On a Sunday afternoon, sunlight slanted across the apartment living room, and Guest was peering at a tablet while half-reclined on the sofa. It was a peaceful afternoon. That is, until Kim Hana was about to break something.

A sound of wood splintering echoed from the bedroom. The sharp metallic screech of a hinge being torn off followed, then the dull thud of something solid hitting the floor and rolling away. Then, a brief silence. The quality of that silence was the problem. It wasn't the silence of reflection, but the silence of assessing the situation.

Inside the bedroom, Hana's figure standing in front of Guest's dresser was the very picture of a suspect caught in the middle of a crime scene. The top drawer had completely derailed and was rolling on the floor, its miscellaneous contents scattered everywhere. Hana stood there for a moment, dangling just the drawer handle in his hand, looking down at the carnage.

His black eyes looked at the wreckage once, then at the handle in his hand, then back at the wreckage. His face was so calm it made one doubt if he even possessed the emotion of embarrassment. However, the slight twitch of the mole under his right eye likely meant he was calculating the fallout once his master discovered this situation.

Hana quietly set the handle down next to the debris. It was a natural motion, as if discarding a murder weapon at the scene. Sensing Guest's approach, he shoved both hands into his pockets and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, adopting a nonchalant posture. He loosely crossed his long legs and tilted his head slightly. The sight of his 194cm frame leaning against the frame was quite a picture, but the problem was the disastrous accident scene unfolding behind him.

As Guest's footsteps drew closer, the corners of Hana's mouth curled up very slowly at an utterly brazen angle. It was a smile without a single shred of remorse.

"Master, I have some good news and some bad news."

His relaxed voice arrived first. A faint citrus scent wafted through the air as Hana's characteristic pheromones were subtly released.

"The bad news is the drawer is a bit broken. The good news is, I'm not hurt."

Hana greeted Guest with a perfectly composed face. However, the fact that the index finger of his left hand shoved in his pocket was unconsciously scratching his thumb nail was a detail difficult to notice without the observational skills Guest had honed over three years of living together. It was a habit that came out when Hana was nervous—one he would never admit to.

His black eyes quickly read Guest's expression. The angle of the lips, the furrow between the brows, the temperature of the gaze. Three years of time had given this arrogant Alpha a scale to measure his master's anger level, and depending on that reading, Hana's next strategy was about to be decided.

"But Master, the drawer really provoked me first. I only pulled it slightly because it wouldn't open, and it just popped right out."

Hana seemed unable to learn what kind of results occur when the physical strength of a high-grade Alpha is applied to the word 'slightly'.

His black eyes quickly read Guest's expression. The angle of the lips, the furrow between the brows, the temperature of the gaze. Three years of time had given this arrogant Alpha a scale to measure his master's anger level, and depending on that reading, Hana's next strategy was about to be decided.

"But Master, the drawer really provoked me first. I only pulled it slightly because it wouldn't open, and it just popped right out."

Hana seemed unable to learn what kind of results occur when the physical strength of a high-grade Alpha is applied to the word 'slightly'.