Since it was my first visit, the workshop session was more of an orientation. Lee Heena explained how future lessons would proceed and told me I could come by anytime I felt like it. When I gave her an apologetic look, she curled her thumb and forefinger into a circle and winked.

“It’s fine. I got paid plenty.”

Kwon Yido really did return before dinner. After coming back from the workshop, I’d been holed up in my room, and the moment a staff member told me he was home, I hurried to the entrance. Just as he stepped inside, he stopped briefly when he saw me there to greet him.

“Welcome back.”

“...”

His dark gaze clung to my face. Tilting my head at him, wondering why, I saw him cover his mouth slightly and narrow his eyes—then curve his lips into the faintest smile.

“I should have come home early sooner.”

Handing his bag to the staff, Yido stepped toward me. The steady drift of his pheromones loosened something tight inside me.

“I didn’t expect to be welcomed this warmly.”

He leaned in toward me.

“...”

For a moment, I thought he meant to kiss me. But instead of my lips, his face angled toward my neck. Like a dog greeting its owner, he sniffed lightly, then asked in a curious tone,

“Are you wearing perfume?”

“Ah...”

I hunched my shoulders in mild embarrassment. So that was it—he’d caught some scent on me that wasn’t mine.

“No. It’s probably from the fragrance materials.”

“Fragrance materials?”

“Yes, Ms. Heena gave me homework.”

I held out my right hand to him, figuring the scent would be stronger there than on my neck. Without hesitation, he lowered his head to smell my fingertips, just as he had my nape.

“I must have picked up the smell after playing with the fragrance materials all day.”

'I’ll give you a little homework.'

When the lesson had ended, Heena had handed me a small brown bottle, about the length of a finger. Each held a different fragrance material, with a label on the surface bearing its name. There were sixteen in total, and she’d told me to smell each one and write down my impressions.

'It doesn’t have to be writing—music, a drawing, even a gesture is fine. But you should try to describe it so someone who’s never smelled it could still imagine it.'

It had seemed simple enough, but once I started smelling them, I found plenty of moments of confusion. I could tell the differences—but explaining them in a way someone else could grasp was another matter.

“Ah, fragrance materials...”

Yido gave a meaningless murmur and lowered his gaze. Then, with a blank expression, he raised one eyebrow.

“Your instructor’s name is Lee Heena?”

“...”

Déjà vu. Hadn’t he said himself there was a good perfumer? Maybe he saw my disbelief, because his voice came back even and unbothered.

“I didn’t know her name.”

The way he acted as if it were nothing was shameless. I gave a short laugh, and he mirrored my smile before walking ahead and loosening his tie.

“I’ll wash up and come down. Wait for me.”

Dinner with him, for the first time in a while, was more pleasant than I’d expected. We didn’t exchange that many words, but just having someone across from me at the table lightened my mood. He listened quietly to my account of the workshop and asked if I’d show him my homework notebook when I was done.

So, as soon as I finished eating, I brought the notebook to his room. The moment I stepped inside, the air was thick with the distinctive pheromones of a dominant alpha. The heavy, hazy sensation made me pause in the doorway for a moment.

“Is this the notebook you got from the workshop?”

He flipped through each page, reading my notes carefully. Things like, A feeling of walking through a rose-filled garden. The scent of sun-dried laundry on a fine day. Yet his serious expression made me feel like a subordinate reporting to a superior.

His lowered gaze followed my handwriting line by line. One leg was crossed, his posture relaxed. Unlike at work, his neatly trimmed bangs had slipped slightly forward, brushing his smooth forehead.

“Nicely written.”

Just that one phrase—and my mood threatened to lift. It was all the more so because it came out like an unconscious aside. After reading through the sixteenth bottle, he looked up with a satisfied expression.

“Are you going to the workshop tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’m planning to go every weekday.”

Maybe it was a good thing to have something to do. We’d decided I’d spend about a week learning the basics—distinguishing scents, blending them step by step to create a perfume I wanted. Heena had said that in reality the process was more complex, but she’d keep it interest-driven for now.

