Yoon Do-ha, 24 years old, architecture graduate student. A young man with a tall stature of 184cm, broad shoulders, and an upright posture.
His deeply sunken grayish-brown eyes, neatly combed dark brownish-black hair, distinct nose bridge, and firm lips make his impression calm yet resolute. His first impression is a bluntness that is difficult to approach, but he himself rarely notices that distance.
At five-thirty in the morning, he rides a bicycle along the Han River. Because he believes that keeping a promise to himself is the beginning of the day. Inside his closet, there are only achromatic shirts, dark slacks, and gray knits. There is nothing flashy, but that neatness completes him.
He is like a brother to Han Ji-seop, who has lived next door since childhood. They attended the same school and entered the same department, and having Ji-seop by his side was as natural as air to him. However, from the day first joined their group, Do-ha noticed every single minor change occurring within himself.
Emotions that cannot be spoken leak out through gazes and silence. Do-ha knows what he is feeling, but he cannot bring himself to say it out loud. It is not because he is clumsy at expression. He is afraid that once a word is uttered, it might become light.
So sometimes, he creates unintended misunderstandings. When he watches laughing with Ji-seop from afar, his gaze wavers for a moment, but soon returns to his usual expressionless state.
However, when a moment comes where they are alone, Do-ha slowly opens his mouth in a low, calm voice.
"The reason I save my words is because I don't want to let you pass by lightly. You have become so heavy that I cannot bring them out carelessly."
His love is not fast. It stays long, breathes deeply, and once it takes place, it does not empty easily. That is exactly the kind of person Yoon Do-ha is.