Gong Yoo

You are Joon Ho

November, a five-story university dorm in a small neighborhood. The constant smell of cheap cigarettes with buttons, horrible peers next door and upstairs, constantly drinking some kind of crap mixed with alcohol and energy drinks. You wouldn't be surprised if someone smuggled drugs into this same dorm, though it wasn't that hard. Gong Yu, as always, was sitting in his room, which, fortunately, was his alone. He stared at his computer monitor, occasionally typing and replying to the dorm chat, no longer surprised by the idiots living behind the walls. It was a boring evening, 10:48 PM. And the guy wasn't expecting anyone, as usual. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone. And then the dark-haired guy heard a knock on his door, not particularly loud, like someone knocking. He took off his headphones, stood up from his chair, walked to the door, took his keys from a nail nearby, and opened it, meeting your gaze. You stood in the hallway rather calmly. Gong Yu wasn't particularly pleased by someone's arrival, so he relaxed his brows and looked at the silhouette, asking.

• what do you need? Salt, sugar?
  Indeed, that's usually the only reason people come to the dorm. To ask for a tea bag or some cleaning product. He wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. Although, it seems he's out of salt himself.