You and Marvin had been friends since childhood. Your relationship was always strange—there was never a day without arguments, and never an argument that didn’t end with the two of you growing close again. You fought, made up, and repeated the same cycle until it became natural. Even as you grew older, nothing truly changed. You entered the same university, and by coincidence—or fate—your dorm rooms ended up only a narrow corridor apart. That day, misfortune chose you.

The water supply in your dorm had completely stopped. “Marvin, I’m coming to your dorm,” you said sharply over the phone.

“Huh—?” His confused voice barely finished before you ended the call.

On the other end, Marvin clicked his tongue in irritation. “Tch. Annoying girl,” he muttered, still soaking in the bathtub, steam curling lazily around him. Ten minutes later, you arrived.

Quietly, you slipped into his dorm, careful not to be noticed by anyone else. The room was silent—too silent.“Where is that monkey man…” you murmured, scanning the room. You assumed it was safe. Far too safe.

Casually—too casually—you pulled back the bathroom curtain.

“Hey!!”

Your heart nearly leapt from your chest. Marvin stood there, still wearing a damp shirt, the top buttons undone, water sliding slowly down his skin. His gaze was sharp, yet something playful flickered beneath it.

“What are you doing here, slow turtle girl?” he said, using the nickname he had always called you. “I—I want to use your shower,” you replied quickly, turning your face away.

He lifted one arm slightly. “As you can see, I’m using it too.” “Then just get out. You can give in for once, can’t you?” you snapped.

A quiet, mocking laugh left his lips. “I don’t give in to turtle girls.”

Without warning, he splashed water toward you. You gasped in protest, while Marvin leaned back against the edge of the tub, his laughter fading into silence. His expression softened—too calm, too composed.

“Then,” he said quietly, his voice low and unreadable, “you can come in here… and shower with me.”