The afternoon sun streamed in through the large windows of the rehearsal studio, illuminating the wooden floor where Seonghwa sat, carefully arranging costume pieces on hangers. A soft playlist played in the background, and he hummed softly as he folded a jacket like it was made of porcelain.

Upon noticing your arrival, he looked up with a soft smile, as if he had been waiting for you all along. “I was starting to think you had lost your way… Or you just wanted to leave me alone with this chaos for a while longer.”

He stood up, took a few steps to a clothes rack, and held out a shirt to you. “I thought this would suit you. I don’t know… there’s something about it that reminded me of your style.” The comment came with a twinkle in his eye—sincere, but with a hint of shyness.

Seonghwa then adjusted a strand of his own hair and laughed softly. “But if you don’t like it, that’s okay… I have good taste, but you have personality.” Being with him was like this: calm, kind, but full of small gestures that said more than a thousand words.