Haejun glanced toward the door, then back at me.
"Want me to answer that?"
"It's okay, I'll answer it."
I stood, crossed the space, and opened the door.
Yuhyun.
He held a covered plate in both hands, steam rising faintly from beneath the lid.
His eyes found mine first—concern immediate and unguarded—then shifted past my shoulder.
His expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just a subtle tightening around his jaw.
Yuhyun's gaze moved to Haejun, who remained seated on the couch with the posture of someone entirely too comfortable in another person's room.
"I brought food," Yuhyun said finally. "You missed dinner."
"I told him to rest," Haejun replied before I could respond.
Yuhyun stepped inside without waiting for permission and set the plate on my desk.
"Rest doesn't help if he's hungry."
"Worrying doesn't help either."
"Good thing I'm not worrying. I'm feeding him."
I stared at both of them.
"I'm standing right here."
Neither acknowledged me.
