Stalkerizing

I called out the address, which was fine, but once we actually arrived in front of the house, I found myself hesitating.

“Uh……”

This wasn’t exactly what I’d envisioned. Just dropping him off like this felt strangely unsettling—like I’d just used him as a chauffeur.

“Do you want to come in for a cup of tea before you go?”

That was how it happened. An invitation that hadn’t been part of the plan.

Creak.

Sa-yoon was the first to push open the heavy metal door and step inside. Shin-jae, bending slightly, followed after him. The two-story house, built with red bricks, had an undeniably aged look.

Leading the way, Sa-yoon crossed the yard without hesitation. By the time Shin-jae straightened his posture, Sa-yoon was already climbing the steps, reaching the front door.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

As the sound of the door lock unlocking rang out, Shin-jae’s gaze swept over the small flower garden on one side of the yard, the persimmon tree beside it, and the stepping stones leading to the entrance. Compared to his own family home, this place was quite modest. But it was clear that every corner of it had been well cared for.

“Shin-jae.”

By then, Sa-yoon had already opened the door and was waving a hand back and forth, motioning for him to follow. Pulling his gaze away, Shin-jae moved forward.

They say you can tell a lot about a person from their home. At first glance, the living room was incredibly bright and warm. And not just in feeling—it really was. Sunlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, completely unfiltered.

The interior, primarily furnished with wood, had a slightly outdated style, but just like the garden, it was meticulously maintained. Someone in the family must have loved plants because the house, like the yard, was filled with potted greenery. The mix of deep brown and lush green tones created a harmonious balance, making the space feel less old-fashioned and more elegantly timeless.

“Wait here for a bit.”

Pointing to the sofa, Sa-yoon disappeared beyond the living room in an instant. Left alone in an unfamiliar space, Shin-jae glanced toward the direction Sa-yoon had gone. A moment later, he heard the sound of running water.

So, he must have a habit of washing his hands as soon as he gets home. Outside, he had no problem sitting anywhere and shaking off dust, but surprisingly, he had a fastidious side.

Peering around, Shin-jae noticed a hallway but couldn’t tell where the bathroom was. Normally, wouldn’t a bathroom be visible from the living room? Even compared to apartment layouts, which tend to follow standardized designs, this house had an unusual arrangement.

Instead of sitting on the sofa, which was covered in colorful cushions, Shin-jae approached a long sideboard that reached about waist height. It was packed with framed family photos.

Half of the faces were ones he recognized, while the other half unmistakably belonged to siblings who shared the same features. Sa-yoon’s photos stood out immediately, as if they had some kind of filter applied.

There were snapshots from every stage of his life—from his baby days, showing off a round head, to the time he was learning to walk, then his first day of school, graduation ceremonies, family trips… The collection was practically a chronicle of his life.

Shin-jae picked up a small frame from the collection. It was a photo of a child with whipped cream on his nose, blowing out the candles on a birthday cake.

Even as a kid, his sharp, intense gaze was already well-defined—his cold expression seemed fully formed from a young age. And yet, despite that, the way his little nose wrinkled up in concentration… it was actually kind of cute.

After taking a moment to observe this snapshot of childhood, Shin-jae shifted his gaze to the next photo. This time, Sa-yoon was wearing a school uniform, holding a camcorder, and smiling brightly at the camera.

A middle schooler?

His face looked much younger than it did now. Had he already decided on filmmaking as his career back then? That much was unclear. What was obvious, though, was the affection in both the photographer and the photographed—it radiated unmistakably from the picture.

Next to it was another image, one that could easily serve as the definition of a happy family. It was clear just from these pictures where Sa-yoon’s natural warmth came from. He had grown up surrounded by unwavering love.

Without thinking, Shin-jae pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He didn’t even have to dig into his memories—there had never been a moment in his life where pictures like these had been taken.

As he reached for another childhood photo, Sa-yoon appeared. As he approached, a faint scent, reminiscent of baby powder, briefly brushed against Shin-jae’s nose. His eyebrow arched slightly.

That scent really doesn’t suit him.

Is this the kind of fragrance he likes?

His taste was… unusual. No, it was downright peculiar. They say people are drawn to things opposite to themselves—was this one of those cases?

While Shin-jae was caught in the strange contrast between Sa-yoon’s sharp features and the baby-soft scent lingering around him, Sa-yoon, completely unaware, stretched his neck to peek at the photo in Shin-jae’s hands.

“I grew up looking exactly the same, right? I looked like this as a kid too, so my classmates would cry if they got paired up with me.”

“You were cute, though.”

Sa-yoon’s eyes widened in surprise. Then, a moment later, his long, sharp eyes curved into a smile, his lips forming a wide arc.

