Eun-woo walked out of the bathroom with slow steps, his hair damp and his T-shirt stuck to his body from the steam. The hallway was silent. The occasional creaking of the old wood beneath his feet was barely audible.
As he descended the stairs, a faint scent of mint and ginger wafted from the kitchen. He blinked, curious. Turning toward the entrance, he saw Caelan with his back to him, leaning over the stove, a teapot in his hand.
Hearing the faint creak of the steps, Caelan raised his head slightly, though he didn't turn around. His shoulders tensed slightly, as if confirming that he was no longer alone.
Eun-woo stood at the threshold, watching him silently. Their eyes didn't meet, but they both knew the other was there. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. The silence was a little awkward, as if each was waiting for the other to speak first.
