soobin had always been alone.

not in the sense that he had no one around him. his world wasn't empty in the literal way. there were always people. always voices. the distant hum of classmates talking, the murmur of teachers lecturing, the occasional sound of his own name being called, though never with much weight behind it.

but it never really mattered.

because no one ever really saw  him.

they acknowledged him, sure. they glanced at him, passed by him, made the necessary small talk when required. but it was all just noise. meaningless words filling the silence. he never truly connected with anyone, and after a while, he stopped trying.

soobin had learned that loneliness wasn't just about being alone. it was about feeling like you could be surrounded by people and still be isolated, locked inside a space no one else could reach.

so he stopped expecting. stopped hoping. he let himself exist in the background, drifting through life like a ghost.

and then, one day, yeonjun happened.

yeonjun had always been good at reading people.

he could pick up on things most people missed. the way someone's fingers twitched when they were nervous, the slight shifts in tone when they were lying, the way a person's presence could feel heavy, even if they weren't saying a word.

soobin was like that.

quiet, unassuming. but there was something about him that felt weighted. like he was carrying something no one else could see.

yeonjun noticed him before he ever spoke to him.

he noticed the way soobin always sat in the back of the classroom, close to the window but never looking outside, like even the world beyond the glass wasn't enough to hold his attention. he noticed the way he never lingered in groups, always moving just outside the edges, always keeping himself apart.

it wasn't shyness. it wasn't awkwardness. it was something deeper.

yeonjun was the kind of person who needed answers. and soobin was a question he wanted to solve.

so he started trying.

DAY ONE.

the first time yeonjun talked to him, soobin barely reacted.

"hey," yeonjun had said, sliding into the seat beside him.

soobin glanced up. blinked once. looked away. that was it. no acknowledgment, no irritation, no interest. just... nothing. but yeonjun wasn't the type to give up easily. he tried again. and again. little things, casual comments, questions that didn't need real answers.

DAY TWO - SEVEN.

"soobin, right?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ "you always sit here?"

"you ever wonder if our math teacher hates us?"

most of the time, he got a shrug. sometimes, a glance. but never more than that.

yet, soobin never told him to go away.

yeonjun considered that progress.

he was patient.

DAY EIGHT.

he waited for soobin to get used to him, to stop bracing for the moment he would lose interest and leave like everyone else seemed to. and eventually, soobin started answering. not much. not in a way that anyone else would notice. but to yeonjun, it was enough.

DAY NINE.

"you're kind of weird, you know that?" yeonjun said one afternoon, sitting beside soobin at lunch.

soobin barely glanced at him. "you say that like you're not weirder."

yeonjun grinned. finally. "fair," he admitted. "but at least i'm weird in an interesting way."

"you think i'm not interesting?"

"no," yeonjun said simply, meeting his eyes. "i think you're trying not to be."

he didn't miss the way soobin's fingers curled slightly around his water bottle. for a second, yeonjun thought he had pushed too much. but then soobin exhaled, shaking his head.

"you're annoying."

yeonjun beamed. "and yet, you're still talking to me." 

soobin huffed. but this time, yeonjun saw it—the way his lips twitched, like he was fighting back something small and warm. progress. yeonjun had a way of closing distances without you even realizing it.

DAY FOURTEEN.

one day, soobin was alone. the next, yeonjun was just there.

he waited for him after class without asking if he wanted company. he slid into the seat beside him like it was his spot, like it had always been that way. he threw him snacks and didn't wait for a thank you.

at first, soobin thought it would be overwhelming. but it wasn't. it was steady. constant. safe. soobin had never had someone like that before.

DAY TWENTY-SIX.

one night, they were lying on the rooftop of yeonjun's house, staring at the stars. the air was cool, crisp, the kind of quiet that made it easy to speak.

soobin broke it first.

"do you ever feel like something's missing?"

yeonjun turned his head to look at him. "what do you mean?"

soobin hesitated. "like..." he swallowed. "like there's this empty space inside you. like you're just walking around with this hole in your chest, and nothing ever really fills it."

yeonjun didn't answer immediately. for a while, there was only the sound of the wind, the distant hum of the city below.

then, softly, he said, "yeah. i used to."

soobin turned his head, eyes meeting his. "used to?"

yeonjun smiled, small, thoughtful. "sometimes, you find things—people—that make it less empty."

something inside soobin ached. he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all.

DAY FORTYFOUR.

he didn't realize that everything changed.

didn't notice when the silence of his days no longer felt suffocating, because yeonjun was filling it. didn't notice when he started looking forward to things—class, lunch, walking home—just because yeonjun would be there.

DAY SIXTY - SIXTYFIVE

but he did notice when yeonjun wasn't. when yeonjun got sick one week and didn't come to school, soobin thought it wouldn't matter.

but the first day felt off.
the second day, he felt restless.
the third day, he caught himself glancing at yeonjun's empty seat too many times.
by the fourth day, he had stopped lying to himself. it mattered. yeonjun mattered.

DAY SIXTYSIX

"you look like shit," yeonjun croaked when he opened his door to find soobin standing there, hoodie drawn up over his head.

soobin rolled his eyes and shoved a bag of honey lemon tea into his hands. "you're the one who's sick."

yeonjun grinned, stepping back to let him in. "aw, you missed me."

"shut up."

but he didn't deny it. and yeonjun didn't tease him for it.

DAY SIXTYSEVEN - NINETYNINE

things were different after that.

subtly, in ways only they would notice. soobin leaned in more. didn't hesitate when yeonjun pulled him along. didn't pull away when yeonjun threw an arm over his shoulder or linked their arms just to be annoying.

for the first time in a long time, soobin felt alive.

DAY ONE HUNDRED.

one evening, they were sitting on the floor of soobin's room, music playing softly in the background.

"hey," yeonjun said suddenly.

soobin hummed in acknowledgment.

yeonjun hesitated, then said, quieter, "i'm glad you're here."

soobin looked at him. really looked at him. yeonjun, who had been the only constant thing in his life these past months. yeonjun, who had somehow filled the spaces soobin never thought could be filled. 

something lodged itself in soobin's throat. he didn't know how to say it, so he didn't.

instead, he leaned in, hesitating for only a second before pressing a chaste, lingering kiss to yeonjun's cheek. not anything more than what it was. but something. 

yeonjun blinked, clearly caught off guard, but then he laughed—soft, breathy. "wow," he said, grinning. "you really do like me."

soobin huffed, shoving at his shoulder. "shut up."

yeonjun just laughed harder. soobin rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

and for the first time in a long, long time, he felt full.