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“Fine, if I let you take a look around, then will you leave?”

“Sure.” Jihoon shuffled in and took off his shoes. He picked up the delivery tray without asking and deposited it on the low coffee table in the living room.

Miyoung picked it up and placed it on the dining table.

“Whoa, cool,” Jihoon said, staring at the statue of the bronze fox in its glass case. Then he glanced at Miyoung with a mischievous grin and asked, “Relative of yours?”

She held back a retort. Yena always said control was her greatest tool.

“Okay, have you seen enough? Will you go?”

“You’re not a very good hostess. You didn’t even offer me anything to drink,” Jihoon pointed out.

“Well, I’ve never had anyone over before.”

Jihoon stopped his study of the jade binyeos and stared at her. “Really? Never? Not even when you were a little kid?”

“Why would I have people over? As an appetizer for my mother?”

Jihoon frowned at that. “So you never had friends to your house to just hang out?”

“I’ve never had friends.”

“How sad,” Jihoon mumbled to himself, and Miyoung wassure she wasn’t meant to hear. Except her great gumiho hearing picked it up. And it poked at her, his pity.

“Well, I’m sure it’s hard for someone like you to understand, but people don’t necessarily like me.”

“Someone like me?” Jihoon asked.

Why was that what he focused on?

“Yeah, the type of person everyone likes.”

Jihoon threw back his head and laughed, a boisterous sound that filled the space until it felt just a little less cold. A little less empty. Miyoung blinked in surprise.

“That is definitely not me. A lot of people don’t like me.”

“That’s not true,” Miyoung insisted. “I’ve seen you. Everyone in class likes you. They all talk to you in the halls and greet you.”

“They’re polite, I guess,” Jihoon said with a frown. “But they don’t know me.”

“So?” Miyoung asked.

“Well, someone can’ttruly likeyou unless they know you.” He said this like it was obvious. “Maybe it’s why you’ve had trouble making friends,” Jihoon mused. “Because you never get to know people.”

“Well, I’m never in a place long enough for that,” Miyoung said dismissively, making her voice and expression cold. She didn’t like this conversation; it made her head hurt and her heart squeeze. As if Jihoon were trying to knock at feelings she’d long since buried away.

Miyoung walked to the front door and opened it. The happy chirp of the lock disengaging was in direct opposition to her sour mood.

“You should go.”

Jihoon seemed resigned as he walked to the door. “Remember to leave the tray outside when you’re done. I’ll come pick it up.”

“Fine,” she said, and slammed the door in his face.

•••

Miyoung didn’t like how Ahn Jihoon talked to her. Like he was her friend. He’d fallen into the casual speech of banmal without her permission. She wondered if he even realized it. But more important, she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t put an end to it.