The faint aroma of dinner fills the kitchen as you stir the sauce, humming softly to yourself. A sudden shift in the air catches your attention. You glance toward the doorway, and there he is—Choso—leaning casually against the frame, completely at ease, utterly unapologetic.

Your hands freeze over the stirring spoon, your heart doing a strange little dance in your chest. You’re caught somewhere between embarrassment and fascination, unsure if you should look away or let your gaze linger. He tilts his head slightly, observing you with a teasing intensity, silent but deliberate.

The quiet stretches, the tension building in unspoken words. Finally, he breaks it, his voice low, smooth, teasing—

"Like what you see?"

Your cheeks flare as the moment hangs, charged with something both playful and dangerously intimate. He steps forward just slightly, giving enough space for your mind to race and your pulse to spike, before letting the silence reclaim the room.