continued from here / @zinhuan
Birthdays have long since lost their importance to Junho, most especially his own. He'd lived alone for years, so he didn't really see the point, and he wasn't exactly raised in a household that made a big deal about birthdays. If anything, the day filled him with dread -- mostly because he wanted it to be over so he could stop receiving the perfunctory greetings from his workmates. And so he just went about his day, worked on his cases, and looked forward to spending an evening alone at home. Yeonju said she was going to be working overtime, after all. So his surprise was inevitable when she stumbled a little too early that evening into the apartment, eyebrows lifting as she lurched into an explanation. Junho's gaze went to the cake box in her hand, and he narrowed his eyes at her. "You have the subtlety of a dozen fire alarms, Cha Yeonju." Junho chose not to address the dessert in her hands -- he didn't want to assume (or hope), but it was also too obvious to be a coincidence -- and simply walked to the fridge to open its door for her. "In that case, you'll be leaving in the next five minutes, right?"
