come to think of it, I never asked Hanseul this. Hanseul, are you good at cooking?”

Woo Seok abruptly changed the subject.

Lounging crookedly at the end of the table, Hanseul Ga rested his chin in one hand as he answered. He looked thoroughly uninterested in the food itself.

“Yeah. I even have a culinary license.”

“What? Then from now on, Hanseul should be the chef instead of Gyeol. Chef Ga.”

No one responded to Woo Seok’s joke.

Even Tommy—sweet Tommy—just darted his eyes around awkwardly before silently stuffing food into his mouth.

After all, Hanseul had spent the entire meal prep wandering around absentmindedly without actually helping.

Thinking the newcomer simply felt awkward, Tommy had earnestly tried to include him. He deliberately gave Hanseul an easy task—washing tomatoes.

But Hanseul rinsed a few tomatoes before suddenly announcing curiosity about how the rice was being cooked and wandering outside instead.

Did he at least socialize with the rice-cooking team afterward?

Not really.

He merely stood far away watching silently until smoke from the firewood drifted toward him, at which point he waved it away irritably and left.

The next place Hanseul headed was the table where Yo Han had been treating Gyeol’s injury.

But there was no opening for him to insert himself there.

Eventually, Hanseul returned to the cooking station.

At that exact moment, Woo Seok was dumping a pile of brutally mangled onions over the pork he had seasoned in the frying pan. Even to a beginner, the whole thing looked disastrous.

As though bestowing some great favor, Hanseul took the utensil from him and scooped some onions back out.

Woo Seok looked absurdly moved by the tiny gesture.

Even from Tommy’s perspective, the entire sequence felt bizarre.

After removing the onions, Hanseul immediately drifted away again, lingering nearby without really cooking at all. Tommy could not understand why Woo Seok seemed so emotional over it.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it, Gyeol. You can relax now.”

Gyeol also felt something off about it.

Sure, he had said he was fine—but less than an hour had passed since he cut his hand, and yet the person directly responsible, Woo Seok, was already trying to steer the atmosphere around like nothing had happened.

On top of that, Woo Seok was not usually this proactive.

Am I just being petty? I’m the one who made the mistake. If you’re holding a knife, you should be more careful.

Suppressing the uncomfortable feeling, Gyeol forced himself to place the blame on his own carelessness instead.

Woo Seok’s unusually excited mood still felt strange, but people’s emotions changed all the time, didn’t they? Someone in a bad mood could suddenly cheer up, and someone happy could sour instantly.

But despite Gyeol’s efforts to think positively, Woo Seok’s bizarre behavior continued throughout the entire meal.

He kept talking to Gyeol nonstop, loudly calling for Hanseul at random moments, spacing out before blurting comments that had nothing to do with the conversation.

At one point, he even repeatedly cut Yo Han off mid-sentence to interrupt him.

Eventually, even Tommy—who had desperately tried to salvage the atmosphere—completely gave up.

Dinner ended under an increasingly uncomfortable mood that never fully recovered.

***

After changing into more comfortable clothes at production’s request, the cast gathered around the campfire.

Just like the day Yo Han first entered the island, alcohol and simple snacks had already been prepared.

“I wish we got a late-entry twist every day.”

“No thanks. You just want another excuse to get blackout drunk.”

Everyone burst out laughing at the exchange between Hee Jun Kang and Jaekyung Park.

“Thank you for welcoming me so warmly.”

As a sort of drinking toast, Hanseul offered a short greeting before clinking glasses.

The awkward atmosphere lingering from dinner gradually softened once alcohol entered the picture.

They laughed and chatted as the night deepened.

Then suddenly, the notification sound rang out.

By now, everyone knew exactly what nighttime notifications meant.

“I’m gonna go first for voting today!”

Tommy jumped to his feet energetically.

At the same moment, the narrator’s voice echoed through the air.

—We will now begin today’s favorability vote.

—Right here. Right now.

—Please directly confess your feelings to the person who shook your heart today.