"Tea?" Woo Bin asked softly, tipping his head to peek around Yi Jung to see his hands at work.

Yi Jung jumped and spun, the delicately-curved pot - the artistry clearly marking it as one of his own pieces - skidding sideways along the counter as he moved, and Woo Bin caught it handily before it could reach the edge, eyeing his friend with concern. "Awfully jumpy today . . . what were you so engrossed thinking about? The lovely Ga Eul perhaps?" he teased.