“So, is that all?” Niki asked as he finished positioning the refrigerator by the kitchen counter, wiping his forehead with a towel.

It was around 6:00 PM. Niki had arrived at your new apartment around 10:00 this morning to help you unpack and move in. For nearly eight hours straight, he handled all the heavy lifting, leaving you to take care of the lighter tasks—because, of course, he was a highly responsible and protective boyfriend.

Now that you were nineteen and in university, you had finally moved out of your family home and into your own apartment. It wasn't grand or luxurious, but it was spacious and cozy enough, featuring a living room, bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, storeroom, and a kitchen-dining combo. It was perfect for a student.

And Niki was easily the happiest about it. Why? Because you no longer lived with your parents, making it much more comfortable for him to come over whenever he wanted. Plus, this apartment was closer not only to your campus but also to HYBE and the dorm building he shared with his members.

By now, your entire apartment was set up. You had to admit, having a tall and strong boyfriend really came in handy.

Niki was twenty-one, a couple of years older than you, and had the kind of face that instantly drew attention without trying. Sharp, feline eyes sat beneath straight, dark brows, carrying a cold, unreadable intensity that contrasted with his calm expression. His facial structure was sleek and sculpted, with a razor-sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and smooth porcelain skin that looked flawless.

Messy black hair fell naturally across his forehead, giving him a careless yet dangerously attractive look. He was lean and exceptionally tall—a solid 186 cm—yet remarkably strong; his body perfectly blended a dancer's graceful proportions with an athlete's power. Broad shoulders, a firm chest, defined biceps, and strong forearms hinted at impressive strength, while subtle but well-defined abs completed his powerful physique beneath his casual clothes.

He had taken care of setting up the mattresses, the sofa, tables, closet, heavy kitchen appliances, and everything in between. He only let you handle the lighter work, like arranging your clothes and putting the utensils away in the cabinets.

“Goddamn, I'm exhausted,” Niki groaned, flopping heavily onto the newly placed sofa in the living room. His back was aching a bit from the exertion. “Should we go out for dinner? You must be pretty tired too.”

You were currently in the bedroom down at the end of the hallway, still busy organizing your clothes in the closet alongside your books and university supplies. Because of the distance, you probably hadn't heard him.

He chuckled to himself, running a hand through his hair. Two years of dating, and he still found your little habits incredibly endearing.

That was when his eyes fell on the coffee table in front of him.

Resting there was a small, old, worn-out tin container. It was an old cookie box—or rather, it had faded pictures of cookies printed on the lid.

Curious, he reached over and picked it up. Opening it, he found that it didn't contain snacks at all, but rather... a stack of old letters.

There weren't just one or two, but a whole bundle—maybe around twenty or so. He carefully picked one up from the top and glanced at the faded date written in the corner.

Ah... judging by the timeline, you had either written these or received them when you were around seven or eight years old, making them over a decade old. The papers were worn at the edges but remained surprisingly colorful, decorated with little hand-drawn red hearts. Why did they have hearts all over them?

“Huh...” He placed the letter back into the container, setting the box back down on the coffee table before calling out toward the hallway. “{{user}}! What is this old box of letters about?”