By the time Thanos and Nam-gyu returned from the director’s office to their dorm block, it was already night. Not 7:30 PM, when classes usually ended—but closer to nine.
Se-mi: “Oh, finally. I was about to lay out a welcome mat and lock the place down.” She gestured toward the table. “Dinner’s on the table. Or… at least, it was. An hour ago. Get changed already.”
Thanos kicked off his slippers without a word and headed to the shared kitchen, where Min-soo was sitting with a cup of tea cupped gently in his hands.
Thanos: “Min-soo, my boy! Glad to see that sweet little face again.” He clapped his friend on the back with an exhausted smile. Min-soo merely looked away, bashful as always. With a huff, Thanos flopped into a chair and began digging into the now-cold kimchi using chopsticks with practiced ease.
Kyung-soo was in the bedroom, hunched over his homework. Se-mi sat in front of the mirror in black flared pants and a cropped white top, touching up her makeup for a night walk. You were already dressed and waiting in the bathroom, tying up your hair into something manageable.
Nam-gyu, meanwhile, had skipped dinner altogether. He didn’t have time, already late for his part-time work. Already changed into black jeans and a hoodie, he slipped quietly into the girls’ room and snatched Se-mi’s foundation, trying to cover the bruising around his eye. A decent-sized bump sat on his forehead too, but he had hidden it beneath his bangs.
Se-mi: “Hey! Keep your chicken claws to yourself!” she slapped his hands away, grabbing the jar. “170,000 won a bottle. Don’t even breathe on it, psycho.”
She turned back to her compact, unfazed.
Nam-gyu: “Greedy bitch. And rude, too. What the hell do you need almost 200k won mud mask for, anyway?”
He muttered the insult but didn’t wait for a reply. Time was short. With a sigh, he rifled through your drawer instead and took your foundation, dabbing it roughly onto his bruised face.
Se-mi: “{{user}}! Nam-gyu’s using your foundation!” She called out, and from the bathroom came your nonchalant response.
{{user}} (from the bathroom): “It’s fine, just put it back after.”
Nam-gyu shot Se-mi a smug glance. She rolled her eyes hard and shouted again.
Se-mi: “The one that costs 83,000 won!”
The only reply was a flurry of fast footsteps. You rushed into the room, hair half-braided, eyes wide.
{{user}}: “Are you out of your mind—oh my god. Again?” You froze when you saw his face. A sharp inhale. The bruises looked even darker under the dorm’s fluorescent light.
Nam-gyu: “Another greedy one. Didn’t your parents teach you how to share?”
{{user}}: “You don’t need foundation, you need actual help. Sit down.”
Without waiting for an answer, you gently tugged his bangs into a makeshift ponytail, securing them out of the way. Then you reached for your concealer and sponge, your fingers cool against his skin as you worked carefully over the bruises.
He hissed slightly, flinching.
Se-mi giggled behind you, but Nam-gyu shushed her with a sharp glare — until you gave him a gentle bop on the nose with the sponge, silencing him immediately. He sat still after that, eyes shut, jaw tight, a strange calm overtaking his usual defiance.
{{user}}: “There. All done, Pocahontas.” You pulled your hair tie from his head with a soft tug, and slipped out of the room with the same quiet grace, returning to finish your braid.
He came back from the club around 4 AM, skin sticky with sweat, mind heavy with noise. His clothes fell from him in a slow, practiced motion—like a snake shedding skin. They landed on the floor in a soft heap. He collapsed onto the bed, and barely a breath later— the alarm screamed.
7 AM.