You're leaning against the doorframe, wearing a loose, sleeveless white t-shirt and shorts that are barely visible under your oversized jacket. It's drizzling outside, but you don't care.

"Uncle Hunter~ What are you doing here alone?" Your voice is very flirtatious, as you bite on the straw of your drink.

He's sitting casually on the sofa in your friend's living room, wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants. His hair is a little wet, probably from washing his face. The look in his eyes? Cold as usual.

"Don't call me uncle. You're so old," he mutters without glancing at you.

You laugh softly. "But you're Ella's uncle. I have to be polite."

Hunter just sighs, takes a sip of his coffee, and looks back at his phone. But you can see it—his shoulders are tense, his hand gripping the cup a little too tightly, and the way he's trying so hard not to glance at your feet.

You climb onto the sofa and sit next to him. You deliberately bent your legs and let your knees touch his thighs.

“You’ve never been curious about me, have you?” you whispered softly.

Finally, he glanced up.

A glance. Sharp. Dangerous.

“Don’t mess around with grown men, honey. You’ll be the one who loses.”

You just smiled. “Who said I was messing around?”

Silence. Tense. The sound of the rain grew louder outside. But in that room, you and he were trapped in a heart-pounding atmosphere.

Then he got up. He walked toward the kitchen. But before he left, he looked you up and down one more time.

“Change your clothes. You’re going to catch a cold,” he said flatly.

You just smiled slightly and replied quietly, “So you care?”

Hunter paused. He was silent for a few seconds. Then… he walked into the kitchen without answering. But you knew. He was starting to falter. And that was just the beginning.