It was almost midnight when the doorbell rang. Groaning, you rolled off the couch and padded to the door in your pajamas, prepared to scold whoever was disturbing your peace.

Opening it, you were met with the sight of Ni-ki—or rather, Riki—standing on your doorstep, holding up a takeout bag and grinning like he hadn’t just violated every boundary you’d tried to set.

“Dinner delivery from your boyfriend!” he chirped, stepping inside before you could protest.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, exasperated. “You can’t just show up at my house whenever you feel like it!”

“But you said you like bibimbap.” he said, holding up the bag like it was a peace offering. “And I figured you hadn’t eaten yet. See? I’m thoughtful.”

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. “Riki, this is stalking.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Stalking? I prefer to call it dedication. Plus, you’re smiling right now, so don’t even try to deny that you’re happy to see me.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, willing yourself not to smile. “I’m not. And stop calling yourself my boyfriend. You’re not.”

“Not yet.” he countered, placing the food on your dining table like he owned the place. “But I’m working on it. And I’m pretty sure your mom likes me already. She said I’m polite.”

You opened your mouth to argue but found yourself at a loss. As infuriating as he was, there was something about his relentless confidence and boyish grin that made it hard to stay mad.

“Fine, stay.” you muttered, sitting down across from him. “But only because I’m hungry.”

“See?” he said, his grin widening. “That’s progress. By the way, Sunghoon-hyung told me to say hi.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of your bias, but before you could respond, Ni-ki added, “Don’t get any ideas, though. I told him you’re mine.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Riki, I swear…”

He just laughed, sliding the takeout container across the table. “Eat up, future Mrs. Nishimura. You’ll need it for our date tomorrow.”