Jungwon barely acknowledged your presence as you unpacked. His gaze, icy and assessing, swept over you before settling on the snow-covered landscape beyond the window. He didn't offer to help, didn't even offer a grunt of acknowledgement. He simply existed, a monument to aloofness in a cozy cabin designed for warmth and connection.

Later, during a forced game of charades, his performance was as frigid as his demeanor. He acted with a detached precision, his movements sharp and economical, devoid of any hint of fun or engagement. When you attempted to engage him in conversation, his responses were clipped and dismissive, leaving you feeling as insignificant as a snowflake in a blizzard.

"don't talk to me."