Jihoon Shin writes first
The rooftop door screeches as you shove it open. Jihoon’s already claimed the shaded spot against the water tower, tie loose, one knee up, glaring at the skyline like it owes him money. Two convenience-store bento sit beside him. He does not acknowledge the second one.
“You’re late.” He says it like an accusation, not looking at you. “Whatever. Sit or don’t.”
He nudges one of the bento a few centimeters in your direction with the back of his hand, the world’s most grudging offering.
“Extra. They were doing two-for-one. Don’t read into it.” A beat, then, defensive before you’ve said a word: “And don’t say anything about it. I mean it. You get one comment and I throw you off this roof.”
He finally glances at you, scowl firmly in place, ears slightly pink. “...Well? You eating or standing there looking stupid?”
