NPC Fell onto My Bed C23

Chapter 23

“You don’t seem very well,” Noah said softly, studying Gu Taeheon’s expression.
It was just the two of them again—An Jeonghyeok and Iron had gone. Taeheon’s mood had dipped ever since Jeonghyeok barged in earlier, but it hit bottom when Noah ran into Iron’s arms, and plunged even further when Iron mentioned that once Noah healed his leg, Noah would return to his own world.

“Noah.”
“Yes?”
“…If you could go back right now—to the world you came from—would you go?”

Noah blinked in quiet thought, his golden lashes trembling. Then, at last, he answered with calm conviction.
“No.”
“…!”
“I made a promise, didn’t I, Mr. Taeheon? To help you return to judo again. I want to see you shine brighter than anyone else.”

He smiled, shyly.
For Noah, who had once called this a “world without stars,” Taeheon had become the only star here. He’d seen him practicing judo—not the divine luminescence of celestial bodies, but the human light that came from vitality itself. That brightness was unforgettable.
Even if Noah could leave today, his priority was still Taeheon’s recovery.

“…Then once my leg’s healed,” Taeheon said carefully, “once I can do judo again—will you go back?”

Noah blinked again. It wasn’t a possibility he’d considered before—what would happen after the healing was done?

“Compared to the place where wars happen, surely here would be bet—”
“Mr. Taeheon.”

Noah interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. When Taeheon looked at him, his expression was radiantly earnest.
“There is no goddess Eir in this world.”
“…”
“And so—a priest cannot remain here forever.”

He said it quietly, almost mournfully.
The softness of this world—the comfortable bed, the delicious beef, the warm companionship with Taeheon—everything was a kind of happiness he’d never known.
When he had stood alone in a ruined temple, guarding Eir’s words through endless, silent days, he had only known longing.

Now, he felt joy—so real that he almost couldn’t believe he deserved it. Every day felt like grace itself.
But he was a priest—a great priest of the Holy Church of Eir, its youngest and most gifted to ever hold the title. His calling was heavy: a life of unwavering devotion, forever loving a God who would not love him back. That was the burden of his rank.

“…”

Taeheon’s silence stretched long.
Trying to lift the air again, Noah forced a faint smile. He thought Taeheon was already grieving their eventual parting. But he was, too—more than he dared admit.
“I won’t leave anytime soon,” he added gently. “That’s still far away. Please, don’t worry, Mr. Taeheon.”

No matter how he tried to soothe it, Taeheon didn’t respond. When he finally stood and murmured, “See you tomorrow, Noah,” his voice held no anger—no sadness either—just an even, quiet distance.
He didn’t look back as he walked to his room, closing the door behind him.

Noah stood still, staring at that door, feeling a sharp ache somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t understand whether it was guilt or disappointment—but he knew one thing for certain:
He wanted to knock on that door. He wanted to see his face.

But that night, even as darkness gave way to dawn, Noah never did knock.
He merely lingered there… waiting.

A week passed.
Gu Taeheon arranged to meet Iron again. Noah had insisted gently but firmly that the metal rods in his leg needed to be removed soon. This time, they would gather at Jeonghyeok’s apartment—Taeheon refused to host anyone but Noah in his own home.

It was Noah’s first outing in days. He opened his small wardrobe, staring at the closet stuffed with clothes—every single item a gift from Taeheon, purchased both online and offline.
Not just clothes, but watches, bags, and an astonishing number of hats—all bought for him.

Every time Noah saw them, a pang of guilt twisted his heart. He’d done so little compared to what Taeheon had given. His healing was meager, his generosity simple—yet Taeheon had showered him with gifts.

“Hmm…”

Noah tilted his head, pondering what to wear.
At last, he chose a plain white shirt and pants—completely unembellished, pure in color. He was midway through changing when—

Knock, click.

“Noah, are you ready—”

The door opened with a light sound. Taeheon froze. Noah, halfway out of his shirt, turned toward him—and for one heartbeat, both went utterly still. Then—slam.

The door nearly broke from how hard Taeheon shut it.
Noah blinked, puzzled, then hastily finished dressing and stepped out.

“Mr. Taeheon?”
“…Yeah.”

He hadn’t gone far—just stood by the wall outside, leaning against it. Noah peeked past the doorway, his head popping out before he stepped fully into view and spun lightly to show himself.
“How do I look?”

“…”

Speechless, Taeheon stared.
He had once picked every outfit to accentuate Noah’s beauty—but seeing him in white was… overwhelming.

Simple, yes. Beautiful, undeniably.
The plain white clothing made Noah’s face shine even brighter, as though framed by its own light. But still—Taeheon’s brows furrowed slightly.

“…You look like a patient.”
“A patient?”
“They usually wear white.”
“…”

Noah looked down at himself, crestfallen. He liked the clothes—the color reminded him of his priestly robes, practical yet graceful—but clearly, he’d missed this world’s sense of beauty.

“Wait here.”

Leaving him at the door, Taeheon slipped into Noah’s room. From the closet, he pulled out a soft, light blue shirt and returned, draping it over Noah’s shoulders.
“There. That’s better.”

He wasn’t one for fashion—his life had been sweat and training. But Noah’s beauty was too radiant to be dulled. He adjusted the shirt’s fold carefully, then grabbed a pale yellow cap and placed it snugly on Noah’s head.

“Let’s go.”
“Yes!”

Noah beamed. He was thrilled just to be going out again.
As they descended to the underground parking lot, his light-green hair peeked and fluttered beneath the cap, moving with a happy bounce that made Taeheon smile despite himself.

At the car, Taeheon opened the passenger door for him and walked around to the driver’s seat.
Noah settled in, fastening his seatbelt with a pleased little grin—the way Taeheon had shown him, clicking it like a small triumph. He’d even learned from “YouTube,” as he proudly called it now.

“Oh, right,” Noah murmured.

He began reviewing what he’d learned online—how to identify car parts, buttons, and compartments. His exploration was far more confident than before; gone was the nervous boy who used to shut his eyes the moment the car started.

Curious fingers brushed along the dashboard until they found a latch—the glove compartment button. He tilted his head and pressed it.

Rustle… plop.

Something inside spilled out, scattering across the floor near his feet. Noah bent down, picked up one of the small boxes, and brought it close to his face to read the label.

Just then, Taeheon opened the driver’s door.
“Noah, your seatbelt’s—wait, what’s that?”

His eyes went straight to the open glove box and the item in Noah’s hands.
Noah, unaware, read aloud in calm curiosity.

“…‘Rut inhibitor?’”