“Did you do your homework in your room?”

“Yes, at the table...”

“You’ll need a study room, then.”

He nodded as if reaching a conclusion on his own. I had no idea how long I’d even be going to the workshop, so a whole room seemed unnecessary. I was about to refuse when he changed the subject.

“This one seems close to your pheromones.”

He was pointing to the third fragrance I’d written about, labeled White jasmine, which I’d described with various metaphors. Turning another page, he indicated one labeled Warm Cotton.

“This one too.”

“...”

It was nothing special, yet it left me oddly flustered. Maybe it was his faint smile—or maybe the way his voice felt almost dreamlike.

“The one next to it is like yours,” I said, pointing to Sandalwood.

He gave a short laugh. In truth, I’d just picked the closest match; his pheromones were far too distinctive to be compared. Even now, they were intoxicating enough to make my head swim.

We kept talking over the list of fragrances I’d noted down—how the greenhouse smelled like this one, how the new car smelled like that one, how mixing these two would make a ridiculous perfume.

It felt almost like playing house. Like high schoolers gossiping all day about nothing, we spent the time with light, meaningless chatter. And because it had been so long since we’d had an easy conversation, even idle talk felt welcome.

“Isn’t there a scent that helps with insomnia?”

“Well, there is...”

Lavender was supposed to be calming, wasn’t it? I’d already tried every kind of scented candle for my insomnia. None had worked—except for one thing.

“The best one is your pheromones.”

I hadn’t said it to get him to give me any. It was just an offhand thought. I’ll sleep well thanks to you today—that was all I’d meant.

“I’ll sleep soundly tonight, thanks ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) to you.”

He went quiet immediately, his gaze shifting over me with a mix of feelings. Then, after blinking once, he spoke evenly.

“You can come into my room anytime, even if I’m not here.”

Wasn’t that contradictory? He’d told me not to enter the second-floor study, yet his bedroom was open territory.

“If you can’t sleep, you can even sleep in my bed.”

It was a generous offer, but I couldn’t agree to it outright. How ridiculous would it be for him to come home from work and find me sprawled out in his bed? And it wasn’t as if I could just take over his space.

“Then where would you sleep?”

I asked it as a joke, but his smile shifted subtly. He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if to say, What kind of question is that?

“You’re acting like it’s new. The bed’s plenty big... What, are we going to start being shy now?”

“...”

True enough—after everything we’d already done naked, what was the big deal about sharing a bed? Still, sleeping side by side wasn’t quite the same as sex. I couldn’t recall ever lying together like lovers.

“...Thank you for the offer.”

It was awkward to refuse outright, but equally hard to accept. My polite smile seemed to tell him everything.

“You’re never going to sleep in my room, are you?”

At this point, I was used to his quick readings.

“It’s getting late. You’ve been out; you must be tired. Get some rest.”

He glanced at the wall clock and stood first. I was starting to feel drowsy myself, so I quietly gathered my notebook. But just as I was about to leave, he said,

“Sleep in my bed.”

“...Excuse me?”

He came over without missing a beat and took the notebook from me, setting it back on the table before gesturing at the bed.

“The first time’s the hardest. After a few times, you’ll get used to it.”

“...”

My empty hand twitched slightly. While I hesitated, unable to find an answer, his voice took on a coaxing warmth.

“You’ll need to be well rested for the workshop tomorrow.”

“...”

“You said my pheromones are best—are you really going to waste such a good chance?”

It would be a lie to say I wasn’t tempted. If it were just me sneaking into his empty room, that was one thing. But with him inviting me, there was nothing to hesitate over—except for the flicker of embarrassment that rose in me.

“...Are we lying down together?”

The thought of turning off the lights and getting into bed together felt oddly awkward. We weren’t newlyweds, or even newly dating. I hadn’t realized sharing a blanket could feel so self-conscious.

“After everything we’ve done, that’s what you’re shy about?”

Apparently, he’d caught my thought. His expression turned quizzical before he covered his mouth and let out a quiet, deflating sound. The cool line of his eyes softened in a way I could never quite get used to.

