Sunggyu felt Woohyun’s cold toes against his thigh and sighed. For such a warm person, his boyfriend had very cold hands and feet and he just couldn’t get used to it. But that was not what was keeping him awake despite the sedative he had swallowed. Myungsoo’s face flashed across his mind – the streak of anguish and desperation as he talked about Sungjong.

Sunggyu had always had a hunch that Myungsoo was still suffering – suffering in silence because he wouldn’t open to anyone about it, but he hadn’t known that Sungjong still meant so much to him after all this time. For some reason, Sunggyu felt guilty about his brother’s situation, even though there was nothing he could have done. Except for telling him that Sungjong was still alive.

When he had followed Myungsoo out of the restaurant, for a split second he had made up his mind to tell Myungsoo the truth – “Sungjong’s alive, he’s alright.” He could say that with confidence because only a fortnight ago, he had received another message from Sungjong, letting him know he was well.

Sungjong had kept his promise; from time to time, he would let him know, in very discrete ways, that he was indeed alive. A note passed to him while getting his morning coffee, or an email from an untraceable address, a call from a phone booth in Paris. To be honest, Sunggyu had never tried to trace any of the communications and Sungjong probably knew that he wouldn’t.

Why was he so adamant about protecting Sungjong’s secret, protecting Sungjong – he had no idea. For the first time in his life, he had struggled with his own feelings. In a way, he and Myungsoo were both in the same boat. After his cognition improved, he knew what his feelings meant – the fact that he had sympathy, empathy, whatever, for the very man who had turned his life upside down, who had taken a good year away from his life, made him go through unbearable pain.

It probably helped that he couldn’t remember it - sometimes he would get flashbacks from the day when he was captured, little streaks of pain as he smelled blood and fear – but he couldn’t remember Sungjong’s image, sitting there in front of him, taunting him. The only memories he had of Sungjong were of the younger tucking him into his bed, sitting by his bed, holding his hand as he fell asleep, smiling at him fondly. That was the only Sungjong he remembered.

It was difficult to hate someone, no matter how well you know what they are and what they have done, when the only memory of them you have is of utter kindness. He didn’t even remember the day at the STR basement when Sungjong had revealed himself to be the Blood Lily. However, he knew why he had done it, why he had jeopardized the entire operation when he could have simply vanished without making anyone wiser while Sunggyu was arrested for the crimes he hadn’t committed.

As absurd as it sounded, he knew that he had done it to clear Sunggyu’s name. Because Sungjong was a great actor, a great imitator, but what he had felt for Sunggyu couldn’t be imitation. Whether it was love born out of sympathy or some other twisted kind of love, he had no idea but he knew for sure that Lee Sungjong, the Blood Lily, was in love with him.

Sunggyu was a calculating man, a man of deductions – he wasn’t wrong about this one. That was the only possible explanation behind what he had done. Love is the only thing that could cause intelligent men to make foolish mistakes.

He had gone to visit Minji once in prison – he had asked her one question. Why had she, being a person of integrity and righteousness had betrayed everything she had stood for? Her gaze had been answer enough – another example of love making a fool out of a smart person. No one was an exception to the rule, not even someone as cold-blooded as Sungjong.

What he felt for Sungjong was more complicated. As he turned to his side, Woohyun’s arm wrapped around the middle of his torso, he tried to put the facts in order. He hated drug gangs, dealers, anyone related with that industry for personal reasons – drugs were the reason he had lost his mother. Sungjong was the leader of the biggest drug gang South Korea had ever hosted and there were no defiling acts he wouldn’t order his men to do. He was the reason behind the ruin of countless people and it was clear that he had no regrets about it. He believed himself to be an emperor, a success and he wouldn’t give up that life. Even when he had been looking after Sunggyu, removed from his empire, he was still discreetly overseeing operations, ordering kills and deliveries, plotting ruins. He was the Blood Lily and he wouldn’t answer to any other name. He was also the one who had ordered the capture and torture of Sunggyu, even personally overseeing it.

They were the facts. Sungjong was a despicable human being. And yet, he found it difficult to feel any of the hatred he should garner towards him. Was it gratitude? But a year of looking after him and clearing him of charges he hadn’t been guilty of in the first place weren’t enough to cancel out any of the things he had done or the way he had deceived his brother to achieve satisfaction. And yet…

When Woohyun would rant about Sungjong, how unspeakably evil he was, and how he was glad that they had brought an end to him, he couldn’t sympathise. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t evoke the hatred, the fire in Woohyun’s voice. Logic dictated that he should despise Sungjong and he probably did, he just didn’t feel it. He thought about it, he could write about it, talk about it even, but he couldn’t feel it. That didn’t mean he loved him though, he was sure he didn’t. Especially since he was convinced he loved Woohyun – Woohyun, who had loved him and waited for him.

That however didn’t explain why he would feel glad every time he received another message proving that Sungjong was alive, why he made no effort to trace these messages, or tell Woohyun that his relief was unfounded and the mystery of why STR had shown no signs of slowing down was not because they had been unified by a new leader but because Blood Lily was still at large.

