Thud.

The center of the junk pile—stacked like a mountain—caved in.

“Shit,” Uijae muttered, opening his eyes. And there, staring straight at him, were a pair of wide violet eyes.

“……”

“……”

Their noses were touching. They were close enough that their breaths mingled. That strong, familiar scent, one he hadn’t smelled in a long time, wrapped around all his senses.

It’s Lee Sa-young, Uijae thought, certain.