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“You’re wearing my socks.”
Yongbok scratches the rounded tip of his nose, struggling to keep his eyes open even as they’re glued to his phone. “Hm?” he hums, distracted and low, trickling out listlessly from the center of his chest, right where an unsightly orange stain still lurks from lunch. That shirt is too big anyway, drowning him inside it, a spell to make him smaller than he actually is.
Seungmin holds a careful breath and counts to three, ignoring the twinge behind his ribcage. He points. “Those are mine.”
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