all the little things – PART 1
background :: Juhoon has spent years quietly noticing his best friend’s sister without ever realizing how much space she takes up in his thoughts.
lee’s note :: AHHH this series is making my heart flutter hehehehehehehehhbe… anyways i love this idea MUWAHAHAHAH you guys arent ready for this one w/ luv, THROUGHYRS
Juhoon didn’t think it was possible to like someone quietly for so long without it becoming obvious.
Apparently, he had been wrong.
Or maybe he was just good at hiding it.
That was what he kept telling himself anyway.
It started the way most things did for him without intention.
You were just Keonho’s younger sister. Someone who existed on the edges of every hangout, always present but never demanding attention. While the rest of the group filled rooms with noise, you tended to occupy silence instead. A book in your lap, a pen between your fingers, or your eyes half-focused on conversations you didn’t always join.
At first, Juhoon didn’t think much of it.
He noticed, of course. He noticed everything.
But noticing wasn’t the same as caring.
At least, that was what he thought.
Then came the small things.
The kind that didn’t feel important until they stacked up.
You always curled your sleeves over your hands when you were thinking too hard.
You always chose the same corner of the couch, even when it was already taken and you had to awkwardly squeeze in anyway.
You always laughed quietly first, like you were testing whether it was okay to laugh at all.
And then there was your smile.
Or rather, the way you tried not to show it.
Especially when it was something genuinely funny. Your hand would immediately rise to cover your mouth, even if the laughter had already slipped out. It was like a reflex. Like you were hiding something you weren’t supposed to let people see.
He also never understood why it bothered him.
Just… in a way that lingered.
That afternoon, the group had gathered at Keonho’s house like they always did when they had nothing better to do. Which, lately, was often.
Martin was lying upside down on the couch, complaining about something no one was listening to. James was laughing at him anyway. Keonho looked tired in a way that suggested he had been dealing with them for too long, and Seonghyeon sat slightly apart from the chaos, phone in hand, barely reacting to anything happening around him.
Sitting in the armchair near the window.
Juhoon wasn’t even sure when he started looking at you more than the others.
It was just that your presence didn’t demand anything from him. He didn’t have to perform or keep up or fill silence with noise. You were quiet in a way that felt familiar, almost comforting.
And then he kept looking.
The moment James accidentally smacked himself in the face with a pillow, the room exploded into laughter. Even Keonho cracked a smile. Juhoon barely reacted, but when he glanced over, he saw you.
Quietly, almost like you hadn’t meant to.
And then your hand immediately covered your mouth, like it always did.
But Juhoon had already seen it.
The small dip in your cheeks.
The way your eyes softened when you found something funny.
It was gone in less than a second, hidden behind your fingers and the edge of your book.
Still, Juhoon felt something settle in his chest that he didn’t have a name for.
“Why are you staring at the same page like that?”
Keonho’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Juhoon blinked and looked down at the magazine in his hands.
Across the room, Martin noticed immediately.
“Oh?” he said, sitting up like he had just been given entertainment. “Oh?”
“No,” Juhoon said quickly.
“Oh, this is interesting,” James added, grinning now.
“It’s not,” Juhoon muttered.
Martin pointed across the room, far too dramatically for the situation. “I think Juhoon has a crush.”
The room went silent for half a second.
Juhoon felt his entire soul leave his body.
“What?” he said, too fast.
Martin didn’t hesitate. His finger shifted.
Juhoon’s stomach dropped so hard it felt physical.
Because now everyone was looking.
You had just lifted your head from your book, eyes flicking between Martin and Juhoon with mild confusion, like you were trying to figure out whether this was real or another one of Martin’s episodes.
Martin, of course, took that as confirmation.
“No,” Juhoon said at the same time, which unfortunately sounded less convincing than he wanted.
James leaned forward like he was watching a live show. Keonho groaned, already tired of this conversation before it even finished.
But Juhoon wasn’t looking at them anymore.
And for a second, something strange happened.
You didn’t look embarrassed.
