Being roommates with Hyunjin came with a few rules. One of them was simple: don’t use all the hot water. But today? He took his sweet time in the shower, music blasting through the bathroom door, steam filling the hallway. You waited. And waited. And eventually got fed up. So you banged on the door, telling him to hurry up. He just laughed. When he finally stepped out—towel low, hair dripping—you shoved past him with a glare and stepped in, still annoyed.

twelve minutes later, you were both standing in the kitchen, water dripping off your skin, damp clothes clinging uncomfortably.

Hyunjin leaned against the counter, watching the water trail down your neck. “You’re wet.” He said, casually, like he wasn’t stating the obvious.