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The new, strangely peaceful atmosphere scares Bum at first.
He finds himself almost missing the constant threat of punishment and torture hanging over his head. At least when things were like that, Bum didn’t have to wonder what was going on inside Sangwoo’s mind. This calm, seemingly kind version of Sangwoo disturbs him, now that Bum knows what he’s capable of. It’s unnerving, like the calm before the storm, and Bum can’t help but anxiously anticipate the moment anger inevitably grabs hold of Sangwoo again. He has a feeling it will be twice as violent, and if Bum lets himself get too comfortable, he won’t be ready for it.
Yet, the days pass with no sign of change, and the two of them slowly settle into a new routine. Sangwoo allows Bum to sleep in his bed now, and when Bum frantically apologises in the morning because he accidentally hogged most of the blanket in his sleep, Sangwoo’s smile could almost be described as fond. In the mornings Sangwoo unwraps Bum’s bandages with concentration and care before lifting him into the bath. He’ll wash his hair, massaging his scalp with his fingers until Bum can’t keep his eyes from fluttering shut. Sometimes he even reaches between Bum’s legs and gets him off without asking him to do the same, even though Bum always eagerly offers to return the favour. Once the water goes cold, Sangwoo carefully dries Bum’s body with a soft towel before wrapping him in fresh bandages and clean clothes.
If the poison incident hadn’t happened, it might have been easier for Bum to allow himself a sliver of hope. He might have tried to convince himself that Sangwoo has come to like him enough to consider him company rather than just another victim. A friend, maybe. Or even…
But Sangwoo’s kindness can’t be genuine. Not after what happened. Besides, as much as Bum would like to deceive himself, this isn’t the old Sangwoo that he thought he knew. Bum can always see the madness in his eyes now, no matter how kind his words or how warm his smile.
They’re living in a bubble that’s going to burst soon, and violently at that. Bum knows that.
That’s why he hates himself so much when he allows himself to be manipulated into feeling a spark of hope, after all.
Sangwoo has cooked dinner for Bum as a surprise. Bum is allowed to sit across from him at the large table, which is set especially nicely today. Bum isn’t naive enough to trust the situation right away, but when Sangwoo lifts his spoon to his mouth without any visible concern, Bum joins in. He has to admit that the stew is delicious. The flavours are amazingly balanced, and Bum can't remember when he last tasted meat this tender and juicy.
As they quietly eat the food, Bum briefly catches himself wondering if this is what it’s like go on dates or to have a boyfriend. And almost as if he senses Bum’s temporary weakness, Sangwoo chooses that exact moment to reach across the table and cover Bum’s hand with his own.
Bum wonders just how pathetically lonely someone must be to find hope and comfort in the touch of the serial killer who is holding them hostage.
“I really liked the stew,” he says with a small smile once they’ve both emptied their plates. For once, it's a genuine compliment. “What was in it?”
“Ah, trying to get the chef to reveal his secrets, are you?” Sangwoo links their fingers together and squeezes. “Come on, we’ll worry about the dishes later. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Anxiety wells up in Bum’s chest. “S...surprise?”
“Don’t worry, it’s a good surprise!” Sangwoo pinches his cheek with his free hand. “I promise you’ll like it. Come on, let me pick you up.”
Bum has gotten used to being picked up and carried around by Sangwoo as one of his main ways of moving around the house, so it doesn’t worry him at first. When they reach the door to the basement, however, he desperately clutches at Sangwoo’s shirt and looks at him with pleading eyes. “Please don’t take me back there.”
“I won’t leave you there, I promise. I told you that you’d like the surprise, didn’t I? Don’t you trust me?”
Bum doesn’t trust Sangwoo, but he doesn’t have much of a choice. He lets himself be carried down the stairs into the dark, damp basement. Even though not one part of Sangwoo’s house feels safe, his memories of this room in particular make him shiver.
He notices the body as soon as Sangwoo turns on the light. He looks away from it, hoping against better judgement that the surprise has nothing to do with it. Part of him wants to be able to deny what Sangwoo gets up to so that they can keep up the charade, and staying away from the basement has been helping with that.
“You’ll want to look closer,” Sangwoo says, approaching the body on the floor with Bum still in his arms. There’s a hint of pride in his voice. “I did this for you. Look.”
Reluctantly, Bum looks down at the body. It’s a man, and he can’t have been dead for long because there isn’t much of a smell. His neck is almost completely severed, leaving his head barely attached to the rest of his body.
Then, Bum looks at his face.
“No,” he whispers, tears forming in his eyes. He shakes his head rapidly, as if it will clear up his vision and reveal that he’s just hallucinating again.
“Hey, don’t cry!” Sangwoo carefully sits Bum down next to the corpse. “He used to cause you so much pain. Aren’t you happy? Smile for me!”
Bum wipes his wet cheek with his sleeve and reaches out to touch the corpse’s cold cheek, just to make sure he’s not imagining this.
His uncle.
No matter how he feels about him, the fact that it's a familiar face on a gruesomely murdered body in Sangwoo's basement fills him with nausea, and he’s dizzy with the swirl of mixed emotions rushing through him. He starts to sob.
“Hey now, do you realise how much effort it takes to go for a specific victim instead of picking up some old pervert or a pretty girl at a bar?” Sangwoo kneels next to Bum, rubbing his shoulder as his tears hit the floor and mix with the pool of dried blood around his uncle’s head. “He can’t hurt you ever again. And now you really don’t have anything to go back to. You can stay with me, and we can be happy together.”
“I...I’m happy,” Bum whispers, terrified to sound ungrateful. His shoulders won't stop shaking as he tries to stop the flow of tears.
“Good.” Sangwoo kisses him, pushing his tongue into his mouth despite the snot running down Bum’s face and the bile rising in his throat every time he glances at his uncle. His eyes are hollow and his tongue is limply hanging from the side of his mouth like a slab of raw meat. “That’s not the only surprise, though.”
At least, Bum figures with a morbid sense of relief, there isn’t anyone else Sangwoo could have taken from him. His uncle was all he had. He was the only person who might have noticed he was missing, although besides the absence of Bum’s trembling body beneath him, he probably didn’t care much. “What is it?” He asks weakly.
Sangwoo points at a dark corner below the stairs, at a large freezer that wasn’t there before. Bum’s stomach turns when he tries to imagine what could be inside. “What is it for?”
“You said you enjoyed the stew, didn’t you? This is where I'll be storing the secret ingredient so that we can enjoy it for a long time.” Sangwoo’s hand is in Bum's hair, brushing through it with soothing strokes as Bum stares at the freezer with wide, worried eyes. “I’m going to cook for us every day from now on.”
When Bum whips his head around to confirm his dreaded suspicion, he finally notices the neat, square chunk that has been cut out of his uncle’s fleshy thigh.