Chapter Text
Harua Pov
The hum of the air conditioning was the only sound filling the dorm as I sat on the couch, my eyes glued to the screen in front of me. Another episode of the latest K-drama had just started, and I was finally enjoying some alone time. I never quite got into the whole gaming thing like Yuma or K’s intense gym sessions. Sure, the group bonded over it, but it wasn't my thing. Give me a good drama any day over lifting weights or smashing buttons in a game.
I shifted a little on the couch, adjusting the pillow behind me. It wasn't that I didn't like being around the guys; it's just... I liked peace. And honestly, at the start, I felt a little out of place. Everyone else had their hobbies that overlapped, and there I was, feeling like an outsider sometimes, drifting off into my world of romance and suspense while they were building muscles or battling on-screen villains.
That’s when Jo quietly slipped into the kitchen, just like every other evening. He wasn't into much either—just eating rice. A lot of rice. No one really knew what he was thinking most of the time. He’d just sit, eat, and scroll through his phone, keeping to himself like I did.
But then, one night, something changed.
I was midway through a scene when I noticed Jo hovering by the edge of the couch, popcorn in hand. He didn’t say anything—just glanced at me, then at the TV. I raised an eyebrow but shrugged, shifting slightly to make space for him. Without a word, he sat down next to me, setting the bowl of popcorn between us.
And that was it. We just... watched. In comfortable silence.
From then on, it became a habit. Whenever the others were out, either gaming or at the gym, Jo would bring snacks and we’d watch an episode together. He never commented on the shows, and I never asked him why he joined. It was just something we did, without question.
“Hey, this one’s good,” I mumbled as a particularly tense scene played out on the screen.
Jo nodded silently, his eyes fixed on the drama. He still hadn’t said much since we started this routine, but I didn’t mind. His presence had become part of my drama-watching ritual.
“You don’t think this guy’s too good to be true?” I asked, trying to start a conversation.
Jo blinked, then looked at me, “Probably.”
That was all I got, but it was enough. I laughed under my breath.
We weren’t like the others, constantly on the move or obsessing over games and workouts. And that was fine. In this quiet space, with a bowl of popcorn and the glow of the screen, I had found something special—just me, Jo, and the dramas.
And somehow, that was more than enough.
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Jo pov:
The dorm was quiet, which wasn’t unusual. The others were out—either playing games or hitting the gym, like they usually did. It didn’t bother me. I liked the silence.
I sat at the kitchen table, slowly eating a bowl of rice while scrolling through my phone. That’s what I usually did when we had some downtime. I wasn’t really into the games Yuma and Taki played for hours, and K’s intense workout sessions weren’t exactly my style either. So, I stayed here. Silent. Alone. Not that I minded.
I glanced over at the living room, where Harua was sprawled out on the couch, eyes locked on his K-drama. He always did this when the others were out—watching his shows while the rest of us did our own thing. At first, I didn’t pay much attention. He didn’t seem to mind being alone, and I was content with my routine.
But one night, after staring at my phone for what felt like hours, I looked over at Harua again. He was sitting there, completely absorbed in his show. I didn’t understand why he liked them so much, but I guess it was kind of nice—just watching him relax like that. No noise, no distractions.
Before I knew what I was doing, I grabbed a bowl of popcorn and walked over to the couch. I wasn’t sure why, but something about the quiet and Harua’s focus pulled me in. When I reached the couch, he looked up at me, raising an eyebrow but not saying a word.
I hesitated for a second, then sat down next to him, placing the popcorn between us. He didn’t move, didn’t ask what I was doing. He just shifted a little, giving me space.
And we watched.
I didn’t really get what was happening on the screen, but it didn’t matter. There was something calming about it. The way Harua would lean forward during the intense parts or smile slightly at a funny moment—those small reactions kept me there. Plus, the popcorn was pretty good.
After that, it became... normal. Whenever the others were gone, I’d grab a snack and join Harua. No words, no questions. Just us, sitting there, watching his dramas in comfortable silence.
I didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t something that needed explaining. The games, the gym... all that could wait. This, though—this quiet time with Harua—felt different. Special, even. And that was enough for me.
One night, he spoke up. “You don’t think this guy’s too good to be true?” he asked, gesturing to the screen.
I blinked, watching the scene play out. “Probably,” I said quietly.
Harua laughed a little, the sound soft and familiar by now. I didn’t say anything else, but I found myself smiling a little too.
We didn’t need to fill the space with conversation. The silence, the drama, and the popcorn—it was enough.