"You look bored out of your mind too."
"..."
Before I could react, a hand reached over my shoulder and pushed the man back into his seat.
"Don't do anything stupid. He's a Beta."
The next moment, my body was lightly drawn back. When I looked, he was glaring at the man with a vicious expression. The effort he'd been making to hold down his annoyance a moment ago was gone from his face.
Only when I heard ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) him did I realize the man had been releasing pheromones. Just like with Inwoo, I couldn't feel anything at all.
The man lifted both hands as if to prove his innocence and leaned his upper body back.
"I didn't think he was an Omega. As you know, though, this isn't something you control."
Even as he feigned a defensive posture, the man kept twirling a smile.
"If you're leaking so badly you can't even hold it around a Beta, you take meds, right?"
He caught my arm and drew me toward him, using me as a line between them, and his warning came out tight, each syllable clipped.
"Ah, to you any non-Golden Alpha is a case for medication, right? Not everyone gets lucky and turns out a Golden Alpha like you."
"Lucky?"
"..."
His voice split sharp as it caught on the offending word, and the man shut his mouth and looked away, as if realizing he'd touched what he shouldn't.
He took a sip of champagne, set the glass down, and rose from his chair.
"We should get going. Sorry—we've just made a mess of the mood."
I got up awkwardly after him.
"What, is the cheap pheromone stink making you sick?"
The man was desperate to squeeze some extreme reaction out of him to the end. For all the stabbing words, the eyes he shot up at him from his seat wobbled with resentment and appeal.
Suddenly I remembered my old self wondering what it would feel like to be "especially" hated by him. Among the people surrounding him at Phantom's exhibition, there must have been those who wanted to become "special" to him even if it was on the side of being hated.
Maybe what this man wanted from him now was that same kind of crooked hope—that was all I vaguely guessed.
"Still putting on airs all by yourself. Pheromones that aren't Golden make you sick, so the one you drag along is a dull little Beta, huh?"
Knowing how sensitively he reacted to pheromones and how fastidious he was about them, the man kept gouging at just that point. I wondered if he'd once been severely called out by him over pheromones, but however I looked, the man's stance didn't seem rooted in hatred or revenge.
Buttoning the jacket he'd left undone and circling out from the chairs, he finally stopped and looked back at the man. The downward gaze had no temperature at all, not even cold—just lukewarm.
He snorted lightly.
"Can't even trust yourself to seduce a one-night partner without pheromones, and yet you still puff yourself up because you're an Alpha?"
If my hunch was right, I would never understand what satisfaction the man got from drawing out a reaction like this from someone he craved. I turned my eyes away from the man's face looking up at him as if slashed to pieces by a blade he'd himself provoked.
"Even if you're an Alpha, if you're a train wreck like you, a Beta is better. Even without the title Alpha or whatever, anyone in here would pick him over you."
"..."
"So don't you ever again let that cheap pheromone spill on him."
Unshaken, but biting the words out as if chewing them to a pulp, he drew a hand to my back and turned us away. The set line of his mouth looked as if he regretted bringing me here.
From what I'd read, Omegas generally couldn't smell each other's pheromones, and Alphas could distinguish another Alpha's pheromones by scent but it didn't lead to sexual arousal.
Only Alphas and Omegas were set up to be aroused by the pheromones they detected through smell from each other.
The higher the tier of Golden Alpha, the stronger the fertility, of course, and the more they could release pheromones an Omega would find hard to refuse, while also having superior resistance to an Omega's pheromones. Because they could stably protect themselves from a sudden acute rut triggered by an Omega's pheromone stimulus, they could live, by their own will, almost like a Beta.
Not only did they have high offense and defense regarding pheromones at once, they could keenly discriminate Omegas and other Alphas' pheromones. So Inwoo calling him an Omega inspector wasn't an exaggeration. If he was at the very top among Golden Alphas, telling Alpha, Omega, and Beta apart would take no more effort than distinguishing apples, strawberries, and bananas by smell.
Knowing how strict he was about pheromones, I could guess at least somewhat the displeasure he must be feeling because of the man just now.
No—even without his fastidiousness, the man had provoked him with excessive rudeness. If anything, I thought he'd shown considerable patience. I didn't want to fault him as needlessly cruel for his last riposte.
Besides, he'd tried to avoid a clash by leaving, and the fact he finally responded was "probably" because of me.
If the man hadn't ended by saying he "carted around a cheap little Beta," he would have ignored the provocation and walked away. He might have been responding to being treated as someone who keeps something trivial at his side, but that wasn't all of it.
At the very least, I was no longer a nothing to him, not something he could pretend not to see when I was insulted like that.
I was grateful for that, and felt a sweetness ring at the edge of my heart... moved, really. How could I not be.
But maybe because of the tangle of feeling I saw in the man's eyes when he looked at him, I couldn't be purely glad. It wasn't for some good reason like pity or empathy for the man. It was a more self-centered imagining.
Who could be sure that, after spending more time by his side like this, I wouldn't end up ugly like that man.
"Let's step out to the terrace and get some air."
He didn't open his mouth until we'd come to the stairs leading up to the second floor, well away from the tables. The space between his brows was still tight, and he didn't quite meet my eyes, but his inviting voice was gentle.
The second floor was set up mostly with couch seating. Groups and couples lounged into the soft sofas, enjoying music, drinks, and talk.
Under lighting a shade darker than the first floor, we passed a man and woman trading deep kisses without a care for their surroundings and stepped out onto the terrace.
