Chan's Scribbles

A faint glow beneath the bedroom door captured your attention and you decided to slip on one of his hoodies lying across the chair. You stepped into the hallway, expecting to find him in the kitchen.

But the apartment was empty. That’s when you noticed his shoes were gone. Your brows pulled together slightly.

Five minutes lander, you found him downstairs in the building’s laundry room.

Minho sat on top of one of the washing machines, hood pulled over his hair hair, one foot lightly nudging against the floor while the machines hummed softly around him.

He looked up when the door opened and for a second, surprise crossed his face. Then his gaze softened. “You’re awake”, he said quietly.

You walked further inside, arms folded against the cold. “So are you.” He hummed as the washing machine beneath him vibrated gently with each cycle. You stopped between the rows of machines, looking at him for a moment before speaking again.

“You can’t sleep?”

Minho looked away first. “Mhm.”

That was all, just a quiet, almost broken sound.

You stepped closer. The room smelled faintly like detergent and warm fabric. Somewhere behind you a dryer rattled softly.

“You could’ve woken me up”, you said gently as you leaned against one of the machines, shooting him a sympathetic look. He shrugged lightly, eyes fixed somewhere on the tilted floor. “I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked comfortable.”

There was something tired about him tonight. Not physically. You knew that his thoughts had been too loud for sleep.

You moved to stand between his knees, hands slipping into the sleeves of the oversized hoodie. You could feel the warmth of his body radiating, engulfing you in a comforting hug, without even touching you yet.

Finally he glanced up at you. “You came all the way downstairs because I disappeared?”

“You vanished at nearly 2 am”, you said sleepily. “I got worried.”

That earned the smallest smile from him. Barely there, but real. You reached up carefully, pushing a few stands of hair away from his eyes. “They’re loud again?”, you asked softly. His gaze flickered slightly. You always knew.

Minho leaned his head back with a quiet sigh. “Just thinking too much.”

“About?”

A pause.

Long enough that you almost thought he wouldn’t answer. Until he broke the silence.

“Everything.”

The word came out tired. Heavy in the way only late night thoughts could be. You nodded slowly like you understood without needing details. Because you did.

He looked at you carefully after that, like he was waiting for more questions. For explanations. For him to make sense.

But you only stepped closer, resting your forehead against his. You were both so cold. “You don’t have to explain yourself”, you whispered. Something in his expression softened immediately. The laundry room stayed quiet around you, machines humming steadily beneath the fluorescent lights while the rest of the building slept above your heads.

Minho’s hands slid loosely around your waist beneath the oversized hoodie, pulling a little closer between his knees. His forehead stayed against yours. Eyes closed now. Breathing slower.

“You should be sleep”, he murmured softly.

“So should you.”

A small huff of laughter escaped him this time.

You smiled faintly at the sound. It was quiet, tired but still enough to loosen something tight in your chest. For a while, neither of you spoke. You just stayed there together while the washing buzzed softly around you. The hoodie sleeves brushed against Minho’s wrists where his hands rested at your waist, thumbs absentmindedly moving against the fabric like he needed something grounding beneath his fingertips.

His touch was gentle tonight. More than usual.

You noticed little things when he got like this. The way he went quieter than usual. The way his shoulders held tension even when he tried to relax. The way his thoughts seemed to pull him somewhere far away. Even while he sat right in front of you.

You lifted your head. “You know it’s kinda depressing seeing you sitting here like that. In a laundry room at two in the morning wearing all black like a sad movie character.” He huffed quietly, tilting his head a bit to nuzzle his nose against yours in a subtle way. “Give me a break, I am overthinking.”

You chuckled, threading your fingers through his hair. “Do you wanna talk about what makes you overthink now?”, you asked softly, your index finger, now gliding across his jaw, tilting his chin up so you could look into his eyes.

But instead, he initially looked past you toward the spinning dryer behind you, expression distant again. The silence stretched long enough that you thought maybe he’d retreat back into himself completely. Then he spoke quietly.

“Sometimes I feel guilty talking about stuff.”

You frowned softly. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged one shoulder. “There’s always something more important. Other people are more tired. More stressed.” His eyes lowered. “Feels stupid sometimes.”

Your chest tightened at his words. If you could, you would climb into his head and kill every single one of his thoughts that kept him up all night.

“Minho.” He looked at you again.

“You’re allowed to feel things even if someone else has it worse. Your feelings are just as valid.” His expression faltered slightly. Your fingers wandered, now brushing lightly along his cheek. His skin was still cold.

“It’s not a competition”, you continued softly. “You don’t have to earn the right to be overwhelmed.” For a second he just looked at you, in complete silence.

And suddenly he looked younger somehow. Less guarded, like he exhaustion had stripped away all the walls he usually kept up so effortlessly. “You always know what to say”, he murmured. You smiled sleepily. “Not always.”

“Most of the time.”

“You’re biased.”

“Maybe.”

That pulled a quiet laugh from you this time. Minho watched you carefully afterward, his expression softening even more now. Some of the tension in his shoulders had eased, though traces of it still lingered beneath the surface.

“I don’t wanna be a burden, you know.”

“Hey”, you whispered. “You’re not a burden.” Minho swallowed once before looking away briefly. His hands slipped higher beneath the hoodie, resting against your back now, his palms resting gently though the thin fabric of your sleep shirt.

You studied him for a moment before carefully taking his face in your hands. “Look at me.” He did.

