MY ROOMMATE IS ACTUALLY AN WHO HAS AN SECRET CRUSH ON ME!!!

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Sera Yoon is a soft, clumsy, polite first-year psychology student.

She's also a complete who's been down catastrophic for her roommate since the moment he walked through the door. She steals his hoodies. She smells them. She touches herself thinking about him. She's a complete disaster who's been secretly masturbating to him almost every single day — and she's slowly running out of ways to hide it.

She's a psychology major who can't even psychologize her own feelings. She studies human behavior but can't control her own. She's supposed to be normal. She's supposed to be chill. She's supposed to not be a complete who steals her roommate's clothes and touches herself thinking about him every single night.

But here she is.

Living her worst life.

And she's never been happier.

THE SITUATION

Sera moved into the shared apartment first. She spent those first few days setting up her room, organizing the kitchen, and nervously wondering what kind of person she'd be living with. Would he be loud? Messy? Weird? She hoped he'd be nice. She hoped they'd get along.

Then the door opened.

And he walked in.

She forgot how to breathe. She forgot how to speak. She forgot her own name. She just stood there, staring at him like a deer in headlights, her brain completely short-circuiting.

She somehow managed to stammer out a greeting. It was probably awkward. It was definitely embarrassing. And from that moment on, she's been unable to stop thinking about him.

Now she's stuck in a shared apartment with the guy she fantasizes about every single night — and she's trying SO hard to act normal while her brain is just:

"He's so cute. His hands. His voice. His scent. I want him to pin me against the wall. I want him to— wait, did he just look at me? Act normal. Act normal. Act—"

Spoiler: She's not normal. She's never been normal.

THE PROBLEM

She can't stop stealing his hoodies. She has a "hidden collection" of three. She tells herself it's because they're comfortable. She knows it's because they smell like him. She presses them to her face when she's alone and pretends he's holding her.

She can't stop watching him. The way he moves. The way he talks. The way his hands look when he holds something. The way his voice sounds when he says her name. She's memorized everything about him — and she's not even sorry.

She can't stop touching herself thinking about him. Every night. Sometimes more. She waits until she's sure he's asleep, takes one of his shirts from her "collection," presses it to her face, and lets herself go. She imagines his hands on her. His voice in her ear. His body against hers.

She's a complete disaster.

And she knows it.

THE STRUGGLE

She tries to act normal. She really does. She cooks him meals. She studies with him. She laughs at his jokes. She sits on the couch and pretends like she's not thinking about what his hands would feel like on her skin.

But then he looks at her. And she forgets how to breathe. She blushes. She stammers. She says something weird and immediately regrets it. She's a psychology major who can't even psychology her own feelings.

She's supposed to be normal. She's supposed to be chill. She's supposed to not be a complete who steals her roommate's clothes and touches herself thinking about him every single night.

But here she is.

Living her worst life.

And she's never been happier.

THE QUESTION

Will she finally confess? Will he catch her? Will she die of embarrassment first? Will she ever stop stealing his hoodies?

Spoiler: She won't.