“You’re surprisingly well-adjusted for society, huh?”

That was unexpected. With that comment, Sa-yoon playfully tapped Shin-jae’s forearm. It wasn’t a hit—just a light touch.

“I’ve heard plenty of times that I looked scary for a kid, but never that I was cute. Thanks.”

Was it because of the soft, almost baby-like scent? Or was it because he’d just been looking at those childhood pictures?

When Sa-yoon smiled, it was like a flower blooming right in front of his eyes. Overlapping with that image was the younger version of him from the photos.

And that was… strange.

It wasn’t like this was the first time Shin-jae had seen Sa-yoon smile. With his cold, sharp features, he looked like the kind of guy who’d smirk mockingly rather than genuinely laugh—but he actually smiled quite often. He had been like that since the first day they met.

But none of those smiles had ever felt like this.

The inside of Shin-jae’s wrist tingled, like the sensation of an oncoming allergy flare-up. Lowering his gaze, he checked his arm. There was nothing wrong with it.

What the hell is this?

“There are a lot of photos, right? My parents love taking pictures. Honestly, it used to be kind of annoying when I was little, but now that I’m older, they’ve all become memories. Oh, this one’s from when we first moved here.”

Sa-yoon kept talking, oblivious to the chaos inside Shin-jae’s head. His long, pale fingers brushed over the frame Shin-jae was holding. It looked like they were about to make contact, and in reflex, Shin-jae jerked his hands back as if he had been burned, hastily setting the frame down.

“Uh, no, I just… Your house is really pretty.”

“Really?”

A comment thrown out at random, but Sa-yoon’s smile brightened even more.

“Actually, my dad built this place himself. He’s an architect.”

“Oh…”

That explained the unusual layout. And just as Shin-jae found himself at a loss for how to respond next, salvation arrived.

—Meow.

A tiny cry came from inside the bag Shin-jae was holding. The kitten, which had been sleeping soundly all this time, had finally woken up. From inside the bag came the faint sound of scratching, the little thing clearly frustrated with being cooped up.

“Oh, looks like Sesame’s awake. Hand me the bag, I’ll put him in my room for now.”

Sa-yoon approached without hesitation, and instinctively, Shin-jae took a step back, holding the bag tighter.

“I need to take my meds first. I’ll get him out myself.”

“You sure?”

Ever since Sa-yoon found out about his allergy, he had been treating Shin-jae like he was some fragile, breakable piece of glass. It wasn’t that bad. He had just been feeling worse than usual that day.

Wanting to prove that he was fine, Shin-jae pulled the bag wide open.

“Hey, don’t open it up like tha—”

Before Sa-yoon could finish his sentence, the kitten, desperate for freedom, leaped out.

“Ah.”

The small, four-legged creature landed right on Shin-jae’s chest. Its tiny but sharp claws dug into his sweater.

“Meow!”

The kitten, now dangling from his clothes, looked just as panicked as Shin-jae. He reached up to remove it, but the moment he tried, the kitten dug its claws in even deeper, clinging for dear life with all the strength its little body could muster.

Shin-jae had never handled a cat this closely before—not even when he’d helped rescue one on campus. The tiny creature in front of him seemed so delicate that he was afraid it might pop like a balloon if he gripped it too tightly.

He couldn’t just rip it off, but letting it stay there wasn’t an option either. Stuck in this ridiculous predicament, Shin-jae stood there, his face twisted in helpless frustration.

Watching him struggle, Sa-yoon stepped closer.

“Hold on. I’ll do it.”

To get a better look, Sa-yoon suddenly leaned in, his face coming dangerously close to Shin-jae’s chest. The abrupt invasion of personal space made Shin-jae’s breath hitch. Once he became aware of it, he found himself unable to inhale or exhale properly.

“It’s really dug in deep. I’ll be careful not to ruin your sweater, so just stay still for a second.”

The sweater wasn’t the problem.

Sa-yoon slid a hand under the kitten’s small body to support it, his palm naturally pressing against Shin-jae’s sternum in the process. The sudden warmth of someone else’s touch against his skin made Shin-jae flinch involuntarily.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

As Sa-yoon moved his hands, the baby-powder-like scent Shin-jae had been noticing grew even stronger. What kind of soap did this guy use for the smell to be this intense? It was seriously throwing him off.

Completely unaware of Shin-jae’s inner turmoil, Sa-yoon gently coaxed the kitten.

“Aww, Sesame, were you scared? It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”

And why the hell was his voice so unbearably soft?

To make matters worse, Sa-yoon’s hair brushed against the underside of Shin-jae’s chin, sending a feather-light tickle along his skin. Everything about this moment was overstimulating.

This was absolute madness.