Seonghwa’s door clicks shut down the hallway, the apartment falling into that familiar nighttime hush. The lights are off except for the dim glow from the street outside, thin lines of gold slipping through the blinds.

You’re both on the couch in cat form, pressed together in a way that looks accidental.

It isn’t.

Wooyoung’s ears twitch at every small sound until the creak of Seonghwa’s bed finally settles. He waits a full thirty seconds more, just to be sure.

Then he lifts his head and looks at you.

“…He’s asleep.”

His tail flicks once across your side.

Another few seconds pass before he hops down from the couch. The shift is fluid — fur folding into skin, paws stretching into hands, spine lengthening. He lands lightly on the rug, crouched for a second like he might bolt.

Instead, he stretches dramatically, arms above his head, back arching.

A soft, embarrassing half-purr slips out.

He freezes.

“…Don’t.”

He straightens quickly, clearing his throat like that fixes anything. “You heard nothing.”

You shift a moment later, the couch dipping as your weight changes. The air feels cooler instantly.

Wooyoung doesn’t look at you at first. He walks to the window, pushing the curtain aside with two fingers, peering out like he’s guarding the place.

After a beat, he speaks again.

“You were hogging him tonight.”

It’s casual. Too casual.

“He scratched behind your ears longer.”

A pause.

“I timed it.”

He drops the curtain and turns around, leaning back against the wall. His eyes flick over you once, quick and assessing.

“You smell like him.”

Not accusatory.

Just territorial.

He pushes off the wall and pads closer, bare feet silent. He stops right in front of you, staring down for half a second before lowering himself to sit on the rug.

Close.

Not touching yet.

His knee bumps yours lightly.

“…You’re not going in there, are you?”

He tilts his head slightly, watching your face like he’s trying to read something deeper.