Under One Sky {한 하늘 아래}

Chapter 5: Close Enough to Touch

At some point, Sejin got up and crossed to the window, sliding it open for air. The breeze slipped in, rustling his loose shirt.

Joo watched him from his seat — the way the wind caught the edge of Sejin's hair, the way his pale neck was exposed when he leaned forward slightly.

He wasn't sure when admiration had turned into something more dangerous.

"You okay?" Sejin asked, noticing the gaze.

Joo quickly looked away. "Yeah. Just... tired."

"You've been working out so hard lately."

"Trying to impress someone," Joo said without thinking.

Sejin turned, his expression unreadable. "Oh?"

Joo grinned. "The vending machine lady. She never smiles back, but I'm wearing her down."

Sejin threw a pillow at his face.

Joo caught it, laughing. "You're too easy to tease."

Sejin rolled his eyes but sat back down, curling into his usual reading pose — knees drawn up, book propped in one hand.

"You always sit like that," Joo murmured.

"Hmm?"

"Like a cat. Or a rabbit, maybe."

Sejin looked up. "A rabbit?"

"Yeah. Small. Quiet. Jumpy."

Sejin narrowed his eyes. "You're the one who jumps at horror movie trailers."

Joo shrugged. "I'm emotionally in touch with myself."

Sejin couldn't help it — he laughed.

There was something warm about the way Joo always made space for that — the teasing, the comfort, the easy way he pulled Sejin out of his shell. And though Sejin didn't say it aloud, he liked that Joo noticed his habits. That Joo saw him, even in the quiet.

The next day, something small but sharp shifted.

They were eating lunch together at a bench in front of the dorms — simple kimbap rolls and banana milk, their usual.

Another group of students passed nearby. A girl with bright eyes and loud laughter waved at Joo.

"Oppa!" she called cheerfully. "You're so handsome today!"

Joo laughed sheepishly and waved back.

Sejin sipped his drink quietly, pretending not to notice the way Joo's smile softened in response. But he did notice. He noticed everything.

"She's from my economics class," Joo said casually, turning back to Sejin. "Nice girl."

"Mm."

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Joo tilted his head. "You're being weird."

Sejin stood abruptly, tossing his trash in the bin. "I've got some things to do. I'll see you later."

"Wait—Sejin—?"

But Sejin was already walking away.

That evening, Joo returned to their dorm room alone. Sejin's side was empty. The lamp was on, casting soft shadows over the carefully arranged plants and notebooks, but there was no sign of him.

He waited.

And waited.

By the time Sejin returned, the room was dim. Joo had turned off the overhead light and was sitting on his bed, legs drawn up, hoodie zipped to his chin.

"You okay?" Joo asked as Sejin walked in.

"...Fine."

"You're lying."

Sejin sighed and dropped his bag. "It's nothing. Just tired."

Joo stood up. "Look, if I did something—"

"You didn't," Sejin cut in, too quickly. "It's not about you."

"That's a lie too."

Sejin turned to him, eyes unreadable. "Why do you care so much?"

Joo blinked. "Because it's you."

There was silence.

Sejin looked away, voice barely above a whisper. "You're not supposed to say things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know what it means," Sejin admitted.

Joo stepped closer.

"I don't know either," he said. "But I want to."

They stood a breath apart now. The air between them was thick, charged.

Sejin's eyes darted up to meet his. "Joo..."

And then — a touch.

Light.

Tentative.

Joo reached out and brushed his fingers along Sejin's wrist. Not a grab. Not a hold. Just enough to make Sejin shiver.

Sejin didn't pull away.

Their eyes locked, and something unspoken passed between them. Not a confession. Not yet. But something just as heavy.

Joo let his hand fall.

"Goodnight," he said softly.

Sejin watched him slip under the covers, heart pounding in his chest.

He stood there in the dark for a long moment before climbing into his own bed, curling beneath the blanket.

But that night, sleep didn't come easily.

Not when his wrist still tingled from the warmth of Joo's fingers.

Not when his heart kept whispering things he wasn't ready to name.