"Ah..."
Without having to go up to the Victoria Peak lookout, Hong Kong's night lay spread right below our feet. Even I, not quick or intense in my reactions, let out a breath of admiration.
Cliché as it is, the whole city glittered as if dusted with stars. I knew it was man-made light wrought by civilization, yet for a moment I felt overwhelmed as if witnessing a mysterious natural phenomenon.
He glanced back at me, mouth open in wonder like a child watching fireworks at an amusement park, and showed the faintest smile. I felt sheepish for acting like a kid again, but if I could make him smile even a little in this moment, that was enough.
Across the wide terrace, large candles hooded with clear windshields stood in for mellow lighting, and, as inside, soft sofas were spaced apart. From speakers fixed to the wall, the jazz being played on the first floor flowed out and deepened the feeling of the view before our eyes.
Whether they were couples who'd come together or lovers formed in a rush for tonight alone at this party, people in pairs had slipped out of the crowded floor to trade whispers and heavy skinship.
We sat side by side on the sofa at the far end of the terrace. As soon as we took the seat, champagne was set down.
"We worked together before, and even then we didn't get along. He's the type who wears being an Alpha like a medal, and he has a record of causing problems at the company over pheromones, so we clashed over that. As expected... he couldn't let tonight pass quietly either."
As if regretting having said too much—unlike him—he pinched his brows hard once and shook his head.
To me, the man seemed less hostile to him than starving for his attention with his whole body... but that was only a hunch from someone with zero dating experience.
A cool breeze blew, enough that the air-conditioning was pointless. Right in front of our seats facing the terrace rail, dense garden trees half-screened the view, which was probably why the most tucked-away, secret spot had been left empty.
Bending forward with his arms braced on his thighs, his clean profile looked like he was chewing over the unpleasantness from earlier. As I watched him, searching for something to say to comfort him, a stranger scent swirled under my nose.
The source was definitely him at my side. But it wasn't "that scent" I knew; it was another. The perfume my sister had described as his taste—dark—was different from the scent of him I knew. The moment I realized that, I felt a deep relief.
Since both were his perfume, it shouldn't have mattered, and I couldn't explain by what standard that one was unpleasant and this one was fine, even to myself. It wasn't something I could stop just because I disliked it, anyway.
And yet, merely knowing he hadn't shared that scent with someone else tonight let me relax. Foolish as that was.
After staring at one spot on the ground for a long time, lost in thought, he looked up at me with a wry smile.
"Sorry for that pathetic scene. A grown man was a bit disgraceful."
I shook my head, firmly, several times.
"Saying someone can't even seduce a partner without pheromones... honestly, I don't even have the right to criticize like that."
He muttered like to himself and emptied his glass in one go.
I didn't know why he judged himself so harshly. Even Inwoo, a close friend, said he used pheromones so little he seemed like someone trying to be a Beta.
Maybe the scuffle over pheromones had only pushed someone already strict with himself into even more needless self-criticism.
"Director... you could more than seduce without pheromones. If you wanted, anyone."
He'd been quietly refilling his glass; his hand stopped and he looked at me. It was a joke to try to make him smile, and I worried it might have sounded tone-deaf.
"You think so?"
But seeing him give a short laugh, it seemed it landed as a joke, at least.
"Yes. You wouldn't need something like pheromones."
"I don't really think so." Murmuring it in English like to himself, he raised the filled glass and drained half at once.
"You're handsome... your business sense is excellent... and you're always dressed sharp...."
He suddenly burst into laughter. Low, but definite. Then he looked at me with the residue of it still on his face.
"Are you trying to cheer me up right now, by any chance?"
"I'm... clumsy at it, right?"
Heat pooled in my earlobes at the childishness of listing kindergarten-level compliments to comfort him. I was glad the dark hid it.
"But it's not a lie. Honestly, you know all that. If you said you didn't, that would be more annoying."
When I glanced up at him, the stiffness and self-reproach had faded a lot from his eyes and mouth. That was enough. The embarrassment passed. He hadn't mocked my childish way of comforting him. Rather than laughing it off... his gaze on me had grown deeper.
The way his eyes moved slowly, as if carefully feeling over each part of my face, made me tense without meaning to. Was this his habit for reading a face?
On the wind that stirred the branches, a scent touched my nose. This time it was the one I knew well.
Without thinking, I leaned forward and drew a breath. His shoulder was no more than a handspan from mine.
"I thought you weren't wearing that perfume today."
"I mixed several. I hate overlapping a scent with someone even more than running into someone in the same clothes."
Saying that, he drained his glass and set the empty on the table. Then he hooked an arm over the backrest and turned his body toward me. His long, solid arm ran across behind my back.
Just angling his body this way made the scent thicken. With his arm up, it was as if the fragrance poured out from his opened chest.
"Do you really want to make me feel better?"
I nodded. He bent the arm resting on the back and toyed with my hair. The hand that lightly rubbed the ends slid past the rim of my ear and closed gently around the nape revealed there.
Sliding closer, he turned his head and pressed his lips right to my ear. The damp breath alone made my shoulders jolt.
"It's not that... there's no way at all."
The whisper felt like a metaphor for a secret meant to stir curiosity. The husky low tone was sweet, as if gently scratching along my belly.
The high bridge of his nose brushed my ear and slowly crossed my cheek. When it neared the tip of my nose, his face tilted, changing angle. I drew back just a little—not to refuse, only out of fluster and surprise, with a trace of fear.
