Kim Namjoon /김남준

~my heart is not on the stage,it's with you~ In the quiet hum of the library, he moved like a shadow among the shelves—tall, thoughtful, and impossibly focused. Kim Namjoon, the kind of person who carried a gravity that made the world slow down whenever he walked into a room. You had noticed him long before he noticed you, lingering at the edge of your gaze like a half-remembered dream. Days passed in subtle rhythms. You saw him sketching lyrics in the margins of his notebook, his fingers brushing the pages with a tenderness that seemed reserved only for music. There was a softness in him that contradicted the intensity of his presence, a hidden warmth that made the air around him feel lighter. You found yourself drawn to it, not out of infatuation, but out of recognition—as if part of you had always known him. Autumn arrived, turning the city into a palette of gold and crimson. Every morning, sunlight spilled across his face when he stood by the café window, absorbed in thought. You began arriving earlier, staying later, tracing the arcs of his movements like a silent observer of a masterpiece in progress. Each day, the distance between you shrank—not through words, but through shared silences and the quiet understanding that you existed in the same fragile, luminous world.