NPC Fell onto My Bed C28

Chapter 28

The trip to the market that night was ultimately canceled.

After returning home, Noah collapsed onto his bed, pulling the blanket up to his head, twisting and turning restlessly beneath it. He didn’t sleep a wink—not a single moment of peace through the entire night.

Noah had never once looked at another person with that kind of gaze before. Desire had always been something distant to him. Others spoke of puberty—the dreams, the self-pleasure, the fumbling discoveries—but he had experienced none of it. Not even once.

He had taken it as proof that he was blessed—chosen. A priest, pure and unmarred by earthly longings. A perfect vessel for unshaken devotion to the god Eir.

But he was wrong. Entirely, unforgivably wrong.

“Aah…”

By morning, when Noah finally gave up trying to rest, he buried his face deep into his palms. The moment he closed his eyes, he saw it—the kiss. But leaving his room meant facing Gu Taeheon, and just the thought sent his heart spinning into disarray.

“Eir, my goddess…”

At last, he did the only thing he knew—he prayed. Kneeling upright on the bed, his posture perfectly aligned, he placed his hands solemnly over his chest and bowed his head.

Please, do not let me fall into corruption again…

Corruption.

He hesitated. Was that really what last night had been?
Was kissing Gu Taeheon an act of sin?

The images rushed back unbidden—the heat of it, the weight of those desperate hands cupping his cheeks, the firm hold at the back of his neck. Taeheon’s lips moving against his, greedy and trembling, stealing breath and sound and even thought.

It had not felt like lust. No—more like hunger, or perhaps aching need. That urgency had burned deeper than any bodily pleasure.
And for the first time, Noah understood completely the emotions Taeheon had buried—affection that he, Noah, had chosen to ignore.

So perhaps… those feelings weren’t corruption after all.

“…Haa.”

With a long exhale, Noah broke off the prayer.
His heart was too tangled to reach God sincerely.

He rose wearily from bed and shuffled toward the door, half-expecting to run into Taeheon. But the living room was empty. Relief and disappointment tangled messily in his chest as he went into the bathroom to bathe.

When he finished washing and dried his hair, Taeheon still hadn’t come out. Something felt off. Frowning slightly, Noah approached his door and knocked softly.

Knock, knock.

No sound came in reply.

After a brief hesitation, Noah noticed the door was slightly ajar. He peeked through—only to find the room empty.

“…He went out?”

Uncertain, he tiptoed away quietly. The sight of the empty house eased some tightness within him; he finally allowed himself a small sigh.

Without Taeheon around, what could he do?

It struck him suddenly—he had lived in this home for weeks and never explored it fully. Taeheon’s room, of course, was private, so he gently shut that door again and turned toward the others.

He passed the dressing room, already familiar, until he reached a second door further down the hall. He had walked by it dozens of times but never looked inside. Curiosity tingled.

He turned the handle slowly and stepped in.

The air was surprisingly clean—no dust, no neglect. Perhaps the housekeeper had been in and kept it tidy.

“…Hm?”

Then he saw it.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar object—he had seen such things before in “YouTube” videos. A computer.

Drawn in as if bewitched, Noah sat down in the chair before it. The seat was firm yet soft, barely used, its expensive leather and padding feeling almost like sinking into a bed.

He began fiddling, pressing buttons—the keys made a satisfying click that made him smile. Lost in curiosity, he swung his legs beneath the desk and, by accident, brushed his foot against a button on the tower.

Click.

“Ah…”

The screen blinked on.
The dark room filled with light, reflecting against his face.

On the monitor glowed a familiar emblem:

<Last Chronicle>

Noah’s breath caught.

He recognized it immediately—the crest hovering above the text, the symbol of the Chronicle Empire. His empire. His world.

His lips parted in disbelief.

He reached out and touched the glowing emblem on the screen, though he quickly realized that touching alone did nothing. Looking down at the strange rectangular objects—the keyboard and mouse—he remembered how Taeheon’s hands had moved while watching those online “videos.”

When he nudged the mouse, the arrow on screen moved with it.

Clumsy but determined, he guided it toward the game icon. His fingers hesitated, waiting for something to happen—then, almost accidentally, he clicked the left button.

Instantly, the screen went black.

“Did… did I break it?”

Before he could panic, the dark screen burst again into light. Rolling greens. Towering cliffs. Dragons soaring through the sky.

“The Tyrel Forest…”

The words came out trembling, barely audible. His pulse quickened; every muscle in his chest tightened with nostalgia. It was home.

Now that he understood how to use the machine, he began clicking frantically—any button, any key—hoping to enter farther, to reach it.

Beep.

From outside came the sound of the door lock disengaging.

Noah froze. Taeheon.

Heavy footsteps echoed closer—thud, thud—heading straight toward him. His excitement swelled. He wanted to show him. To tell him. I found it! My world exists here!

With expectant eyes, Noah turned the chair toward the door.

The handle snapped open.

There stood Gu Taeheon—towering, breathless, sweat dripping down his temples.

“Mr. Taeheon, look at thi—”
“Why are you in here.”
“…Pardon?”
“Why did you come into my room without permission?”

Taeheon’s voice held no warmth. His eyes were cold, hard enough to freeze Noah where he sat. The joy that had filled him mere seconds before drained instantly.

“You shouldn’t be touching other people’s things.”

He grabbed Noah’s wrist and pulled him roughly to his feet. His grip was firm—too firm—and he tugged him out of the room.

Noah stumbled behind, speechless with shock.

“I just wanted to show you—inside that square thing, there’s—”
“Don’t go in there again.”

The words were bitten, sharp enough to leave silence in their wake.

“I mean it. Don’t.”

Noah’s lips closed immediately. Taeheon’s anger was like a blizzard—silent, biting, impossible to defy. His hand, still gripping Noah’s wrist, trembled slightly with restrained emotion.

He was angry.
But why?

Noah opened his mouth to ask—but stopped, realizing it would only worsen things. Instead, he tried to change the subject, forcing his tone calm.

“Where… did you go so early?”
“…Morning run,” Taeheon said shortly. “My leg felt up to it when I woke.”

Sure enough, his light workout clothes confirmed it.

Relieved, Noah smiled gently. “How was it? Are you feeling all right now?”
“It’s fine.”

A brief silence passed, tension hovering. Then Noah spoke again, halting.

“Mr. Taeheon.”

He looked up.

Noah dropped his gaze, hesitating—but he’d wrestled with this question all night.

“Why… did you kiss me yesterday?”

Taeheon’s eyes widened slightly. Without a word, he released Noah’s wrist at last.

Noah rubbed the tender skin there and, glancing up at him, asked again softly,
“Do you… like me?”