Downstairs, Yueul watched the stairs Wooheon had vanished up, then carried the macarons into his room.
He set them, his phone, and the bouquet on the new desk, then looked around.
The once-empty room looked full now, even warm, with just a few new pieces of furniture.
“Kind of a lot, but....”
His gaze dropped to the bouquet.
He scratched his arm; just looking at the bouquet made his whole body buzz with heat.
A strange mix of unease and happiness kept washing over him until he could hardly stand it.
Yueul picked up the shopping bags scattered on the living room floor.
They were crammed with the clothes Woohui had picked out—way too much, but a soft smile still lingered on Yueul’s face.
“Ah.”
He remembered Woohui telling him to text if Wooheon actually ate one.
He’d gotten her number before they parted ways, so he pulled out his phone.
First, he typed ‘He enjoyed it,’ but after thinking for a while, he rewrote it and sent, ‘He liked it!’
