Cw// fluff, musician sn X artist wy, strangers to lovers Inspired by the song 'one in a million by Mark Tuan'
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The subway wasn’t the most magical place in the world. Not when it smelled like metal and too much perfume—and definitely not when people shoved past each other like it was a rat race. But somehow, between all that chaos, fate had special plans for a boy who loved white paper and pencils more than anything.
Wooyoung, a young artist working at a small design studio, wasn’t looking for anything special—just a quiet ride, a spot by the window, and a little time to sketch random strangers before the day began. It was something he did out of habit during the long train ride—an everyday ritual that brought him a sense of calm.
But one day, a young stranger stepped into his section of the train—and stole not only the space on his sketchpad, but a little space in his heart too.
The broad-shouldered, cat-like boy with a model-like walk wasn’t particularly loud or trying to get attention, but he had that… presence. A gift from birth, Wooyoung thought. With messy black hair that flopped over his eyes, a guitar slung casually over one shoulder, and a calm aura about him—he made Wooyoung’s heart do that weird fluttery thing usually reserved only for a really good cup of coffee or a fresh bundle of sketchbooks.
From then on, it felt like a one-sided crush. Wooyoung looked forward to seeing him every day—just glimpses, really. He never spoke to him, but he drew him. Over and over. On napkins, sketchbooks, even the backs of receipts. Wooyoung had sketched hundreds of strangers before, but this boy? He was his favorite subject, without a doubt.
He’d nudge his glasses up and peek through the platinum strands falling over his eyes, just enough to catch the stranger’s beautiful features—sketching him with the kind of care he saved for only the most delicate portraits. Each glance added another stroke of life to the drawings he couldn’t stop making.
He couldn’t explain it. That boy felt like art, even before Wooyoung ever put pencil to page.
What Wooyoung didn’t know… was that the beautiful stranger had noticed him too.
For a week, he’d been stealing shy glances at the quiet boy with the sketchbook. He always looked so focused, so peaceful. Every time he considered saying hello, his nerves won. What would he even say? “Hey, I like your hair”? Absolutely not—cringe.
So, he pretended not to see. Pretended not to feel the little flutter in his chest whenever Wooyoung was already on the train, sitting by the window, sketching away.
Until one day… Wooyoung did something unexpected.
Just before his stop, Wooyoung stood up, walked over, and without a word, handed him a small envelope with a bashful smile.