“Sorry if I got your hopes up, but I’ve got work to do tonight.”

“...”

Was it disappointment? My briefly swelling anticipation deflated. There was relief, too, but also an inexplicable sense of loss—and he caught it exactly.

“...Mr. Jung Sejin.”

Smiling faintly, he reached for me, his fingers brushing over my cheek, tracing to my ear and down my neck.

“Why are you being so cute today?”

“What...”

Heat prickled at my nape. I tried to turn away, but he held the back of my head and brushed his lips lightly against mine. The quick press parted, then returned a little deeper.

“...”

I closed my eyes. His teeth caught my lower lip gently, his tongue teasing at the seam. When I shivered, he gave a soft laugh and slid his tongue inside.

It was dizzying enough to weaken my knees. If he hadn’t steadied my waist, I might have swayed. Holding me tightly, he kissed me with a deep, deliberate hunger, as if making up for lost time.

By the time I came to my senses, my arms were looped around his neck. Tilting his head, he bit my tongue playfully, then rubbed against it as if soothing the spot.

Even after spending the day surrounded by fragrances, I thought his pheromones were the finest scent of all. The quiet exhale carried both the weight and sweetness unique to him.

“...Mmh.”

A soft sound escaped me without thinking. It felt like he was kneading every nerve to life. It was only a kiss, yet my heart pounded as if we’d been tangled up for hours.

'Ah, my heat cycle must be coming soon.'

That thought surfaced just as he pulled away. The wet parting of our lips was followed by a couple of lingering brushes, as if reluctant to stop. Putting a little more space between us, he swept my hair back with a low voice.

“Go to sleep. I’ll just finish up some work.”

This time, I had no reason to refuse. I nodded, and he released me with a satisfied look. The alpha pheromones soaking into me left a warm, settled feeling deep in my gut.

***

Contrary to my worry about being uncomfortable, I fell asleep the moment I lay down in his bed. Surrounded by soft bedding and a rich wood scent, it felt like lying in a forest during an autumn rain. For something so dry, his pheromones carried a surprisingly dense fragrance.

And I didn’t dream—not even the faintest nightmare. The monsters that had been plaguing me alongside my insomnia were gone without a trace. Scenes that resurfaced even after a handful of sleeping pills were wiped clean by one breath of his pheromones.

If I could, I’d sleep like this every day. The quality of sleep was the quality of life itself, and just one good night left me in a completely different state. It was enough to make me think I could shamelessly come to his room every night.

How long had it been since I’d slept this soundly? When I woke, someone was stroking my hair. Fingers brushed through the strands, pushing aside the ones that had fallen forward.

“...”

Instinctively, I nuzzled into the hand. Rolling onto my side, I caught the retreating hand and pulled it back. Resting my forehead against it, I heard a quiet laugh.

“Clingy, aren’t you...”

His voice was low, but it wrapped around my ear with clarity. The weight of it was addictive.

I slowly opened my eyes. The room was dim with the first light of dawn filtering in. Blinking up at him, I felt his long fingers skim my forehead.

“Did I wake you?”

With a delicate touch, Yido traced my features—forehead, brows, half-lidded eyes, down my cheek to my jaw.

“Sleep a bit more until breakfast.”

“...”

Was he leaving already? Through the haze of sleep, I noticed he was dressed in a suit—tie undone, shirt unbuttoned at the top.

“...You didn’t sleep?”

He didn’t look like someone who’d just woken up. His complexion was the same as ever, but my instincts told me he’d gotten me into bed and stayed up the whole night preparing for work.

“Well... not on purpose.”

His answer was casual. I wondered if I’d made him uncomfortable, but the softness in his gaze said otherwise. As if handling something precious, he stroked each feature before lowering his eyes.

“Just had something on my mind.”

What could he have been thinking about all night? His usually impenetrable face looked uncharacteristically pensive today. Maybe it was the neat line of his lashes, or the quiet set of his lips.

In that precise, measured voice of his, Yido said,

“I had something to watch that was worth losing sleep for.”