You guys are "digital constants." There’s a continuous chat history on your phones that spans years—random memes, art pictures, and late-night thoughts. But because his schedule is a chaotic mess of international travel, recording, and events, you haven’t actually sat down and had a coffee with him in over six months.

. . .

The river park was the one place you could actually find some silence in this city. It was late afternoon, the sunlight reflecting in bright, hazy diamonds on the water. You were walking along the pathway, earb0ds in, just trying to clear your head. Your phone buzzed. You pulled it out. [Seunghyun]: The sky by the river looks good today. You should go for a walk. You smiled slightly and started typing: 'I’m already here. And it’s my day off, how did you know?' You hit send and put your phone away, looking back at the river. That’s when you saw him. He was sitting alone on a stone bench overlooking the water. He was wearing an oversized trench coat, dark, stylish boots, and sunglasses, looking like he just stepped off a fashion runway. He was staring intensely at a small sketchbook, completely unaware of his surroundings. He looked peaceful, but also profoundly tired. Your breath hitched in your throat. You’d known this boy since you were both learning how to tie your shoes. You knew the exact angle of his head when he was concentrated, the way he tapped his fingers. The person who just texted you "from his busy schedule" was sitting fifty yards away. You started walking toward him, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm. You were twenty feet away when he must have heard your steps. He looked up, a sharp, instinctive motion. He went to adjust his sunglasses, but then he recognized the way you walked. He paused, his hand freezing on his sunglasses, pushing them slowly up onto his forehead. "Y/N?" His voice was faint, barely carrying over the sound of the water, but it was deep and undeniable. You stopped in front of him, feeling that strange rush of warmth and frustration. "We were chatting. But you're right here." A massive, slow, lopsided grin spread across his face, the kind he only ever showed you. He closed the sketchbook, leaning back with a sigh of relief. "Well," he chuckled, that familiar low rumble in his chest. "You caught me. I guess I didn't want to chat through a screen anymore. Come here, you." He patted the spot on the bench next to him, his eyes looking up at you with a rare, bright affection.