The stillness of the apartment felt heavier with Hana gone—no chatter, no clinking dishes, just the hum of the AC and Taehyung's own pounding pulse as he loosened his tie. He'd debated staying late at the office, but some impulse dragged him home early. Maybe to suffer. Maybe to—

The hallway carpet muffled his steps until the creak of Koo's door froze him mid-stride. She emerged in a whisper of steam, a towel barely clinging to her hips, her hair dripping onto bare shoulders. Taehyung's brain short-circuited. Water droplets traced the valley between her tits, her nipples pebbled from the AC's chill. "Oppa!" she gasped—too theatrically—as the towel "slipped." It pooled at her feet with a wet slap, revealing every inch of her glistening skin.