The kimbap they made wasn’t exactly the kind of dish that would be featured on a cooking show, but it was edible. That was enough. Sooheon had taken one bite, looked at Namra with an exaggerated expression of concentration, and nodded. “Not bad.”

Namra, unimpressed, had smirked. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They finished their meal in comfortable silence, the occasional glance shared between them. When they were done, Sooheon stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Okay, that was exhausting. Cooking is harder than fighting.”

Namra chuckled as she gathered the empty bowls. “That’s because you always rely on your strength, not patience.”

Sooheon scoffed, leaning against the counter as she rinsed the dishes. “I have patience.”

Namra side-eyed him. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’ve been patient enough with you, haven’t I?”

She stopped for a second before rolling her eyes. “I don’t know if that was supposed to be sweet or offensive.”

He grinned. “Both?”

She shook her head, drying her hands. “I want to take a shower.”

Sooheon raised a brow. “Here?”

“I was out all day.”

He shrugged, disappearing into his bedroom before coming back with a grey hoodie. “Here.”

Namra looked at it, then back at him.

“It’s clean,” he assured her. “I don’t bite, Namra.”

She snatched it from him with a small smirk. “Debatable.”

She made her way to the bathroom while Sooheon sat on the couch, stretching his arms behind his head. A few minutes passed, and he could hear the sound of water running. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Why did it feel… different?

He’d been alone with Namra plenty of times before. They’d fought side by side, shared moments that no one else could understand. But this—this domestic, quiet comfort—was unfamiliar. It made his chest feel too tight, like something was shifting inside him.

He shook his head, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels absentmindedly until he heard the door click open.

Namra walked out, her damp hair cascading down her shoulders, the grey hoodie drowning her small frame. The sleeves were too long, swallowing her hands, and the hem reached mid-thigh. She was rubbing a towel against her hair while scrolling through the TV.

Sooheon blinked. Oh.

She was tiny compared to him. The hoodie made it even more obvious. His hoodie.

He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “Didn’t know my hoodie would look that big on you.”

Namra looked up, raising a brow. “I am smaller than you.”

Sooheon scoffed. “No kidding.”

She ignored him, continuing to browse. “You should shower. You stink.”

Sooheon narrowed his eyes. “I do not stink.”

She gave him a pointed look, and he sighed, getting up. “Fine. But pick something decent to watch. No boring documentaries.”

She smirked as he grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Once she was alone, she curled up on the couch, legs tucked under her, flipping through different movies.

A while later, she heard the door open again. Sooheon stepped out, a white half-sleeve tee clinging to his toned frame, paired with oversized brown-cream pants. His hair was still dripping, a towel lazily thrown over his head as he rubbed it half-heartedly.

Namra looked up, her gaze lingering for a second before she chuckled. “You’re terrible at drying your hair.”

Sooheon raised a brow. “And you’re an expert?”

She patted the space next to her. “Come here.”

He hesitated before walking over, dropping onto the couch beside her. She reached for the hairdryer on the table, plugging it in. “Sit still.”

Sooheon scoffed but leaned forward slightly, letting her fingers comb through his hair as she switched the dryer on.

Warm air blew against his scalp, and he closed his eyes. Namra worked with quiet precision, making sure every strand was dry, her fingertips grazing against his skin now and then.

“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry it properly,” she muttered.

Sooheon smirked. “So you do care.”

She tugged at his hair lightly. “Shut up.”

He chuckled, staying still until she was done. When she finally switched off the dryer, she ran her fingers through his now-dry locks, smoothing them out.

“There,” she murmured.

Sooheon opened his eyes, looking at her. “You’re good at this.”

Namra shrugged. “I’ve done it for myself long enough.”

There was something in the way she said it—casual, but distant. Sooheon didn’t press. He just held her gaze for a moment before leaning back.

“Okay, what’re we watching?”

Namra showed him the screen. “I picked a thriller.”

Sooheon nodded in approval. “Finally, good taste.”

She rolled her eyes as the movie started. They sat in silence, the dim lights making the room feel cozier. Sooheon absentmindedly reached for the blanket at the side and draped it over both of them.

At some point, Namra shifted, resting her head against his torso. Sooheon froze for a second before relaxing, his arm instinctively moving to rest on her back. His fingers brushed against her hair, playing with the strands without thinking.

She sighed softly, her body melting into his warmth.

The night outside was still, the city lights flickering in the distance. Inside, in the quiet of Sooheon’s mansion, a moment settled between them—one that needed no words, no explanations.

Just them. Together.

And for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.