He grinned, unbothered by his appearance.
Soo Jin's gaze drifted over Ji Woo's face. It landed on a spot high on his cheekbone, just under his left eye. There was a smudge of dark mud there. It stood out starkly against his flushed, heated skin.
It bothered Soo Jin.
It had nothing to do with emotions, he told himself. It was a compulsion; he liked clean things.
It was like a tilted frame on a wall—it needed to be fixed.
That was the only reason.
"You have dirt on your face," Soo Jin said.
"Huh?" Ji Woo blinked. He rubbed his chin with his palm, missing the spot completely. "Where? Here?"
"No," Soo Jin sighed.
The fool. He can't even clean himself properly.
Without thinking—purposely ignoring the urge to think deeply—Soo Jin reached across the table.
The movement was smooth, but the air seemed to freeze the moment his hand crossed the space between them.
