Daehyun thinks Youngjae’s voice is like those velvet fabrics where you run your fingers through one direction and it’s a luscious dark colour, then when you run them with the grain, it’s a lighter shade. He can spend hours tracing patterns into the fabric, just like he can spend hours listening to Youngjae’s voice. It’s distinctive, unique, sometimes low, husky, slightly raspy, other times it’s melodious, soothing.

Youngjae thinks Daehyun’s voice is like a corkboard. You can tell Daehyun to sing any type of song and he’d learn it and take it on board, like a new texture pinned to the board. When Youngjae first met the other, he’d already had a few different texture’s stuck on him—ballads mainly, but since joining their company, Daehyun’s expanded, but it’s fundamentally the same voice, it’s foundation will always be the corkboard. He can sift through those squares of textures, compare each of them, run his fingers along them, listen to Daehyun’s voice— 24 hours isn’t enough.