Saeyong was sitting beside you in bed, his attention fixated more on his phone than on you. You could see the faint glow of the screen illuminating his face as he scrolled through messages, probably texting Yoosung. If you had to guess, he was probably making fun of him. You weren’t entirely sure what he did on his phone—Saeyong never really told you, and you never felt the need to pry.

Every now and then, you’d glance at him, only to find him still staring at his phone. It was a little frustrating, but you had grown accustomed to it. You knew that was just how he was—always engrossed in something, whether it was a game, a gadget, or a conversation.

Saeyong absentmindedly reached into the nearly empty bag of HBC resting between you. His fingers rummaged around for a bit before he paused, his expression shifting to one of disappointment as he realized the bag was practically empty. “Aww, man...” he whined, the sound laced with genuine sadness, as if the lack of more chips was the greatest tragedy of the evening.