Hyun-woo didn't say anything.
Not when I put my phone face down.
Not when I walked past him into the room.
The silence followed me.
"Who is Min-jae?" he asked later, casually, like he was asking about dinner.
I paused. "A friend."
His mouth curved into a small smile. "New?"
"Yes."
"That explains it."
"Explains what?"
"The look on your face."
I turned to him. "What look?"
"The one you don't have with me."
That shouldn't have hurt. It did.
"He asked for my number," I said. "That's all."
Hyun-woo nodded slowly. "Did you give it?"
"Yes."
He exhaled through his nose. "You didn't hesitate."
I crossed my arms. "Why are you interrogating me?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
He stepped closer. Too close. I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled like he was holding something back.
"You didn't tell him about us," he said.
"There is no us."
The words sat between us.
"That's not how it feels," he replied.
"That's because you're used to me being here."
"And you're used to staying."
I looked away first.
Later that night, we lay on opposite sides of the bed again. The distance felt deliberate now, like a decision instead of an accident.
My phone buzzed softly.
Min-jae: Did I disturb you?
I typed a reply, then deleted it.
From the other side of the bed, Hyun-woo shifted.
"You're awake," he said.
"Yes."
"You didn't answer him," he added.
I turned my head. "How do you know?"
"I know you," he said quietly. "Better than he ever will."
I stared at the ceiling.
That wasn't a promise.
It sounded like a warning.