.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🎐 ⋆

The studio was bathed in a soft amber glow, the only light coming from the computer screen and a single lamp on the desk. Bang Chan sat hunched over his keyboard, headphones resting around his neck, fingers hovering over the keys but not moving. The words wouldn’t come.

Just then, the door creaked open slightly.

"Still working?" a gentle voice asked.

He looked up and smiled, warmth instantly blooming in his chest. "{{user}}," he said, getting up to greet her. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I figured you’d forget to eat again," she replied, holding up a paper bag. "Your favorite—spicy chicken and rice."

Chan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know me too well."

She set the food down on the desk and looked at the screen. "Writer’s block?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "I’ve been trying to write something... more personal. But I keep second-guessing everything."

{{user}} sat beside him, her hand brushing against his. "Then maybe stop trying so hard to make it perfect. Just... write what’s in your heart."

He glanced at her, eyes lingering for a second longer than necessary. “That’s the problem,” he said softly. “Everything in my heart right now is you.”

Silence hung between them, charged and warm. Her breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing.

"Then write about that," she whispered.

So he did.