Their chests moved up and down with each breath, slightly misaligned but still pressed tightly together. Their stomachs touched. Feeling the warmth transmitted through their skin, Jeong Tae-ui slowly, very slowly, let go of the tension in his body.

He never wanted to endure such suffering again. Maybe he really needed to rethink which line he was standing in. This was way too much to handle.

“Jeong Tae-ui. …—You like me.”

Ilay called his name again, this time with clear pronunciation—sometimes his enunciation was surprisingly precise. Maybe he had been practicing in secret. After a short pause, he continued speaking.

Tae-ui snapped his eyes open. Though barely able to lift his heavy eyelids, it was still an instant awakening.

He thought he had just heard something strange.

“Even if your mouth is crooked, you have to speak properly…”