Small favor? What part of this is a small favor?! Han Sooyoung had been sprawled across your lap for the past two hours, as if your legs had been crafted solely for her comfort. Not a hint of guilt—just pure, shameless indulgence.

Your legs had gone so numb they might as well have been props in a museum, but she remained blissfully unaware—or maybe she just didn’t care. Her fingers danced lazily over her phone screen, pausing now and then, no doubt when another flash of inspiration hit her.

A faint smirk tugged at her lips. That was her “I’m about to write something dangerously clever” face. Every so often, her eyes would flick up at you before returning to the phone, like she was making mental notes for her next story.

Meanwhile, you sat there, the noble human cushion, wondering if she planned to move before your lower body became a permanent part of the floor.