“You.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know this was your house. I don’t have a key and thought it was an empty place… I’ll leave right away.”

Even as she reached for her bag strap, Junyoung’s gaze remained fixed on Beomjin as he descended the stairs. Stories about him began surfacing one by one in her mind.

Beomjin, who had been staring at her tense posture, suddenly opened his mouth wide in a tiger-like yawn. His voice, still thick with drowsiness, drawled.

“Not my house.”

“What?”

“It’s empty. No one’s been here for a month. Except you.”

Junyoung blinked, dumbfounded. Beomjin nonchalantly retrieved a cup from a drawer beneath the sink, filled it with tap water, and drank it in large gulps. Junyoung, who had instinctively hunched her shoulders and shrunk inward, stammered as she asked:

“Then what… are you doing here?”

“Sleeping.”

“Sle… what?”

“Not *that* kind of sleeping. I mean, I sleep here. Why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing!”

“You’re here to study, right? Well, I’m going back to sleep. Do what you came to do and leave when you’re done.”

Rubbing his eyes, Beomjin climbed the stairs again and sprawled on the bed. Junyoung, blinking rapidly as she tried to collect herself, stiffly lifted her head. She couldn’t hear any sounds of breathing or snoring, leaving her unsure of what he was doing upstairs.

Should I leave? I should leave. Who knows what someone that intimidating might do?

…But.

There’s no better place than this. Besides, it didn’t seem like Kwon Beomjin had any stronger claim to the place than she did. He’d just found it slightly earlier than she had.

Clenching her fists tightly, Junyoung took a deep breath and cautiously climbed the stairs one step at a time, intent on simply confirming whether or not he was really asleep.

The steps were steep and high, so she had to be careful. Bending to avoid hitting her head on the low ceiling, she ascended and saw Beomjin lying on his side with his eyes closed.

Is he really asleep? I can’t exactly poke him to find out.
“How did you know I came here to study?”

“What? If you have something to say, just say it.”

Junyoung was startled by the sudden voice, causing her to lose her grip on the handrail and stumble. She screamed, “Ah!” as her body started to fall backwards, only to be yanked forward in an instant.

Her heart pounded as if it were about to burst out of her chest. With her eyes tightly shut, Junyoung panted heavily for what felt like an eternity before opening her eyes—and realising she was pinning Beomjin down. Her wrist, which he had grabbed, stung.

Letting out a silent scream, she pressed against Beomjin’s chest to lift herself off of him, only to hit her head hard on the low ceiling with a loud *thunk.*

Clutching her head and curling into a ball in pain, Junyoung endured the throbbing as Beomjin let out a mocking laugh.

“Have you never come up to the second floor before? The ceiling’s low here.”

Wiping away the tears that had sprung up, Junyoung tried to suppress the lingering pain and looked up as if nothing had happened.

“You smell.”

“…That’s what you say to someone who just saved your life? If it weren’t for me, your head would’ve cracked open—or worse.”

Half-sitting up, Beomjin grumbled with a disgruntled look. The reduced distance between them was enough to make Junyoung feel pressured, leaving her fumbling for words.

“The bed smells dusty.”

Sniffing his own shirt, Beomjin nodded as if to confirm her observation. Not missing the moment, Junyoung asked, “How did you know I came here to study?”

“I saw you.”

“When?”

“The day before yesterday.”

Answering readily, Beomjin noticed Junyoung’s widening eyes and added in an annoyed tone, “I woke up and saw someone sitting at the desk. I recognised it was you from the back of your head, so I just went back to sleep.”

“You recognised me from the back of my head?”

“You sit in front of me in class. Well, front-front.”

Can someone really recognise another person just from the back of their head?

Junyoung blinked, her confusion mounting when Beomjin’s ominous voice cut through the air.

“If your goal was this bed, I would’ve kicked you out.”

Junyoung, who had learned to detect violence in people’s voices through experience, instinctively stiffened. As she stared at him with wary eyes, Beomjin shrugged indifferently.

“But it seems like your goal is the desk. If that’s the case, coexisting should be possible. We both need a quiet space, after all. We won’t bother each other since we’re after different things.”

Struggling to calm her racing heart, Junyoung narrowed her eyes at him.

Despite his intimidating stance, their conversation was surprisingly ordinary. What he said even made sense. At the very least, he didn’t seem like someone completely unreasonable.

“So you come here to sleep, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Why not just sleep at home?”