Like the situation wasn’t humiliating, just slightly ridiculous.
Juhoon saw it clearly this time.
And it made his chest tighten in a way he absolutely wasn’t prepared for.
Before he could process it further, you lowered your gaze back to your book, as if nothing had happened at all.
As if his entire world hadn’t just shifted slightly out of place.
That night, Juhoon’s phone was a disaster.
Because he didn’t have an answer that made sense.
Not one he wanted to type out loud.
So instead, he typed the only thing that felt even remotely true.
Juhoon frowned at the screen.
Martin immediately capitalized on it.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘HE DOES’?”
But Juhoon wasn’t reading anymore.
He was thinking about you again.
About the way you laughed earlier.
About the way you looked at him like he wasn’t scary or strange or anything at all.
And for the first time, that felt like enough.
But enough to make him want to keep noticing.
Even if it ruined him later.
Juhoon told himself he would stop thinking about it the next day.
That was his first mistake.
Because the problem with moments like that wasn’t that they were loud or dramatic. It was that they were small enough to replay in his head without permission. The way you had looked up at him. The way you didn’t seem embarrassed. The way you smiled like it wasn’t something you were trying to hide for once.
He kept seeing it in fragments between classes, between practice, between everything else he was supposed to be focusing on.
Definitely the situation.
By the time he ended up at Keonho’s house again that weekend, he had almost convinced himself he was normal about it.
The second he stepped inside, the usual chaos hit him like a wall. Martin was already arguing about something stupid, James was laughing at him, and Keonho looked like he was one bad comment away from losing his patience completely. Seonghyeon was there too, sitting slightly apart from everyone else like he always did, phone in hand, expression unreadable.
You were sitting on the floor this time instead of the armchair, knees tucked to your chest, a book open in your lap. Your hair was slightly messy, like you had been running your fingers through it without realizing. You didn’t look up right away when he walked in, but when you did, it was brief.
Juhoon stood there for a second longer than necessary before Keonho finally called him over. He moved, but his attention stayed split the entire time. Every few minutes, without meaning to, his eyes drifted back to where you were sitting.
He told himself it was normal.
But then James made a joke so bad that even Martin paused, and you let out that quiet laugh again. The kind you tried to swallow immediately after it happened. Your hand came up automatically, like it always did, covering your mouth before anyone could really see it.
Except Juhoon had already seen it.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
He realized Keonho was watching him only when his friend spoke up.
Juhoon blinked. “Doing what?”
Keonho didn’t answer right away. He just looked between Juhoon and you for a second, like he was putting pieces together that Juhoon really didn’t want him to find.
“Nothing,” Keonho finally said, but his tone made it clear he didn’t believe that.
Across the room, Martin suddenly sat up like he had been waiting for exactly this moment.
“Oh no,” he said slowly, “don’t tell me—”
“Don’t,” Juhoon warned immediately.
But Martin was already smiling.
Martin pointed lazily across the room. “He’s staring again.”
This time, Juhoon actually felt his ears go warm.
And worse, you had noticed.
You weren’t looking at him directly, but your attention had shifted slightly, like you could feel the direction of his gaze even if you weren’t acknowledging it out loud. Your fingers tightened around the edge of your book.
And for the second time that week, your eyes met his.
He expected you to look away quickly like usual.
Instead, you just looked at him for a second longer than normal, expression unreadable in a way he couldn’t decode. Then, slowly, you lowered your gaze back to your book like nothing had happened at all.
But your hand stayed covering your mouth even though you weren’t laughing anymore.
Later that night, Martin’s
was exactly as unbearable as expected.
Juhoon stared at the screen for a moment, then set his phone down with more force than necessary.
He didn’t like how easily they all said it.
Like it was something simple.
It was just noticing things.
Still, even as he thought it, his mind drifted back to you again.
To the way you looked at him earlier.
Like you almost understood something.
Like you were also noticing things.
And for the first time, Juhoon wondered if he was the only one who had been quietly paying attention all this time.
Or if you had been doing the same thing without ever saying it out loud.
