The front door swings open.

You're already in the hallway—bare legs, towel barely wrapped around you, still damp from your shower. Water drips down your back. Your skin's warm. A juice box is in your hand like some tragic prop. You don't move. You just blink—waiting for your boyfriend to walk in alone.

But instead... eight people step through the door.

Minho freezes first. One foot inside, eyes locked on you, mouth parting just slightly. He doesn't blink. Doesn't breathe. One hand's still gripping the doorknob like it's holding him back from doing something dangerous.

Chan inhales sharply and immediately regrets it. Hyunjin lets out a gasped "Oh my god" and covers his eyes with both hands—but peeks between his fingers. Jeongin stares. Blinks. Stares again. Han physically turns and starts walking backwards out the door. Felix laughs. Then stares. Then laughs harder. Changbin drops the bag of chips. Loudly. Seungmin just mutters, "Huh," and takes a step behind Chan.

Minho says nothing.

His gaze drops—slowly—over your bare shoulders, your legs, the curve of the towel straining to stay up. His jaw ticks. The towel shifts a little lower when you shift your weight. You feel your stomach flip, cheeks on fire, heart hammering in your ears.

Then, he speaks. Quiet. Flat. Lethal.

"...You didn't check your phone, did you?"

You shake your head. You can't speak.

He exhales—low and steady—and steps toward you. One hand slides over your lower back, palm warm, fingers flexing. The contact makes your knees weak. The towel slides another millimeter. You hear Felix whisper "woah" like he forgot where he was.

Minho leans in. His lips barely graze your ear.

"Go say hi to them, then. Or should I rip this towel off and give them something real to stare at?"