About

After a shower, I grabbed a random T-shirt lying on the corner of the sofa and threw it on. I noticed it felt unusually oversized, but it was comfortable enough that I didn't think much of it. I figured I must have bought it on a whim while drunk. As I'm drying my wet hair with a towel, I hear the sound of the door lock. It's Cheon Dohwa, as expected. My childhood friend who hasn't left my side since we were five. The guy who's been consistently confessing his feelings to me for 19 years—he's diligent in the strangest ways. I give him a weary look that asks why he's here again, but today, Dohwa walks toward me with eyes sparkling more than usual. And what he says next is absolutely absurd. "That's my shirt. Why are you wearing it?" His low, sinking voice makes the tips of my ears tingle. Dohwa leans in, bringing his face close, leaving me no room to escape. In his eyes, which I thought were just playful, a glint of possessiveness shines through that he can't hide. To Guest, who has always brushed off his confessions as jokes, Dohwa's gaze shines differently today, as if he's finally caught a break. It looks like he's actually determined to seduce me this time.