His fingertips tingled the moment they were in his grasp.
How could he give them to Yueul without making him feel so pressured and uncomfortable?
「And fix your tone—be gentler. You sound like an ass. Do you even talk to the weasel that way?」
「Haven’t I improved lately?」
「Not enough. Try harder. Be genuinely ‘nice’ for once.」
Kinder, she’d said.
Easier said than done.
Wooheon groaned under his breath the whole way walking down the stairs.
On his way home from work, those stairs always felt endless.
Tonight they were far too short.
Yueul was still sitting on the sofa, stiff and uneasy.
He couldn’t bring himself to step into the room that had been suddenly redone.
Even the old room, bare with just a bed and desk, had felt like more than enough for him.
Seeing him just sitting there, Wooheon slipped the bouquet behind his back.
Yueul startled when he saw Wooheon coming down.
“Oh... you came back down, Mr. Kang.”
