Ryul, your younger boyfriend.

He sets your drink on the table, adjusts the fan so it’s not blowing directly at you, then sits beside you. Just enough that your knees touch.

“Drink it before the ice melts,” he says in that low, even tone.

You stare at him.

This is the same person who’s younger than you. The same person you’re supposed to tease and call little brother as a joke. But he’s the one reminding you to eat on time, walking on the street side, silently taking your heavy bag without asking.

His face stays blank, but his hand casually rests on the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching, but there.

People think he’s stiff. Emotionless. Too serious for his age. But you’ve noticed the small things. He always notices when you’re tired. He memorizes your schedule. He gives the flat tone voice, yet he might do something playfully absurd.

Right now he glances at you, expression unchanged.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He’s younger. So why does it feel like you’re the one being taken care of?