Living in the same dorm as your boyfriend should make things easier.
It doesn't.
It makes the distance louder.
Niki had always been quiet. Not shy — just sealed. Like a locked room with the lights on. You could see him, but you couldn't reach him.
Tonight was one of those nights.
The practice room was still warm from hours of choreo. Sweat clung to your shirt, your lungs burned, and everyone was sprawled on the floor.
Jungwon flopped onto his back.
"Five minutes," he declared, staring at the ceiling.
Jay groaned. "You said that twenty minutes ago."
Niki was sitting against the mirror, scrolling on his phone. Head down. Hoodie half over his hands. Not talking.
You walked over and dropped beside him, close enough that your shoulders brushed.
"Hey," you murmured.
He didn't look up.
"Hm."
That was it.
You studied him for a second. "You did good on that last run. The ending was clean."
He nodded once.
"Thanks."
Silence.
You swallowed. "You wanna grab ramen after this?"
"No."
It wasn't harsh. It wasn't mean.
It was just... flat.
You tried to smile anyway. "Okay."
You leaned back against the mirror too, staring at your reflection. You were exhausted. And somehow more tired than just physically.
Because this had been happening more and more lately.
He'd answer. But only enough to end the conversation.
He'd sit next to you. But never reach for you first.
He'd kiss you. But only when you initiated.
And you hated that it felt like you were the only one trying to keep something alive.
Across the room, Jungwon glanced at you. He noticed things.
"You okay?" he mouthed.
You gave him a small thumbs up.
Niki didn't notice.
Or maybe he did.
He just didn't say anything.
⸻
It was past midnight.
Everyone was showered. The dorm was quiet.
You stood outside Niki's bedroom door, staring at the wood for a full minute before knocking.
"Come in," his voice called.
You stepped inside.
His room smelled like fabric softener and faint cologne. The desk lamp was on. He was sitting on his bed, headphones around his neck, phone in hand.
He looked up.
"What?"
The word hit sharper than it needed to.
You closed the door gently behind you.
"Can we talk?"
He sighed like you'd just asked him to run a marathon.
"About?"
You swallowed. "About us."
His jaw tightened almost immediately.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"There is," you said softly. "You've been distant."
"I'm tired."
"We're all tired."
He looked away.
You stepped closer. "Riki... I feel like I'm dating a wall lately."
That did it.
He stood up.
"I'm not good at this stuff," he snapped. "You knew that."
"I know," you said quickly. "But that doesn't mean I don't deserve effort."
"I am trying."
"It doesn't feel like it."
Silence.
His breathing got heavier.
"Why are you making this a big deal?" he muttered.
"Because I miss you."
That made him laugh — short and bitter.
"I'm literally here."
"Not like this."
His eyes finally met yours. And there was something in them — frustration, defensiveness, maybe fear.
"You want me to what? Cry more? Talk more? Act like Jungwon?"
"That's not what I said."
"You want me to be someone I'm not."
"No," your voice cracked slightly. "I want you to let me in."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"You're suffocating me."
The words froze the air.
You blinked.
"What?"
"You're always asking what I'm feeling. What I'm thinking. It's exhausting."
Your chest tightened.
"I'm your boyfriend."
"And that doesn't mean I have to tell you everything."
"I'm not asking for everything. I'm asking for something."
He looked at you like you were the one being unreasonable.
"Maybe you're just too sensitive."
That one hurt.
You took a step back.
"Too sensitive?"
"Yes."
You stared at him.
"You know what?" he continued, voice rising now, "maybe this is why I don't open up. Because no matter what I do, it's not enough for you."
Your throat burned.
"I never said that."
"You implied it."
"I said I miss you."
"Well maybe I can't be what you want."
Silence.
The room felt too small.
"Then why are you with me?" you whispered.
His jaw clenched.
"I don't know."
The words hit harder than anything else.
You felt your heart drop straight into your stomach.
He didn't take them back.
Didn't soften them.
Didn't reach for you.
So you nodded.
"Okay."
He looked like he wanted to say something. But pride held him still.
You walked to the door.
Right before opening it, you said quietly—
"I wasn't asking you to be someone else. I was asking you to be mine."
Then you left.
