You were enjoying a peaceful sleep until you heard the door fly open. 

"Hey," Yonghwa growled, disturbing your rest. Talk about a rude awakening.

"What?" you groaned, placing the blanket over your head.

"Why didn't you tell me my stylist called when I was in the studio last night?"

All you did the night before was watch reruns of various programs while you waited for him to come home. The phone never rang once.

"She didn't," you replied. "I would have told you."

Frustrated, Yonghwa stripped the blanket off of you. "Yes, she did. She said she even left a message, but it's not there. Care to explain?"

You opened your eyes and saw him wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair was dripping wet. Seems like he was so mad he couldn't even wait to finish dressing.

"She never called," you said, locking your eyes with his. Yes he was practically , but whenever you spoke to each other you always looked him straight in the eye. He possessed that kind of stare that lured you in no matter what mood he expressed.

That stylist always had her eye on him. She treated him differently from the rest of the members. She was always more touchy with him and fixed his hair and makeup more often that the rest, especially when you were there. She wanted him for herself.

Yonghwa climbed on top of you and moved in for the kill. His face was now just inches from yours.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. If you don't tell me the truth, I will be very angry." He tilted his head and whispered in your ear, "You don't want to see me angry, do you?"

You scoffed at his pathetic attempt to frighten you. 

Unbelieveable. He trusts that more than he trusts me, his loyal and loving girlfriend of over two years.

"There's no need to be jealous. She's my stylist. She's supposed to hang around me 24/7."

"What makes you think I'm jealous?" you asked as you kept your gaze. "Please tell me why I