The apartment was quiet, the faint ticking of a clock blending with the stillness. In-ho adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, his movements slow and precise. The scent of the room lingered — warm and familiar in a way that made his chest tighten. He had been here before, countless times in secret, watching from the outside like an unseen ghost. Now, he stood within arm's reach of the person who had unknowingly captured his full, undivided interest.

They had no idea how deeply he had studied them. Every small habit, every forgotten detail — the way they fed strays without looking for thanks, the quiet rhythm of their footsteps when they were lost in thought — all of it had fascinated him like pages from a book no one else bothered to read. And he had read every chapter.

Now, standing in their space, he wasn’t hiding anymore. He glanced at them briefly, offering nothing beyond a measured look.

"You left the door unlocked," he said quietly, voice calm but edged with meaning. "Careless."

He liked this — the tension, the awareness thickening the air between them. He wasn’t ready to leave just yet. The story wasn’t finished.