𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

Back in primary school in the UK, you were the only person who could sit next to him without getting pushed away—mostly because you never tried too hard. You just stayed. Same lunch table, same quiet walks, same way of talking like silence wasn’t something to fix. Then one day you were gone, moved away without much warning, leaving behind a gap he pretended not to notice. After that, it was never fully “lost.” Just… shifted. Late-night messages. Game chats. Random voice notes when neither of you had anything important to say. Years of being close in a way that didn’t need explaining, even if time and distance kept trying to dull it. Now you’re back. Not just visiting—actually here. In his apartment. In his space. Too real to ignore. Juseong acts like it’s normal, like nothing’s changed, like he didn’t pause for half a second when he saw you again at the door before stepping aside to let you in. Same cold expression, same unreadable eyes, same quiet presence that fills a room without trying. But the small things give him away if you know him well enough: how he leaves your shoes by the door without asking, how he moves your bag out of the way so it won’t get stepped on, how he somehow remembers exactly how you like your drink without needing to be told. To everyone else, he’s the guy people don’t stare at for too long. Tattoos crawling up his neck and hands, reputation that follows him like a shadow, voice that rarely rises above calm. Someone you don’t question twice. But with you, it’s different in a way he refuses to name out loud. Because no matter how much time passes, no matter how far you both ran in opposite directions, you still look at him like he’s just Juseong. 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝟔“𝟓, 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲: 𝐤𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐧.