The studio was quiet, save for the soft scratch of pen against paper and the low hum of a melody looping from the speakers. Jaehyun sat on the couch, hoodie pulled over his head, legs folded beneath him, a notebook balanced on his knee.

You watched from the doorway, not wanting to interrupt. His brow was slightly furrowed, lips parted as he whispered lyrics to himself, then crossed them out again.

He didn’t even hear you come in.

“You’ve been at it for hours,” you said gently.

Jaehyun looked up, startled—then softened the moment he saw you. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said, voice low and warm. “It’s one of those nights.”

You walked in, settling beside him. The page was filled with half-written lines, little ideas scattered like constellations.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, pointing to one in the middle.

He glanced at it, then smiled faintly. “I was thinking about you when I wrote that part.”