To this, Beomjin replied nonchalantly, “Why don’t you just study at home?”

Junyoung immediately understood what he meant. Just as she had her reasons, so did he. But that wasn’t the issue right now. After a moment of thought, she spoke again.

“It’s an empty house, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Even if it’s empty, someone else could come in here just like we did.”

Beomjin’s sharp gaze flickered as he smirked crookedly, understanding her point.

“Sounds like we need a padlock. I’ll bring one next time.”

“You’re going to give me a key, too? Why?”

When she questioned him sceptically, Beomjin let out a small yawn and muttered, “I told you we can coexist.”

“Wouldn’t it be more convenient for you to use it alone?”

Junyoung pressed further, her uneasiness growing. Beomjin’s brows furrowed slightly as he raised his voice.

“So, do you want the key or not?”

“Yes, I’ll take it.”

“Good. Now go to your spot downstairs.”

Beomjin, clicking his tongue, lay back down. As Junyoung reluctantly descended a couple of steps, she leaned her head back and asked, “By the way, do you even know who I am?”

“Do you think I’m dumb enough to not know people’s names just because I’m bad at studying? You’re Junyoung Yoon, top of the school.”

Well, he’s not wrong, she thought, mumbling inwardly as she obediently went downstairs. And so, their “coexistence” began.

At school, however, their relationship remained unchanged. They didn’t speak to each other. There was no reason to.

Even here, they didn’t talk much at first. But things gradually changed, especially after Beomjin brought ramen one day and they shared a meal.

The only downside was that he started bringing ramen every day after that. Still, she couldn’t complain—there wasn’t much else to eat, and it was a nice gesture.

Beomjin even experimented with variety: eggs one day, cheese another, or generous amounts of kimchi and chilli peppers.

His effort deserved appreciation, so she made sure to eat everything.

As Junyoung packed up her study materials after catching the aroma of ramen, she used an old wuxia novel from the house as a pot holder.

Moving her chair slightly aside, she watched as Beomjin set the pot down, steam wafting upward.

“How many eggs did you put in this time?”

“Five.”

“The yolks are broken.”

“Two of them aren’t.”

“I told you not to break them.”

“Hey.”

Beomjin narrowed his eyes as he handed her a spoon. In the past, such a look would have made Junyoung avert her gaze, but not anymore. She met his glare head-on as he shook the spoon at her.

“When we’re cooking in one pot, there’s no way to perfectly match both our preferences. Scoop it out and eat it however you like.”

Pouting slightly, Junyoung served herself a portion. Since there was no dining table, they always ate at the desk. Though she had considered giving Beomjin the lone chair a few times, today was not one of those days.

Despite being annoyed by bits of egg whites sticking to the noodles, the spiciness from the chilli powder made the meal tolerable. Blowing on her food, Junyoung glanced at Beomjin, who was eating his ramen while standing and asked, “Is there anything you don’t eat?”

Beomjin started to respond but paused, raising an eyebrow. With a faint smirk, he looked at her and said, “Your bad attitude is a little too obvious.”

“And you, for someone who looks intimidating, have surprisingly good intuition.”

Scoffing, Junyoung retorted, causing Beomjin to let out an exasperated laugh. Suddenly, he leaned in close, slurping his noodles without caring about the splash—and the victim was Junyoung’s white shirt.

“Hey!”

She yelled, pointing at the specks of broth that had splattered. Beomjin flinched slightly at her outburst, looking as if he hadn’t expected the mess.

“Just wash it at home. Wear another shirt.”

I was planning to wear this one more day; she thought bitterly, slamming her chopsticks down.

Beomjin, seemingly indifferent to her glare, continued eating.

If your fists weren’t twice the size of mine, I swear you’d be dead, she muttered internally.

When he finished his ramen, including the broth, he finally acknowledged her piercing stare. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he said, “Fine. Take it off. I’ll wash it for you.”

“What? Take off what?”

“The shirt. You unbutton it and—”

“You crazy idiot!”

Shocked at his matter-of-fact response, Junyoung pushed her chair back sharply, only to hit the wall with the back of her head. Wincing, she rubbed the spot as Beomjin clicked his tongue.

“Is banging your head against walls your hobby? What, are you so smart it frustrates you?”

“Shut up.”

As she snapped, still rubbing her head, Beomjin casually pulled off his own t-shirt. Junyoung’s jaw dropped at the sight of his toned upper body.