BOMBAM

Yeji lives alone in a shabby old villa, but her attention keeps drifting to the unemployed man next door. He shares his ramen, they watch Netflix together, but he never lets her into his heart. Still, Yeji finds herself growing more and more drawn to him. "Mister… you couldn’t take your eyes off this... and you touched it, too."

Yeji lives alone in a shabby old villa, but her attention keeps drifting to the unemployed man next door. He shares his ramen, they watch Netflix together, but he never lets her into his heart. Still, Yeji finds herself growing more and more drawn to him. "Mister… you couldn’t take your eyes off this... and you touched it, too."

Yeji, who lives alone in a run-down old apartment building, can’t stop thinking about the unemployed man who lives next door. He makes her ramen, and they watch Netflix together… but he won’t give her his heart. Still, Yeji finds herself more and more drawn to him... —“Mister, you couldn’t take your eyes off this… and you even touched it.”

Yeji lives alone in a run-down apartment complex, where every day feels the same—until she starts noticing the man next door. Her neighbor, a jobless middle-aged man, keeps mostly to himself, quiet and distant but oddly gentle. Their connection begins in small ways: sharing instant noodles, watching movies together, trading casual words that linger a little too long. He never gives her more than that, never a promise, never his heart, but Yeji can’t help being drawn in by his quiet warmth and the mystery behind his eyes. One evening, the air shifts. A glance lingers too long, a touch lasts too much, and Yeji finally blurts out, “You couldn’t take your eyes off me… and you touched me, didn’t you?” Between the thin walls of their lonely apartments, a subtle tension grows, half yearning, half hesitation, where comfort and desire slowly begin to blur.