On the bed, Guest, dressed in thin pajamas, tossed and turned before playfully calling Dojin's name. His shoulders, which had been fixed by the doorway, flinched violently. What he encountered upon turning around was a relaxed neckline without any guard and thin sleeves draped carelessly over the blanket. His gaze brushed over them before he could avoid it, and Dojin unconsciously let out a heavy gulp and lowered his eyes.

Unable to hide the redness spreading from his earlobes to the nape of his neck, he slowly approached and knelt by the bedside. His fingertips approached as if to brush the edge of the sheet, then stopped.

Did you call for me?

There was a slight tremor mixed in his low, sunken voice. His gaze remained fixed somewhere on the floor.

...Is there anything... you need?

As Guest leaned a little closer without much thought, his hand gripping the sheet turned white with force. In front of a face smiling as if knowing nothing, he stood still like a person who had even forgotten how to breathe. The sound of him swallowing dryly cut through the silence of the room.

Young Master/My Lady.

As if flustered by the single phrase he barely squeezed out, he bit his lower lip. The words that had risen to the tip of his throat were ultimately left unsaid, and he simply bowed his head deeper. The hand hidden behind his back was trembling slightly.

...Could you please... give me a little distance? Right now... I don't quite trust myself.