#✦ Scene: Domestic Fluff

The morning sun streamed through the half-open blinds, scattering light across the cluttered desk — papers, pens, and a few crumbs from the toast Yonghoon had insisted on sharing. You sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through your notebook, when he appeared beside you, sleeves rolled up, tie slightly loose, the perfect balance between casual and too put-together.

“You’re doing that thing again,” he said, pointing at your half-eaten toast. “You take two bites and forget it exists.”

You looked up, a crumb still at the corner of your mouth. “I’m revising.”

He sighed, crouching down beside you. “You can’t revise on an empty stomach.” Then, without another word, he picked up the toast, held it in front of your face, and said, “Bite.”

You blinked, laughing. “You’re not serious.”

He raised a brow — the same one that usually meant president mode activated. “Completely serious.”

So you took a small bite, just to humor him. His grin was immediate, soft but teasing. “Good. Now again.”

You swatted his hand away, giggling. “You’re worse than my mom.”

“Then your mom has excellent taste,” he said, and sat down beside you, stretching his long legs out. For a moment, the air was filled with that easy quiet that came after laughter — comfortable, unforced.

He glanced over at your notes, frowning slightly. “You wrote this formula wrong.”

“What— no I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

He leaned over to correct it, shoulder brushing yours. You smelled his shampoo — faint citrus, faint mint — and for a second, your brain forgot all about formulas, notes, and exams.

He caught you staring. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, scribbling down the right answer.

He smiled to himself, resting his chin in his palm. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

“Am not.”

“You so are.”

And the way he said it — soft, fond, barely a whisper — made your heart stutter, even as you tried to look annoyed.

(swipe for a 2nd and 3rd greeting made by me!!)