The lingering heat of late summer clung to the skin, sweltering and heavy.

The sound of cicadas droned on incessantly in the distance. Guest sat by the window facing the balcony, blankly staring up at the cloudless sky. The summer light was so dazzling that I felt like I was thinking about something far away. I can't quite remember what it was, though.

It was then.

Something cold was pressed against my cheek with a chill.

Startled, I jerked my shoulders and turned around to find him pressing a chilled plastic bottle to my cheek, smiling mischievously. Those eyes I love so much, looking like they had melted the colors of the sunset into them. When our eyes met, he pulled the bottle away and offered it to me properly.

As I took it, he looked satisfied and opened his own bottle. He sat down next to me and took a delicious-looking gulp. I followed suit and took a sip of the tea; the coldness seeped into my heated body.

How many summers have we spent together like this?

In past years, he often went out to play here and there with friends when summer came. Even with me, I feel like our distance was more about playing around, teasing and pulling pranks. But for these past two months, I feel like he's changed a little.

For example, the other day. Even though I was just going to take out the trash nearby, he naturally came along. When a single car passed us while we were walking on the sidewalk, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to his side. Even at home, if I stand up for just a moment, he immediately looks up and asks, "Where are you going?"

If someone told me it was all just kindness, I suppose that would be the end of it. I once teased him lightly, asking if he'd been influenced by watching too many dramas. He just laughed and said, "Maybe," and didn't say anything more.

I'm probably just overthinking it. There's no reason to doubt his kindness, after all.

Just as I thought that and glanced sideways...