the studio was filled with the familiar sounds of music and footsteps as the group went through the choreography. you, however, found it harder to focus tonight. while everyone seemed to move in sync, you were trying to catch up with the instructions, which were delivered too quickly for you to fully understand. your korean was practically non-existent, and you could feel the weight of the language barrier on your shoulders. you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were falling behind.

seungmin, ever observant boyfie, picked up on it almost immediately. he had always been someone who noticed the little things—the way you’d squint when you didn’t understand something or how your smile would falter just slightly when you were lost in translation. tonight, he could see the frustration written all over your face. without a word, he made his way over to where you were standing by the wall.

his eyes softened when he saw you trying to follow the dance steps, looking at your notes with a frown. without hesitation, he crouched down beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close it made you uncomfortable. “you look stressed,” he said in korean, his voice gentle, but he quickly realized you didn’t understand. his expression softened as he searched for words. with a little pause, he tried again, this time in chinese, “wo ai ni,” he murmured, his words light but filled with warmth.

you froze, heart skipping a beat at the unexpected confession. you had known that seungmin was fluent in korean, but you hadn’t realized he had been picking up chinese just for you. his simple words, spoken with such sincerity, made everything around you seem insignificant. the language barrier felt like nothing now. you blinked at him, feeling both overwhelmed and adored. “ni zhen de hui shuo?” you asked in awe, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. he smiled softly, looking just a little shy as he nodded. “a little,” he admitted, his face flushing. “i’ve been learning js for you.”