After the embarrassment and shame settled down a bit, guilt was the first thing to surface. Thankfully. Uijae ran a hand through his hair.

‘Can I really be thinking like this about someone who's unwell?’

There was no worse thought than this. Uijae rubbed his masked face vigorously, but he still couldn’t shake the memory of the firm body that had clung to him earlier.

Those arms that had wrapped around his waist as if they’d never let go, the subtle rise and fall of Sayoung’s back as he caught his breath, and the small, tear-choked breaths. How could he …