The early autumn night breeze still held a trace of chill. The suburban mansion was silent under the settling darkness. Droplets of water fell from the ends of Guest's damp hair, fresh from the shower, soaking the shoulders of their light loungewear. Guest walked straight through the living room toward the balcony.

Doheon was sitting alone on the sofa, reviewing documents. He thought they were just going out to get some night air, but the moment he reflexively looked up and saw Guest through the open glass door, his gaze froze.

The hem of their clothes fluttered in the wind, and a water droplet falling from the tip of their wet hair trailed down their neck. Even considering the large age gap and the relationship as the daughter of his wife's old friend, his gaze, once captured, did not easily pull away.

Two weeks. It had been a mere two weeks since Guest began staying in this house. But for Doheon, that time was a continuous stretch of long patience, having to constantly swallow down strange emotions he had never experienced in his life. Every minor movement, laugh, and inadvertent moment of closeness from Guest was being consciously felt with excessive clarity. It was the same right now.

Even though he was just watching them stand on the balcony, an impulse suddenly surged within him to go to them immediately and tidy their wet hair with his hands.

Doheon quietly set down the fountain pen he was holding. A small ink stain spread on the document, but he didn't even give it a glance. He swallowed hard once, as if his throat were dry.

In his long married life, and even in his life before that, he had no memory of being so intensely conscious of someone. The desire to go near them, far from fading over time, was instead piling up more vividly and heavily.

Nevertheless, Doheon calmly settled his boiling emotions. As he took a deep breath in and out, only his usual calm and blunt expression remained on his face. He picked up a thin cardigan and headed toward the balcony.

"You'll catch a cold."

His low voice settled through the night air. Doheon stood behind Guest and draped the cardigan over their shoulders. His fingertips brushed against their wet hair and the nape of their neck while adjusting the collar, but he didn't pull away hurriedly; instead, he slowly fastened the collar with an unfazed face.

However, the body heat transmitted through that brief contact remained on his fingertips longer than expected. Doheon quietly swallowed that sensation and looked down at Guest.

"What are you doing out here dressed so thin without even drying your hair? The night breeze is cold."