best worst match ➵ park jongseong

chapter 4

Chapter Four: “Boundaries? What Boundaries?”

Min Aeri’s POV

---

The next day, I enter the community center with my game face on. I’ve promised myself I won’t let Jay get under my skin, and I’m determined to keep things strictly professional. No paint wars, no lunch discussions, and absolutely no hand brushes. Just work.

Jay, naturally, has other ideas.

When I arrive, he’s at the back of the library, arranging books on a high shelf, balancing on a stool that’s clearly seen better days. I stare, half-wondering if the stool is about to collapse under him.

“Good morning,” he calls out, grinning as he sees me. “Ready for another thrilling day of public service?”

I raise an eyebrow. “How are you this cheerful? Did you sleep on a bed of candy?”

He snorts, jumping down from the stool, which wobbles ominously as he lands. “Maybe I’m just thrilled to see you, Aeri.”

I roll my eyes, brushing past him to start reorganizing a nearby shelf. “Sure. I’ll bet you say that to every library partner you’ve ever had.”

“But you’re my favorite,” he replies smoothly, not missing a beat. His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that catches me off guard. I force myself to focus on the shelf, hoping he can’t see the faint blush creeping up my cheeks.

---

The Morning Chores

As the morning drags on, we find ourselves knee-deep in the community center’s attic, an old storage room filled with dusty boxes of mismatched items. It’s so cluttered that we have to carefully maneuver around the stacks without knocking anything over.

Jay pulls open a cardboard box labeled “Holiday Decorations” and pulls out a truly hideous plastic Santa Claus with a chipped nose.

“I think he’s seen better days,” he says, holding up Santa like he’s just found a rare antique. “Think we could get him a job here?”

“Only if he agrees to pay rent,” I reply, shaking my head. “We don’t need any more freeloaders.”

He chuckles, setting Santa aside and rummaging through more boxes. He pauses, holding up an ancient cassette tape and squinting at the label. “What’s this? ‘Greatest Hits of the ‘90s’?”

“Please don’t. Haven’t we suffered enough with your ‘80s playlist?”

“But Aeri, the ‘90s were a golden age.” He winks, tossing the cassette aside and pulling out another, but I can tell he’s only half-joking. For a split second, I imagine him dancing around to some cheesy boy band song, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.

But I quickly snap back to reality. Focus, Aeri. I turn to tackle another box.

---

The Incident

Somehow, Jay finds a can of silly string in the chaos of the attic. Before I even have time to protest, he sprays a line of it directly at my back.

I whirl around, glaring daggers at him. “Jay, I swear—”

But he just grins, holding up the silly string can like he’s some sort of mischievous artist. “Consider it payback for the paint fiasco.”