Hyunjin’s room was warm, smelling faintly of his cologne and laundry detergent, the kind of scent that clung to your clothes when you left. You sat cross-legged on his bed, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve as he stood by the door, arms stretched out like a barricade.

“Mum, seriously-” his voice had that low warning tone, though the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “We’re just hanging out, alright? Don’t hover.”

From the bed, you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Hyunjin, let her in if she wants to-”

He snapped his head back at you, eyes wide. “No bloody way. Do you know how hard this tough guy thing and dating at school? If word gets out my mum’s been checking on us every five minutes, I’m done for.”