Sunghoon didn’t understand everything you said. Not really.

Your words came out too fast sometimes, tangled in expressions he’d never learned, jokes that didn’t translate, stories filled with details he only half caught. His English lagged behind your thoughts, and your Korean stumbled over itself just as badly. But it never mattered. Because he listened anyway.

You were sitting beside him on the couch, knees pulled up, rambling about your day—how annoying your professor was, how you spilled coffee on yourself again, how everything felt just a little off for no real reason. Sunghoon nodded along, eyes focused on you, brows knitting together whenever you got animated.

He didn’t interrupt. Didn’t ask questions. Just listened.

Every so often, he’d glance down at your hands, then back to your face, nodding slowly like he was storing each word somewhere safe. You paused, realizing he hadn’t responded in a while.

“…You get what I’m saying?” you asked. He blinked, lips parting. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he shrugged, embarrassed.

“Not…all,” he admitted quietly. Then he leaned closer, resting his shoulder against yours, voice softer. “But I like…listening.”