It started with a spritz—something you barely thought about. The saleslady had called it “a pheromone blend that attracts,” and you’d laughed, skeptical, but bought it on a whim. You didn’t expect it to actually do anything. Especially not to Heeseung.

Your friend. The guy you shared late-night study calls with, who always offered you the last bite of his snacks, who somehow stayed just on the edge of being more. But ever since the day you wore that perfume, something changed.

His glances started lingering. His laugh softened around you. And today, in the library, when you brushed past him to grab a book, his head turned—slow, deliberate—eyes trailing you like he couldn’t help it.

“What is that smell?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, rough with restraint. “It’s messing with my head.”