Under One Sky {한 하늘 아래}

Chapter 6: Confessions in the Dark

It had been a long week.

Sejin barely recognized the days as they passed in a blur of assignments, classes, and moments of quiet solitude in their shared dorm room. There were still mornings where Joo would leave early, and Sejin would sit alone at their desk, staring at the unfinished sketchbook. He'd begun drawing Joo more often, but never to the point where he could admit it. They were moments of vulnerability he couldn't allow himself to face head-on.

At night, when Joo would return from jogging or the gym, Sejin would feel a subtle shift in the air. He wasn't sure when it started — this constant feeling of something almost there but not quite. It lingered, heavier than the silence they shared, always unsaid between them.

Tonight, it was particularly thick.

Joo had arrived later than usual, his shoes clicking against the floor as he entered the dorm room. Sejin hadn't looked up from his book, though he had heard the door open and close. It was always that quiet sound, a rhythm they'd both come to recognize.

"Sejin," Joo's voice broke through the stillness, low and hesitant. "Can we talk?"

Sejin glanced up from his book, meeting Joo's eyes for the briefest moment before turning away. "I'm reading."

Joo didn't move from his spot by the door, eyes lingering on Sejin with an unreadable expression. He ran a hand through his damp hair, a tired gesture. "You're avoiding me."

Sejin let out a breath, keeping his gaze fixed on the page. "I'm not avoiding you."

"Then what is this? You've been distant all week. I can barely get a word in with you anymore."

Sejin didn't respond immediately. There were so many things swirling in his mind, things he had no right to feel but couldn't ignore. He felt his heart beating faster, the weight of the words he hadn't said pressing against his chest.

"I've been busy," Sejin said, voice tight.

"Yeah, sure." Joo's tone softened with something like frustration, but also a hint of care that Sejin couldn't quite push away. "But you've been shutting me out. Don't pretend like I don't see it."

Sejin didn't know how to explain it. He didn't know how to put into words the way his stomach fluttered whenever Joo walked into the room, the way he felt when Joo smiled at him — like something inside him wanted to explode, like he was standing on the edge of something he wasn't ready to face.

"I just... need some space," Sejin muttered, though even he didn't fully believe his own words.

Joo stepped closer, his footsteps light but purposeful. "Sejin, what's going on with you?"

The question was so simple, but it felt like it unraveled something inside Sejin. He looked up at Joo, the light from the lamp casting shadows across his face. For the first time in days, their eyes locked, and Sejin couldn't look away.

"You wouldn't understand," Sejin whispered.

Joo's expression softened even more, and his voice dropped to a gentle, almost tender tone. "Try me."

Sejin's breath caught in his throat. His fingers trembled, gripping the book a little too tightly. "I... I don't know what to do with this. With you."

Joo was quiet for a long moment. He wasn't smiling anymore, just watching Sejin with a steady gaze that seemed to search right through him.

"I'm not the one you're pushing away, Sejin," Joo said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're pushing yourself away from me."

Sejin couldn't bring himself to respond. His mind raced, but nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it could explain the mess of emotions that tangled inside him every time Joo was near.

"You think I don't see it?" Joo continued, moving even closer. "The way you look at me? The way you pull away when I get too close? You're scared, but you're not scared of me."

Sejin felt his heart stutter in his chest. He hadn't expected Joo to get it — to understand without having to say a word. It was terrifying, the way Joo seemed to read him like an open book.

"You think I don't know how you feel?" Joo's voice was a little sharper now, though still tinged with that warm softness Sejin couldn't quite ignore. "But you keep pushing me away, and it's... frustrating."

Sejin flinched, his breath quickening. "You don't get it. You don't—"

"Then make me get it," Joo cut him off, his words more forceful this time. "Tell me what's going on inside your head."

Sejin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His throat felt tight, constricted with all the things he wasn't ready to say. But Joo's gaze was steady, unflinching, and somehow that made it harder to look away.

"Joo..." Sejin finally whispered, voice barely audible. "I don't know what I want. I don't know what I'm supposed to feel."

Joo's hand reached out, his fingers brushing Sejin's arm. The touch was light, hesitant, but it sent a shock of warmth through Sejin's entire body. Joo didn't pull away. Instead, he moved closer, his face just inches from Sejin's now.

"You don't have to know right now," Joo murmured, his breath warm against Sejin's skin. "But I'm not going anywhere."

Sejin swallowed hard, the words stuck in his throat. For the first time in a long time, he felt the walls around him starting to crack. The fear, the uncertainty — it was all still there, but so was something else. Something deeper.

"You don't..." Sejin began, but the words trailed off. He felt himself leaning forward, drawn to Joo in a way he couldn't explain.

"I do," Joo said, his voice low, almost a whisper. "I do understand."

Before Sejin could say anything more, Joo closed the gap between them. His lips pressed softly against Sejin's forehead, a gentle, tentative kiss that made Sejin's heart race. It was the kind of kiss that spoke volumes without saying a word, the kind that shattered the distance between them.

Sejin's breath caught, his chest tightening as he closed his eyes. The warmth of Joo's touch lingered against his skin, and for the first time, he didn't feel so afraid of what was happening between them.

"I'm here," Joo murmured against Sejin's skin, his hand moving to rest gently on Sejin's waist. "I'm here for all of it."

The words settled into Sejin's heart, and for once, he didn't want to push them away.

The next morning, Sejin woke to find the dorm room still quiet. The light streaming through the window was soft, casting long shadows across the floor. Joo had left early again, but this time, there was no lingering ache in Sejin's chest.

He felt something different — lighter, as if the weight of all the unsaid words had finally been lifted. He wasn't sure where things would go from here, but for the first time in a long time, he wasn't afraid of finding out.