A package waits for Sehun in the hall beside his apartment door. Vivi sniffs it, snorts, and stands at the door, all interest solely on returning home.

Sehun unlocks the door, opens it with a foot for his dog, and carries the box inside. It isn’t heavy, but whatever is inside slides a little when tipped.

“’You’ve stolen my heart.’” Sehun flips the card over; it’s printed only on one side. He doesn’t even see a printer’s logo or watermark in the light. “Weird.” Pawing through the paper, he discovers another box within the shipping box. He pulls it free and shakes it a little over the table, freeing the lid from its bottom.

Within cottony cushioning rests a golden statuette. Sehun flinches a little, catching its unexpected ends in the corners of the box, and more carefully removes the object.

It’s a heart, ventricles and valves and all, pierced through with a skinny arrow. Everything is shimmering gold, which probably has some symbolism, but Sehun thinks it’s pretty. Gaudy, but pretty.

“Who would send me this?” He frowns at the unhelpful card and flips the flap of the shipping box over. The return address is in a nearby town. “What do you think, Vivi? Secret admirer, or has Chanyeol hyung ordered something for his boyfriend and mailed it here to keep it from Jongin?” Vivi rolls his head over his paws, feigning interest.

He calls Chanyeol, who denies knowing anything about the statuette.

Sehun sets it on a shelf, cuts down the boxes to be recycled, and tears the shipping label from its flap. A search supports his assumption; the address is outside the city, some factory district. He doesn’t know anyone from the area.

“I guess I get a free statue,” Sehun tells himself.

The golden heart rests in the shadow of a potted plant and old souvenirs, a gaudy addition to attract dust.

An identical package arrives nearly two weeks later. The light overhead buzzes and flickers, but even in the shadow Sehun reads his address and carries the box inside.

The shipping address is the same, and the card inside is printed on one side. It reads: “My heart belongs to you.”

Another golden statuette rests on a cloud of stuffing. A flowering vine ensnares the heart, tight enough Sehun notices little indents in the flesh of the heart. He doesn’t know a lot about art, but seeing softness like that in a solid medium is impressive. Little trumpet-shaped flowers rise from their vines on skinny stems that look too small to be stable.

It gives him a funny feeling, though. Once can be random, but twice suggest the beginning of a pattern. Usually, he’d be thrilled that someone’s so interested in him, but the messages on their own are kind of romantic; paired with literal hearts unsettles his own in his chest.

Maybe he should report it to the police. It would probably be considering stalking, if anything, but nothing has actually happened to him or his property. He’s just been given gifts. Questionably romantic gifts.

He’s been admired before. Bolder girls approach him. This could be someone’s awkward, bougey attempt at flirting. Depending on what it is, Sehun could be bought. He usually likes being doted on.

He usually knows the doter, though.

The flowering heart sits on the shelf beside the pierced original. Sehun cuts down the boxes and takes Vivi for a walk.

He doesn’t want to be near the statuettes, if he can help it.

The shelf with the hearts grows gray and fuzzy. The potted plant withers from neglect. Souvenir figures wear cozy suits of cobwebs and dust against the dropping temperature.

The following week, Sehun stands outside his apartment. He needs to reminds his landlady about the burnt-out light at his end of the hall. Possibly the building’s heat, as well. The hall is freezing; outside is warmer than inside.

Another box waits patiently in the middle of the doorway; his landlady mentioned taking the package up for him. She’s considerate and kind, but he rather wishes she’d kept it in the office.

He pushes it inside with his foot, unwilling to touch it with his hands but not having much choice to unbox the third one-sided card—“Forever yours; we belong together.”—and the golden statuette carved with an intricate knot in its left ventricle.

Sehun replaces it in its box and sets the first and second with it, along with the cards.

“I’m going out, Vivi. We’ll go for a walk when I get back, okay?” His dog grunts, and he leaves.

The light outside his apartment is burnt out. He walks under flickering hall lights to the elevator, which opens with its usual ding and reflective brilliance.

It’s comforting, being the only one in the elevator car and having the ability to check his back.