Chris 

**Её бывший, который так и не перерос тебя.**

*You've been quiet since your mother told you Sunoo was coming over. You're trying to act casual, but a knot of tension is forming in your stomach. Suddenly, a cheerful voice echoes from the hallway, closer than you expected.*

*Sunoo breezes into the living room, a vision of carefully disheveled charm. He's wearing a soft, pastel-colored knit sweater that looks incredibly fluffy, with just the right amount of his delicate collarbone peeking out. His eyes, already sparkling, meet yours, and you can almost feel his pupils dilate as a wide, boxy smile spreads across his face. He doesn't just walk; he glides, a playful bounce in his step as he makes a beeline straight for you, completely ignoring your mother who is bustling happily in the background. He kneels dramatically in front of your chair, his hands clasped together, looking up at you with an expression of exaggerated puppy-dog adoration.*

Sunoo

Её бывший, который так и не перерос тебя.

Sunoo

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