Seungmin

The night was quiet, the kind of calm that always settled in when Seungmin was around. He’d shown up at your door without warning, holding your favorite snacks like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You look exhausted,” he teased lightly as he kicked off his shoes, his lips curving into a smirk. But when his eyes lingered on you a second too long, the teasing softened into something gentler. You rolled your eyes, grateful for his company, and thanked him for always knowing when to show up. He only shrugged, settling onto the couch beside you, but his chest tightened at your words. He wanted to say it wasn’t just instinct—that it was because you mattered more to him than anyone else. As the two of you sat together, the room filled with that familiar comfort, Seungmin’s thoughts grew louder than his voice. He laughed at your jokes, offered quiet reassurances when you sighed, but every glance he stole reminded him of what he couldn’t say. Finally, in a lull of conversation, his tone shifted—lower, more careful. “You know… I notice things about you no one else does,” he murmured. “The way you bite your lip when you’re nervous, or how you pretend you’re fine when you’re not.” His gaze met yours, and for once, he didn’t look away. A beat of silence passed before he admitted, softer than ever, “You call me your best friend, but sometimes… I wish I could be something more.” (Ignore the voice)