It was quiet and peaceful here.

The wind blew softly. She stared at her watch long, her mind already slowing down. It was almost midnight, and the coffee was already burning off from her system.

Dahyun put down her pen neatly amidst the mess of opened books, papers of notes and foolscap of illegible scrawls. Then inhaled deeply as she stretched.

Her lids opened to bask in the night. Many did not like this particular studying spot because it was on the top sixth floor and that it was semi-outdoor at the mercy of the swinging moods of the weather. And even now, Dahyun was alone. But she liked it here. She liked how the stadium lights were bright against the black sky, how the boisterous sounds from various activities below filled the silence. A haven far enough for her to be alone in her solitude but near enough that she did not have to fight from drowning in loneliness. She could do this every night.

The voices soon drowned out and minutes later the lights dimmed out. Practice had never run this late, and she never had to stay this late before but as the term ran along, there seemed to be more things to do. It was why she lost track of time. But the eery stillness reminded her of how late it already was. The few bulbs above her fought valiantly against the chill but it was quickly turning to be futile. Dahyun warred against returning to her dorm room, afraid that the temptation of bed and sleep would claim her. But staying would be pointless, the solitude was now making her restless, rendering her even more useless. A sudden gust of wind swept through the area and her skin prickled with goosebumps. That was it, Dahyun was packing up. She had spoken too soon: she could not do this. Not alone.

Just as the thought appeared, a figure emerged into view. She heard him rush up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. It was unwitting, but she had exhaled in relief. It reminded her of that first time he came when the silence was almost as haunting, and she almost left but did not. She had not bothered to scrutinize his person then, only knew that she had been glad he was there. Dahyun remembered thinking that she could stay a bit longer to wrap things up properly before calling it a night.

Then remembered the next night she had stayed when the lights turned off. She had held her breath, ready to leave. Again, he was moments later, and she had paced back into momentum. It might have been one-sided, but it felt as if they had settled into some sort of routine. He would walk in, every night, just minutes after the stadium lights went off, his footsteps light and quick. And when one packed up to leave, they would do so slowly as if to wait for the other to pack up too. By the end of the week, she had not faltered when the comforting buzz stilled or when the blackness swallowed the night. It had not consciously occurred to her that it was because she had started to expect his presence. The forlornness never managed to claim her before he was there to chase them away.

But it was only a matter of time. It was only so long that she could pointedly ignore someone's presence. It was getting harder to not be curious about the person that was sharing the place in silence. And when she stole her first glance at the boy who sat across her three tables down, he was no longer a faceless stranger with whom she found a peculiar camaraderie in their nightly study sessions. She had thought that he looked okay, objectively speaking.

The days following, she found herself noticing his presence. It was not as if she had looked out for him. There was only that silent observation, 'Ah, he's here'.

But after a while, she started paying attention to the boy who had stepped into view after the night became lonely. He was always there. Without fail. She took a glimpse at his face anytime she wanted to, shamelessly, without holding back. He always had his head down, the dutiful hand towel around his neck, hair half-dried from the shower.

He became a person. He was athletic. He was hard-working. He was comforting. And he was unbelievably handsome; the kind of person whom very little could deny his beauty. He was Jeon Jungkook. She knew his name.

"You're still here," he said, standing in front of her table.

"It didn't feel late. Your stadium lights were still on, I can still hear people cheering," She returned the familiarity he was treating her with; schooled her expression from the surprise it evoked since it was out of character of him.

"There is a change of timetable. They are clearing most days for the official team to practise. The rest of us gets the Mondays and Tuesdays. Lesser days, longer sessions,"

Dahyun nodded at his explanation, "You're studying?"

"You're going back?" He asked looking at her half-packed items on the table.

"I could stay," she offered, then corrected, "If you are. I still have some things left to finish."

He nodded; slipped his hand into his pants pocket to pull out something. He opened his palm and brought it closer for her to see. Dahyun frowned; could not quite make sense of what he was offering to her or why.

"Your car key," he said as it registered with her foggy brain, "I thought it might be yours. You've been leaving school without your car, and I found it nearby. Is it not yours?"

Dahyun grasped his retreating hand, "It's mine," she said quietly, "Thank you."

"Sit here? It rained all afternoon. The benches are all wet. I've wiped down mine so you won't have to," she said.

He looked around to find it true, "Thanks," and gingerly sat at the end of the table and Dahyun moved closer to the other end too, both careful to keep as much distance as they could between them.

Dahyun quietly returned to her reading. It was not easy, not when she was trying so hard to keep the stupid smile off her face. She hoped that he was too busy to have seen it, or if he had, to pretend that he had not. So, they could settle back into their comfortable routine, both on different orbits, close but never colliding. So, she could continue to see him from afar, maybe forever.