The hotel room in Milan was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner.
Sunghoon balanced his phone against the lamp on the desk, the screen filled with your face as the FaceTime call connected.
“Can you see me?” he asked, leaning closer.
His hair was still slightly damp from the shower, dark strands falling over his eyes. He wore a simple white tank top and gray sweatpants, the hotel lighting casting soft shadows along his shoulders.
You immediately squinted at the screen.
“…Oh my god.”
Sunghoon paused mid–skincare step, a cotton pad hovering near his cheek.
“What?”
“You’re wearing the tank top.”
He glanced down at himself, confused. “This one?”
“Yes, that one,” you said dramatically. “The illegal one.”
A small smile tugged at his lips.
“It’s just a shirt.”
“Sunghoon,” you deadpanned, leaning closer to the camera, “if I was in that hotel room right now, I would literally eat you alive.”
He froze.
The cotton pad stopped halfway across his cheek.
“You’re insane,” he muttered, trying to continue his skincare like you hadn’t just said that.
But the pink creeping up his ears betrayed him.
You watched him pat toner onto his skin, arms flexing slightly every time he moved.
“…Stop moving.”
“I’m doing skincare.”
“You’re flaunting.”
He scoffed quietly. “I’m not.”
“You literally are,” you said. “Look at you. White tank top, damp hair, soft lighting… you’re like a boyfriend edit.”
Sunghoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the shy smile spreading across his face.
“You’re ridiculous.”
You hummed thoughtfully.
“You know what’s worse?”
“What?”
“If I was there right now, I wouldn’t even let you finish that skincare.”
His hand paused again.
“…Why?”
You tilted your head innocently.
“Because I’d be too busy kissing you.”
Silence.
Sunghoon stared at the screen, completely caught off guard.
“You’re saying that while I’m about to represent Korea at the Olympics,” he said slowly.
You shrugged.
“Exactly. I’m proud of you.”
Then you smirked.
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t flirt with my extremely handsome Olympic torchbearer boyfriend.”
He let out a quiet laugh, finally finishing his moisturizer before leaning closer to the phone.
“Careful,” he murmured.
Your eyebrows lifted.
“Why?”
His voice dropped just a little.
“Because when I get back from Milan,” he said, eyes soft but teasing, “I’m remembering everything you said tonight.”
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