Seon-Woo wasn't exactly the type to invite someone over casually. His apartment had always been his private corner of the world — a place where he hid when life outside felt too loud, too chaotic, too much. But tonight, that silence felt empty instead of peaceful, and the first person who came to his mind wasn't surprising at all.
Ji-Hyun.
She had this strange way of settling into his thoughts without even trying. Sometimes it annoyed him. Sometimes it confused him. But most of the time — like today — it just made him want to see her.
So he texted her.
"Come over? Movie night?"
He didn't expect her to reply so fast.
"Be there in 20."
And now, Seon-Woo was staring at the door like it could blast open at any second. He kept checking the living room — the cushions were straight, the lights dim but not too dim, the snacks placed neatly on the table. He wasn't nervous.
At least, that's what he kept telling himself.
When the doorbell finally rang, he inhaled sharply and opened it.
Ji-Hyun stood there wrapped in a soft hoodie and jeans, her hair slightly messy from the breeze outside. She gave him a small, casual wave, but her eyes softened the second they met his.
"Wow," she said, stepping in. "You actually cleaned."
"I always keep it clean," he muttered.
She raised an eyebrow. "Sure you do."
He cleared his throat. "Anyway, pick a movie."
Ji-Hyun walked around like she'd been there a hundred times, even though this was her first time in his apartment. She didn't seem awkward or hesitant — she fit into the space instantly, like she belonged there.
She drifted toward the shelf, scanning the titles, then glanced over her shoulder.
"Something calm? Something funny? Or do you want to pretend you're deep and pick some three-hour documentary?"
"Just pick one," he said, trying not to smile.
She picked a simple, lighthearted movie and dropped onto the couch with the confidence of someone who knew he wouldn't mind.
He didn't.
Seon-Woo sat beside her, not too close, not too far. The movie began, the opening music filling the room softly. For the first few minutes, they watched quietly, but Ji-Hyun had a habit of commenting on every little thing. And somehow, he didn't mind that either.
Halfway through the movie, she shifted — not away, but closer. Just slightly. Her knee brushed his, and she didn't move it back.
He felt the warmth through the fabric of his pants.
He pretended to be focused on the movie.
He failed.
Ji-Hyun glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her voice softer this time.
"You okay? You're weirdly quiet."
"You're talking a lot," he replied.
She laughed, bumping her shoulder against his. "You like it."
He did. And she knew.
The room fell into a comfortable silence again, but this one felt… different. Not empty. Not heavy. Just soft.
Then she leaned forward and snagged a piece of popcorn from the bowl, but instead of sitting back normally, she ended up slightly tilted toward him. Her hair brushed his arm.
And maybe it was because the lights were warm, and her perfume was light, and her presence was steady — but something inside him just clicked.
"Ji-Hyun."
She turned her head slowly. "Hm?"
Her eyes met his, clear and steady, without a trace of hesitation.
Seon-Woo didn't overthink it this time.
With a gentle but confident motion, he reached out, guided her slightly closer by the waist, and before she could react, he pulled her into his lap. Not roughly, not suddenly — just enough for her to land softly, his hand supporting her so she wouldn't lose balance.
Ji-Hyun froze for half a second, her eyes widening, her hands instinctively resting lightly on his shoulders for balance.
"So this is what you meant by 'movie night'?" she said, breath catching just a little.
"If I said that earlier, you wouldn't have come," he said calmly.
She blinked, stunned at his boldness. "Wow. Someone's confident."
He tilted his head slightly. "You don't seem to be getting off, though."
She looked down at how her legs were draped over his and then back at him.
Then she smiled — slow, small, but real.
"Maybe I don't want to," she whispered.
Everything inside him stilled. Softened.
The air between them shifted — not heavy, not rushed, just warm.
He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She didn't look away. Didn't flinch. She leaned into his touch like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And then, with no drama, no hesitation — he leaned forward and kissed her.
It wasn't hard or rushed. It was gentle, steady, like something he'd been holding back for a long time but wanted to do right. Her lips moved softly against his, warm and slow, a quiet answer to everything they'd been avoiding.
When they finally pulled apart, Ji-Hyun's face was still close, her breath warm on his.
"You really just did that," she whispered.
"You kissed back."
She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Shut up."
"I'm right, though."
"You're annoying."
"You're still not getting off."
Her cheeks warmed — not embarrassed, just flustered enough to make her human.
"Fine," she muttered. "Maybe I like it here."
Seon-Woo didn't say anything for a moment. He just… looked at her. The way she fit perfectly on his lap, the way her fingers unconsciously curled around his shirt, the way her expression softened only when she was around him.
Then an idea flickered in his mind — impulsive, but not reckless.
He reached for his phone on the side table. She noticed the movement immediately.
"Hey— Seon-Woo, what are you doing?"
"Hold still."
"What— no—!"
But he was faster.
He lifted the phone, angled it perfectly, and snapped a picture of her sitting on his lap, her expression flustered but unmistakably fond.
"Delete it!" she said, grabbing for his phone.
"No."
"Seon-Woo!"
He grinned — a rare, real grin — and tapped the screen.
"Don't you dare—"
Too late.
He posted it.
The caption was simple, not dramatic, not too revealing, but enough for anyone who saw it to understand one thing clearly:
She's with me.
Ji-Hyun froze, staring at him with a mixture of disbelief and mortification.
"You actually posted it," she said slowly.
"I did."
"And you're not even sorry."
"I'm not."
She stared for two more seconds. Then she sighed, leaned forward, placed her forehead lightly against his chest, and muttered:
"…You're impossible."
"But you're still here," he said quietly.
She didn't argue this time.
Her arms slipped around him, not tightly, but enough — enough to say everything she didn't put into words.
The movie kept playing in the background, but neither of them watched it anymore. The room felt warmer now, and the silence between them wasn't empty at all.
For the first time in a long time, it felt like something new had begun.
Something that didn't need to be rushed.
Something that didn't need explanations.
Something that just… fit.
Ji-Hyun shifted slightly, but instead of getting off, she settled more comfortably on his lap, resting her cheek against his shoulder.
"You know," she murmured, "if you wanted me to sta
y close… you could've just asked."
"I did," he said. "You just didn't notice."
She smiled into his shirt.
"Next time," she whispered, "ask again."
"I will," he replied.
And he meant it.