Pairing: Jo × Yuma
Trope: Accidental overnight / quiet romance / slow burn
Vibe: Warm, soft, and intimate — like turning the last page of your favorite book

*****
"At least we're locked in somewhere warm."
"Could've been worse. Like the gym storage closet."
*****

Jo first realized something was wrong when he checked the clock.

7:02 p.m.

The library lights flickered once. Then dimmed completely.

He glanced up from his notebook, blinking. "...That's weird."

Across from him, Yuma stretched, arms over his head, headphones still in.

"Did you say something?" he asked, pulling out one earbud.

Jo stood slowly. "Yeah. I think they... turned the lights off?"

Yuma frowned. "Didn't they close at seven?"

Jo froze.

Yuma froze.

They looked at each other.

"...No way," Jo whispered.

Yuma grabbed his phone, checked the time, and hissed. "They definitely closed at seven."

Jo walked toward the front entrance.

Tried the doors.

Locked.

Dead silent.

Yuma joined him and jiggled the handle. "Okay, um—"

Jo blinked. "We're locked in?"

Yuma exhaled. "We're locked in."

The library was too quiet without the hum of students and distant printers.

It was warm, dimly lit by emergency hallway lights and the soft glow of desk lamps left on at the back.

They wandered down the aisles like explorers in a paper-and-dust jungle.

"This feels like a dream," Yuma said, brushing his fingers across a row of classic novels.

"A weird one," Jo murmured, trailing just behind.

They passed the fiction section, the study cubicles, a forgotten water bottle on a windowsill.

Jo found a bean bag chair in the corner and dropped onto it with a sigh. "At least we're locked in somewhere warm."

Yuma laughed and sat beside him, back against the bookshelf. "Could've been worse. Like the gym storage closet."

Jo groaned. "Don't remind me."

Yuma offered an earbud without a word.

Jo hesitated, then took it.

A soft, indie guitar track filtered in. Calm and melodic.

They sat like that for a while — just breathing in sync, sharing a soundtrack made for silence.

An hour passed.

They found a poetry book abandoned on a side table. Jo picked it up, thumbed through it absentmindedly.

"Want me to read something?" he asked quietly.

Yuma nodded. "Yeah. I like your voice."

Jo's breath caught, but he flipped a page.

His voice was low, steady.

"The world was quiet here,
But you made it softer still.
I forgot I was lonely."

Yuma closed his eyes as Jo read on.

And when he stopped, they both stayed still — caught in a comfortable pause, too full to speak.

It was only when Jo leaned back, eyes scanning the shelves lazily, that Yuma spoke again.

His voice was soft. Almost shy.

"You're my favorite story."

Jo blinked.

"...What?"

Yuma didn't look at him. Just fiddled with the corner of his hoodie sleeve.

"I mean..." he shrugged. "I've read a lot of books. Stories. Fiction. Drama. Happy endings. But you — you're kind of... my favorite one to see unfold."

Jo's heart hit the brakes.

Then accelerated.

"You weren't supposed to say that so casually," he whispered.

Yuma chuckled. "Didn't plan to. Just... felt right."

Jo turned toward him. Really looked at him. The soft way the lamplight caught his features. The peacefulness in his expression. The vulnerability in his words.

"...Can I tell you something, too?"

Yuma nodded.

"You make silence feel like music."

Yuma smiled. "That might be the most Jo thing you've ever said."

They both laughed quietly.

And neither one moved away.

By the time security found them the next morning — curled up against the bean bag chairs with poetry books scattered around them — they'd dozed off.

Still sharing a single pair of earbuds.

The group chat exploded later.

Nicholas: YOU GOT LOCKED IN A LIBRARY??
Taki: ROMANTIC COMA
Harua: Tell me there was a kiss. Please. I need to live through you.
EJ: Were you at least reading educational content.
K: ...Yuma called you his favorite story? Jo, explain. Immediately.
Fuma: I'm printing that on a T-shirt.

Jo responded with a single photo:
Him and Yuma, still sitting in the library corner — the juice box Yuma snuck from his bag sitting between them — and their heads resting against each other.

Caption:

The library had a better ending than expected.

The End.
(And maybe the beginning of a new favorite chapter.)