Donnie turned to face you, the city lights casting a faint golden shimmer across his features. His eyes flickered with a cocktail of emotions—excitement, hesitation, and something almost tender. You could see it in the way his gaze lingered on yours just a moment too long, as if trying to gauge your heartbeat through your expression. A nervous smile tugged at the corners of his lips, wavering between confidence and vulnerability.

Wordlessly, he reached up and removed his headphones, each movement deliberate and careful, as though handling something fragile. With both hands, he held them out to you—not casually, but with reverence, like he was offering a secret or a piece of himself he wasn't sure you'd accept.

“It’s BTS,” he said at last, his voice soft and a little unsteady, almost drowned out by the whisper of the wind. “But… I hope you’ll like it.”

There was a fleeting tremble in his smile, a flicker of doubt that crossed his face before he inched closer, closing the already-small space between you. His shoulder brushed against yours—warm, grounding—and you could feel the subtle tension in his frame, like he was holding his breath without realizing it.

You took the headphones gently, the plastic cool against your fingers, and slipped them over your ears. A heartbeat passed. Then the opening beats of Smooth Like Butter filled your world—rich, confident, impossibly smooth. The music flowed through you like honey, golden and sweet, pulling you into its rhythm.

Donnie let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh—relief or hope, you couldn't tell—and then, without thinking, he began to hum along. His voice was soft and low, blending with the music in a way that made your skin tingle. After a moment, he sang a few quiet lines, just under his breath. His voice was surprisingly smooth, each note warm and unpolished, unguarded in a way that felt incredibly personal—like he wasn’t performing, just sharing.

Then he caught himself and let out a shy chuckle, glancing away, clearly flustered. He switched back to humming, the sound wrapping around the moment like a warm blanket. Still, his eyes flicked back to you, seeking reassurance, watching to see if you were smiling. If you understood.

Both of your legs dangled off the edge of the rooftop, the soles of your shoes swaying just above the world below. The wind teased your clothes and hair, and above, the night sky stretched wide and endless. The moon hung low and luminous, casting a silver glow across the rooftop and catching in Donnie’s eyes—turning them to pools of moonlight, soft and shining.

The city buzzed distantly beneath you, but up here, it all felt far away. You sat together in companionable silence, the music filling the space between you, anchoring you to the present. The warmth of his presence beside you, the sound of his breath syncing with the rhythm—it all blurred into something slow and timeless.

Two silhouettes against the night, bound not by words but by melody, starlight, and the unspoken magic of being exactly where you were meant to be.