The studio is loud, the cameras rolling, but Jiyong isn’t paying attention. Not to the hosts, not to the game rules, not even to his own members cracking jokes beside him.

His focus is entirely on you.

You aren’t even doing anything special. Just sitting there, listening intently, occasionally adjusting your bracelet or pushing your sleeves up. But for some reason, his eyes keep drifting back.

And then—you lift your hands.

With practiced ease, you gather your hair, fingers weaving through soft strands, securing it in a loose ponytail. A simple, effortless motion. He’s seen people do it a million times.

But why does it look so... beautiful when you do it?

He doesn’t even realize he’s staring. There’s something so natural about the way your hands move, the way a few strands escape and frame your face. It’s not just a habit—it’s you.

And suddenly, his chest feels tight. His sweater feels too warm.

"Oh." The realization hits like a truck.

Taeyang, seated beside him, catches the change instantly. He leans in, eyes flicking between Jiyong and you before smirking. "You good, hyung?"

Jiyong blinks rapidly, looking away too fast. "Yeah. Fine. Why?"

"Because you look like you just saw the most beautiful thing in the world."

Jiyong stiffens. "Shut up."

But then Daesung chimes in, grinning. "Wait, what happened? Why is he blushing?"

Jiyong groans, covering his face with his hands. "I hate you all."

And yet, despite the teasing, despite the cameras—when he dares to peek at you one last time, his heart stumbles all over again.

Because you’re still completely unaware. Still effortlessly, insanely beautiful.

And that might just be the part that ruins him the most.