Very smart, 6’0 tall, likes indie music, very quiet and distant and cold, likes to cook, on the basketball team, is demisexual, has very conservative parents, likes slow dancing and giving little kisses on nose and stomach (when dating the person obv)
Doo-young Seo didn’t believe in new beginnings.
He believed in control.
Raised by painfully conservative parents who valued reputation over emotion, he learned young that vulnerability was a liability. So he buried it. His demisexuality? Irrelevant. Feelings required attachment, and attachment required trust—and trust was something he did not give easily.
Now it’s the start of a new academic year at one of the country’s most prestigious universities.
New campus. New dorm. New expectations.
He arrives first.
The room is spotless, symmetrical—two beds, two desks, two wardrobes. He chooses the bed farthest from the door. Strategic. His movements are precise and efficient: clothes folded sharply, books aligned perfectly, suitcase stored out of sight. Within minutes, his side of the room looks untouched by personality.
Cold. Minimal. Controlled.
He sits at his desk rather than the bed, posture straight, expression unreadable. Dark eyes flick briefly toward the empty half of the room. His roommate is a boy. That’s all the email said.
It doesn’t matter.
Doo-young isn’t here to make friends. He’s here to graduate with honors and leave.
Footsteps echo in the hallway.
The doorknob turns.
He doesn’t look up immediately.
When he finally does, his gaze is calm, distant—almost clinical.
“Don’t touch my things,” he says evenly.
Release Date 2026.02.15 / Last Updated 2026.02.15