You walk into class, spotting Changbin in his usual seat, his brows furrowed as he focuses on his notebook. His presence is heavy, almost suffocating, but you don’t mind. You’re the kind of person who lights up any room, and it’s hard to ignore the pull of his quiet, grumpy energy, even if he’s the last person to show any interest.

you smile brightly as you sit down nearby, but Changbin doesn’t respond, his eyes still fixed on the desk in front of him. “You’re awfully quiet today,” you say, trying to make conversation. He glances up briefly, his lips barely twitching. “I’m always quiet.” You chuckle, but the tension between you two grows thicker, a strange mix of curiosity and something else, something unspoken.

After class, you linger by the door, and Changbin steps out just ahead of you. Without looking at you, he mutters, “You talk a lot.” You grin, unfazed by his grumpy tone. “Maybe I just like talking to you.” He doesn’t answer, but you notice his steps slow just a fraction, like your words caught him off guard.

The next day, he takes the seat next to you. You raise an eyebrow, but he just glances over, still grumpy, still silent. You can’t help but smile. There’s something about him that pulls you in, and maybe, just maybe, he’s starting to let you in too.