TL NOTE:

🎄 **Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! ** 🎄  

Dear Readers,  

On these festive days that fill the air with joy and warmth, I want to thank you for your support and enthusiasm for the novels I translate. Thanks to you, each chapter is worth the effort, and I am truly grateful to have such a wonderful community of readers.  

May your Christmas be filled with love, laughter, and treasured moments with family and friends. And as we enter the New Year, I wish you endless happiness, success, and new adventures - both in life and in the stories we share.  

Thank you for being a part of this journey. There are many more exciting chapters ahead!  

***@@novelbin@@

Cold wind seeped through the gaps in the makeshift wall patched with wooden planks. Inside the roughly repaired infirmary, hastily fixed by Sa-young, the two men lay together on a narrow patient bed. To be precise, Uijae was being unilaterally held by Sa-young. For about half a day.

With every breath, Uijae could feel the rise and fall of the chest pressed against his back. He bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes. He had only come here to sleep for a bit, but instead of sleeping, he hadn’t even been able to close his eyes.

‘This is so damn uncomfortable…’

His hypersensitive senses picked up Sa-young’s presence behind him all too clearly. The lukewarm body heat, the faint rustling sounds, the smallest muscular movements—everything. Uijae thought about peeling off the arms and legs wrapped around his waist and legs but gave up. Sure, he could push them off, but it was obvious that they’d end up breaking something in the process, like, say, the bed.

Apparently, Lee Sa-young had calculated how much time was left before Uijae’s death. As the countdown ticked away, the frequency and duration of these moments of physical closeness increased. Uijae couldn’t bring himself to push Sa-young away. If he was being honest, the warmth reassured him. And, truth be told, the longer they stayed close, the more the synchronization rate visibly dropped.

Sa-young, who had been rubbing his lips and the tip of his nose against the back of Uijae’s neck, grumbled.

“Stop squirming.”

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