To some extent maybe it was because he couldn’t prove any of this; but Woohyun would still believe him and investigate. Or perhaps it was because if he indeed confided in him, he would also have to explain why Sungjong had chosen to let him know he was alive. Truthfully, he didn’t believe Woohyun, or anyone for that matter, could capture Sungjong, no matter what he told them. If he didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t find him, despite now having a full description of the Blood Lily. Besides, with the files about Blood Lily gone and Interpol not having much evidence against him, the best charges they could bring against him were the murders of Kris and Dr. Ok. It was still substantial but not even a fraction of what he had actually done.

As Woohyun’s soft snores grew louder and the night grew deeper, Sunggyu felt torn. Myungsoo was probably awake at this moment, thinking about another fond memory from their time together. His brother was innocent – he shouldn’t be the one suffering the most.

Gently extricating Woohyun’s arm from his body, he swung his legs out of the bed, fumbling with the alarm clock and his glasses on the bedside table before he found his cell phone. He walked barefoot to the living room, his feet feeling the soft fabric of the carpet. Turning on the light, he dialed Myungsoo’s number, squinting a bit without his glasses to find Myungsoo in his contacts.

After two rings, Myungsoo picked up. He had been right, Myungsoo was awake.

“Is everything okay?” was Myungsoo’s first question.

“Yeah, I just…couldn’t fall asleep.” He wasn’t doing a great job explaining why he had called. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t know why he had called. “Looks like you couldn’t too.”

“I was thinking about a case,” Myungsoo murmured in the soft voice that he used when he lied.

“Me too.” After a pause, he added, “Sungjong’s case to be exact.”

His words were greeted with silence but when Myungsoo spoke again, his voice shook.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you really believe the world would be a better place if he had been alive?”

Myungsoo snorted angrily.

“He would be in jail. Not much harm he could do from there.”

“He couldn’t do you any good from jail either.”

“Did Woohyun put you up to this?” Myungsoo’s voice was vicious. The last thing he had wanted to do was make his brother angry. It was getting out of control.

“Do you-do you remember him well?” he tried to change the subject.

There was silence again – Myungsoo was probably deciding whether to hang up or rage and storm. Finally, he said in a shaky voice, “Every kiss, every touch, every single freaking moment…”

Pretending he hadn’t heard Myungsoo’s sniff, he said, “It would have been better if you had forgotten, if something happened during the explosion that made you forget.” He meant it.

“Do you remember him? He spent more time with you than me.”

It was a loaded question, one that triggered questionable feelings. Myungsoo was standing on the ledge; if he got to know what Sungjong had truly felt for him, it would just tip him over.

“No, no I don’t really remember anything.” He had lied; he was a better liar than Myungsoo.

“Do you-do you think he really loved me or was it just pretense?” Myungsoo’s voice broke in the middle of the sentence.

Sunggyu remembered the last time he had seen Sungjong, at the baseball field.

“Look after him for me, won’t you?” he had said. It had to mean that at least some of his feelings for Myungsoo were real. There had to be some feelings involved. Or else how had he kissed Myungsoo, made love to him without Myungsoo realizing that something was wrong?

“I don’t know Myungsoo, but you probably do.”

Myungsoo’s sigh was wistful and lonely.

“I want to believe…so much…”

His broken words were enough for him to understand. He had never been good with handling emotions, especially not those of others. That was probably why Woohyun had been a breath of fresh air for him – he was the understanding the one, the one who could talk about things that were difficult for him. If Myungsoo forgave Woohyun, he could take over from Sunggyu. He knew that Woohyun would be able to give his brother a lot more support.

“You’re so clever hyung, can’t you figure out why he - why he came to me?”

Sunggyu bit his tongue. He couldn’t tell Myungsoo that Sungjong had actually come for him. It would devastate him beyond anything. There were many working theories about why Sungjong invaded their lives – he had wanted to get his hands on the Blood Lily files, he had wanted to figure out how much the police actually knew about him – he had never pointed out to Woohyun that all these theories had plot holes; Sungjong didn’t need to risk his life, his face to accomplish any of it. He had clever men and women within his ranks who would have sufficed for these missions. But he would never point out that his motivations had been personal.

 “It’s obvious isn’t it…the files?”

“You mean you believe the official version?”

The skepticism in Myungsoo’s voice meant he didn’t.

“Maybe we’ll never get to know. It’s just…good for everyone if we all – moved on.”

It was a subtle way of telling his brother that it was time he had quit moping and got back to his life. One person couldn’t have so much power over his life that his disappearance would uproot it completely.

Myungsoo said something like, “I don’t expect you to understand,” before hanging up, leaving Sunggyu feeling guilty. He couldn’t tell his brother Sungjong was alive, but Sungjong could. And just then, he made up his mind. Sungjong would definitely contact him again – this time, he would ask him for a favour. Sungjong couldn’t say no to him, could he?