Characters: Harua, EJ, Jo
Vibe: Reflective, comforting, late-night softness
Theme: Found family, quiet healing, and warmth in shared silence
Key Elements: Journaling, sleepy confessions, late-night bonding

*****
"You're the calm one. I'm the dramatic one."
*****

The dorm was quiet.

Not the usual playful quiet with whispered jokes and soft music — the real kind. The kind that only settled in after a long filming day, when the lights were low, feet were sore, and the only sounds were distant city traffic and the hum of the fridge.

Harua stared at the ceiling in his room, eyes dry but restless.

He tried closing his eyes.

Tried shifting.

Tried breathing slow.

But his brain was too loud and the world outside too still.

Eventually, he gave up and slipped out of bed, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands as he padded barefoot down the hallway.

He found EJ sitting in the living room, curled on one end of the couch, a soft reading light illuminating his open journal. A half-filled mug sat beside him, still faintly steaming.

Harua blinked. "You're still awake?"

EJ looked up and smiled — small, not startled.

"Couldn't sleep," he said softly, gesturing for Harua to sit.

Harua did.

The couch cushion dipped just slightly. The quiet wrapped around them like a blanket.

"What are you writing?" Harua asked after a while.

EJ tapped his pen against the edge of the page. "Just thoughts. Nothing fancy."

Harua hummed.

There was a pause. Then he said, "It's hard sometimes. Isn't it?"

EJ didn't ask what he meant. He just nodded once.

"Yeah."

Jo wandered in a few minutes later, rubbing his eyes and carrying a box of cookies and a water bottle tucked under his arm.

He stopped when he saw them. "Oh."

Harua blinked. "Can't sleep either?"

Jo nodded, hair a mess, eyes still heavy.

He flopped down next to Harua without a word, opened the cookie box, and offered it between them.

Harua took one. So did EJ.

None of them spoke for a while.

They just sat — three silhouettes under the soft light, sharing silence, sugar, and something unspoken.

It was Jo who broke the stillness first.

His voice was low, muffled around a bite of cookie.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm running to catch up with a version of myself that everyone else already sees."

Harua looked at him.

Jo's eyes were barely open, but there was no mistaking the truth in his voice.

EJ didn't speak right away. He closed his journal slowly and set it aside.

"I think we all feel that," he said. "Like we're always almost enough."

Harua looked down at his hands.

"I just... sometimes I wish people could see that I'm still learning. That I'm not always as calm as I look."

Jo mumbled, "You're the calm one. I'm the dramatic one."

"You're not dramatic," Harua said. "You're... sincere."

Jo blinked at him slowly. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all week."

EJ smiled. "Harua's good at that."

Harua flushed a little. "I'm not—"

"You are," Jo interrupted. "You always notice when we need a minute."

EJ added, "But you never say it out loud. You just... stay."

Harua didn't know what to do with that.

So he tucked his knees to his chest and hid a little in his sleeves.

Jo rested his head against Harua's shoulder — soft, barely leaning, like a sleepy cat testing if it's safe.

Harua stilled.

Then shifted slightly so Jo could get more comfortable.

EJ watched the movement, something soft flickering in his eyes.

He reached out and gently ruffled Harua's hair — barely more than a brush.

"You're doing well," he said. "Even when you don't feel like it."

Harua's throat tightened.

The quiet wrapped tighter around them.

But it wasn't heavy anymore.

It was warm.

Jo's voice came again, barely audible.

"Harua?"

"Yeah?"

"...I'm really glad it's you."

Harua blinked. "Me?"

"You. On stage next to me. Off stage. In the middle of the night when I can't sleep."

There was a pause. Then a soft snore.

Harua looked down.

Jo had fallen asleep — head still resting on his shoulder, cookie half-crushed in his hand.

He let out a breathless laugh. "Of course."

EJ chuckled too. "He does that."

"I think he meant it though," Harua said, quieter.

"I know he did."

They sat like that a little longer.

Jo asleep.

Harua wide awake, but calmer now.

EJ flipping gently through the pages of his journal.

The night had shifted.

It wasn't lonely anymore.

Just late.

And kind.

Eventually, EJ reached over and pulled a small throw blanket from the back of the couch, draping it across the both of them.

Harua blinked slowly, his own eyes starting to get heavier.

EJ offered one last sleepy smile.

"Rest, Harua."

Harua nodded.

Jo mumbled something in his sleep and tucked in closer.

And under soft lamplight, blue shadows, and the sound of a pen being capped — Harua finally closed his eyes.

The End.
(Because sometimes, the loudest kind of love is the quiet that says, "You're not alone.")