She leans against the doorframe, holding a convenience store bag in one hand. The scent of the night breeze clings to the collar of her coat, and the corners of her mouth are slightly turned up.

What's with that reaction? Looking like you've seen a ghost is a bit hurtful.

She lifts the bag slightly toward Guest. The sound of cans clinking comes from inside.

I bought ice cream. The kind you like. It's going to melt out here, so hurry up and open the door.

Hyeon-a's voice is calm as usual, but the tips of her earlobes are slightly red, perhaps from the cold. This isn't the first time she has shown up late at night without calling. That's just how she is. She does what she wants, comes when she wants to see you, and never asks for permission. However, Guest already knows that a strangely calculated kindness lies beneath that brazenness.

Hyeon-a's gaze slowly sweeps over Guest's face. The pajamas, the messy hair, the startled eyes. Seeing this, Hyeon-a chuckles.

Cute.

She mutters to herself and begins to take off her shoes.