Netkama Punch!!!

And then, Shin Heejae did something no one had asked him to.

“I’ll block Yuna’s number.”
“…What?”
“I’ll tell her to send anything work-related by email only and cut off all personal contact.”

“Wait, hold on—”
Hearing that made my ears burn hot for some reason.
‘W-Why does this feel like…’

Like I was some jealous girlfriend trying to control her boyfriend?
The worst part was, seeing him actually go that far… it made my anger start to fade.
‘I mean… thinking about it now, I really should’ve just let it go from the beginning… Why did I do all that? I even wasted taxi money.’

The second that thought crossed my mind, a fresh wave of shame hit me. I suddenly realized how ridiculous I’d been acting.
But even so, I didn’t stop Heejae. Right in front of me, without hesitation, he typed out a message telling Yuna to send all future contact by email—and then actually blocked her number.
Sure, I knew he could just unblock her when I wasn’t around. But still…

“…And if you’re going out drinking again, at least say something first.”
“I won’t drink anymore.”
“……”

“What else should I stop doing?”
Every time I told him not to do something, this bastard looked even more excited to agree. Especially now, smiling at me like that—it felt like I was the one being pulled in.
So I kicked him in the shin and snapped,

“Don’t smile.”
“You’re so mean.”
* * *
Now it was 4 a.m., and the two of us were sitting together in front of the dining table. It all started because Shin Heejae suddenly said he was hungry. I gave him the cup noodles I bought earlier, which he inhaled in seconds. Then, while I was yawning and barely keeping my eyes open, he kept poking at me.

“Hey. Aren’t you curious what movie I booked?”
“…What is it.”
“Actually, I didn’t book one yet. I didn’t know what you liked.”

“Just pick anything.”
“You think this is a solo date?”
He kept nagging me until I picked the newest movie with the most showtimes from the ones he pulled up. But the moment I picked it, Heejae made a face.

“Everyone says this one sucks. Just a bunch of forced emotional drama.”
“Goddammit! Then pick it yourself!”
“Do you not watch movies?”

“No.”
“Then maybe a drive—”
“Shut up and look at this.”

“Yes ma’am.”
It didn’t stop there. Then he started pestering me to pick a restaurant. Half-asleep, I blindly tapped something.
“You seriously wanna go to an Indian curry place?”

“…Say one more word and see what happens.”
I cut him off, got up, and went straight to the bed. I flopped face-down and closed my eyes, but I could hear him padding after me. When the mattress shifted with his weight, I said with my eyes still closed,
“Get off.”

“There’s enough space for two.”
“You’re fat. I can’t breathe.”
“Excuse you. This is all muscle, thank you.”

Then he started tugging the blanket toward his side. I swung a punch randomly, hit something, but he didn’t move.
That’s when I suddenly remembered the package I brought in after work.
“Hey, your package came.”

“Huh?”
“You even get your stuff delivered here now?”
“…Ah.”

He suddenly shot up like he’d figured something out. Then he looked down at me for a moment.
“Did you open it?”
“What? Why the hell would I open your stuff?”

“It’s yours…”
…What?
I cracked one eye open and watched as he went to get the package.

“What did you order?”
“Clothes.”
“…What?”

“You picked my outfit, right? So I picked yours.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“I’m wearing my own clothes.”

“We agreed to wear what the other picked.”
“We? No. You agreed.”
“I already bought it.”

“Then return it.”
“Can’t. It’s from overseas. If I send it back, the return shipping’s more than the item.”
Overseas? And it got here this fast? I stared, dumbfounded, as he grabbed a cutter and opened the box.

“……”
Still, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity about what he picked. He did have decent fashion sense, and usually dressed well.
But what he pulled out of the box was…

“You fucking psycho. Are you trying to die?”
Instant rage. Whatever sleepiness I had evaporated.
It was a black dress.

Heejae glanced at me, eyes flicking back and forth.
“It’s cute…? No?”
“……”

I immediately reached for the cutter knife, but he kicked it away before I could grab it.
“Hey, are you seriously insane?!”
“No? Why are you so mad?”

“Wouldn’t you be mad?!”
“You’re skinny, so it’ll look great on you.”
“Who the hell diets to wear dresses?!”

Even when I shouted, he didn’t so much as blink. That unnerving composure gave me a sudden chill—did this guy actually think of me as a woman?
“You asshole, I’m not a girl.”
“Who said you were? You’re the one getting confused ‘cause I call you noona.”

“Do you wanna die?”
But instead of backing down, Heejae doubled down like I was the one overreacting. Then he searched something on his phone and shoved it in my face.
“Same one this guy wore.”

It was a photo of a famous male idol known for being a fashion icon.
Sure enough, the skirt in the photo looked almost identical to the one Heejae had in his hands. But I wasn’t a damn idol, and I didn’t enjoy wearing skirts like some walking avant-garde concept.
“You wear it.”

“I would’ve if you picked it.”
His refusal to give in was driving me mad.
Then, the bastard started coming closer with the dress, like he was going to hold it up to me. I tried to run, but he was faster. He tackled me onto the bed.

“Die!!”
“Just stay still for a second.”
Heejae grinned and put his hand on my lower back. It was like he was about to strip me, and I flailed like hell—but the bastard was heavy, and I couldn’t shake him off in this position.

“I’m seriously going to kill you!”
“Not something you should say on a bed…”
“You son of a bitch!”

Fortunately, he didn’t take anything off. He just laid the dress across my back and pressed down gently on my shoulder, like telling me to calm down.
Then, in a low voice, he asked:
“Do you really hate wearing skirts that much?”

“Fuck off!! Get off me!!”
“Want something else? I got another one.”
He flashed me a smile, grinning down like a damn demon.

And I finally realized: the dress was bait. He had something else in mind all along—this was just to make me pick the real outfit.
“Get out. Now.”
“It’s just a normal T-shirt.”

“I’m not wearing it!”
“If you won’t wear the tee, I will dress you in the skirt.”
“You sick fu—”

I kept trying to roll away, but I was too drained. In the end, I surrendered.
“Fine! Jesus, fine! I’ll wear the other one! Just—get off!”
Satisfied, Shin Heejae finally let me go. I was so wiped out I couldn’t even move. He dug through the box, pulled out a T-shirt, and held it up.

“Cute, right?”
“……”
It was a plain white tee… or it would’ve been, if not for the full-sized photo of Heejae’s face printed across the back, winking like a clown.

“…I’d rather die.”
“Skirt «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» or this—pick one.”
“You’re a fucking psychopath.”

“If you wear a cardigan, it’ll cover the back.”
“……”
I buried my face in the pillow, trying to pretend I hadn’t heard, but he plopped the shirt down right on the back of my head.

“Come on, try it on.”
“……”
“I put a lot of thought into that design.”

So he did make it himself.
The murderous rage that surged up gave me enough strength to leap out of bed. I grabbed the shirt and tried to tear it in half, but Heejae said in a warning tone:
“If you rip that… I’ll replace every shirt in this closet with ones that have my face on them.”

“YOU SICK FUCK!”
In the end, I gave up and put the damn thing on over my pajamas.
At least the front was plain—or so I thought, until I noticed the little [HJ♡] embroidered over the heart. The moment I saw that, I wanted to strangle him.

As soon as the shirt was on, Heejae’s face flushed, lips trembling with suppressed laughter. He kept begging me to turn around so he could see the back, and when I finally did, he burst into hysterics.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I tackled him to the ground and kicked him mercilessly.