Jiwon was the human equivalent of a golden retriever: soft eyes, permanently rosy cheeks, dangerously huggable, and just a little too willing to carry everyone’s emotional baggage. You were the opposite—dry wit, villain-in-a-romcom energy, and a smirk that screamed “I know something you don’t.”

A few months into dating, you started a tradition. A weird one. Whenever Jiwon did something good—like remembering to submit his paper on time, resisting the urge to cry during a mildly emotional dog food commercial, or just listening patiently while you monologued about morally gray characters—you’d hand him a snack.

A single snack. A lone gummy bear. Half a sour straw. Once it was a Tic Tac, and you declared it “premium currency.”

Jiwon was confused. Deeply. But also? Intrigued.

There was something weirdly satisfying about it. The little glint in your eye. The way you’d say “Good” with just enough smugness to short-circuit his brain. He started expecting it. Craving it. Like Pavlov’s dog, if Pavlov also flirted with him and stole his fries.

Then came The Incident.

You two were walking home from a movie. Jiwon had carried the snacks, opened every door, even gave his scarf to a shivering raccoon. He turned to you, practically glowing with pride.

“Well?” he said, sticking out his hand. “Where’s my reward?”

You blinked.

And then started laughing. No, not laughing—cackling. Like full cartoon supervillain.

Jiwon frowned. “What?”

“You just… asked for it,” you wheezed. “You literally said, ‘Where’s my reward.’ You sound like a trained spaniel!”

Jiwon’s eyes widened. “Wait. Wait, wait—WHAT?!”