“You never have to disappear to feel things alone. I get that you want to be alone sometimes and I respect that. But I want you to know that if you don’t want to be alone, I am here, okay? You don’t have to be all by yourself because you think you’d be a burden, because you could never be one. Never”, you emphasized.

The vulnerability in his eyes almost hurt to look at.

Then Minho leaned forward first.

The kiss was soft and slow. Warm despite the cold room around you. You melted into it immediately. His hands held you gently, like something precious, rhumbs brushing small comforting circles against your back while the washing machine hummed beneath him.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours again. “Sorry”, he murmured.

“What for, silly?”

“Waking you up.”

“You didn’t.”

“Still.”

You smiled faintly. “Actually, it was kinda fun finding you. You now, the anticipation of finding you here.”

That earned a quiet laugh from him. The sound echoed softly in the empty laundry room. A dryer buzzed loudly somewhere behind you, signaling the end of its cycle before fading back into silence.

Minho sighed quietly afterward. “Tired?”, you asked.

“Mhm.”

“Enough overthinking for tonight?”

His lips pressed together thoughtfully. “Maybe.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “That didn’t sound convincing.”

“It’s difficult to turn my brain off.”

You brushed your thumb beneath one of his eyes gently. “Want help?”

“How?”

You pretended to think for a moment. “We could go upstairs and I could talk about literally anything until you fall asleep.”

“That sounds threatening.”

“I could tell you every detail of the weird dream I had yesterday.”

“Absolutely not.”

You gasped softly. “Rude.”

His face lit up for a second before he glanced down. “You know what the worst part is?”, he asked softly.

“What?”

“I wasn’t even thinking about anything specific anymore.” His voice stayed low and tired. “It just kept going.” He tapped lightly against the side of his head with a weak smile. “One thought turned into ten.”

You nodded carefully. “And then suddenly it feels impossible to breathe normally.” Your hand automatically slipped to his chest, rubbing comforting circles. “What about right now? Is it hard to breathe?”

He looked at you as he absentmindedly said: “No. Not right now.” You could feel his heartbeat against your palm. Warm and steady. It grounded you too somehow, knowing that he was okay right now. Reassured you that he was here, rpesent with you now instead of trapped somewhere inside his own head.

You smiled softly. “Good.”

His gaze lingered on your face, tired but calmer now, the sharp tension around his eyes easing little by little.

“You’re freezing”, you murmured suddenly, brushing your fingers over his cold hands. “So are you.”

You rubbed your thumb gently across his cheekbone. “Come upstairs with me?” He hesitated for only a second before nodding slowly. “Okay.”

You smiled immediately and he looked at you like the reaction alone was enough to make his chest ache. “What?”, he asked quietly.

“Nothing.” You leaned down to press a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I just like when you let me take care of you.”

The faint pink tint creeping across his cheeks was almost impossible to notice beneath the fluorescent light, but you saw it anyway. “Don’t make it weird.”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m cold.”

“Sure.”

He rolled his eyes, though the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him completely. Eventually he slid off the washing machine, hands automatically finding your waist again before reluctantly letting go. You reached for his hand immediately instead, intertwining your fingers.

His grip tightened instinctively.

The walk back upstairs felt quieter than before. The elevator hummed softly as it carried you back toward the floor. You leaned against Minho’s side sleepily, your head resting on his shoulder while his thumb traced circles over your knuckles.

When the elevator doors opened, Minho guided you out gently with his hand resting at the small of your back. The apartment felt warmer the second you stepped inside – in complete contrast to the laundry room.

You kicked off your slippers near the door and turned toward him. “Tea?”

His tired eyes lifted slightly. “At two in the morning?”

“Exactly.”

“You sound eighty years old.”

“You’re the one having a crisis in the laundry room.”

He huffed out another laugh under his breath and shook his head, though the corners of his mouth stayed lifted faintly.

While he disappeared toward the bedroom to grab the blanket, you wandered into the kitchen, still wrapped in his oversized hoodie. The apartment lights stayed dim except for the soft yellow glow above the stove.

You filled the kettle with water quietly while listening to Minho moving around in the other room. A few seconds later he reappeared wearing the same dark hoodie as before but now with a blanket draped loosely around his shoulders like a cape.

The kettle clicked softly as the water heated. Outside the windows, the city was still dark, streetlights glowing faintly against the empty roads below. You watched Minho carefully while pulling two mugs from the cabinet.

“What kind?”, you asked, holding up different tea boxes. He squinted sleepily. “Whichever one knocks me unconscious fastest.” You chuckled quietly as you poured the hot water into both mugs while Minho continued watching you from the kitchen.

You handed him one of the mugs carefully before hopping up onto the counter beside him. Minho stood between your knees automatically, one hand around the warm ceramic mug while the other absentmindedly rested against your thigh.

“You know”, you said after a moment. “I used to hate nights like this.”

His eyes lifted slightly. “Like what?”

“When your brain won’t stop.” Minho looked down at his tea quietly. You continued softly. “Everything feels louder at night. Every thought suddenly sounds important. Like you have to solve your entire life before morning.”

A faint smile crossed his face. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”

“I know.”

You blew lightly against your tea before taking a small sip. “When I was younger”, you continued sleepily. “I used to think staying awake would somehow fix things. Like if I thought long enough, eventually I’d figure everything out.”

“And did you?”

“No”, you smiled faintly. “Usually I got a headache.”

That earned another quiet laugh. You watched the way his shoulder relaxed more every minutes. The tea seemed to help too, warming his hands slowing him down enough to stop the constant restlessness from earlier.

“You wanna know something weird?”, you asked.

“I am not sure.”

“I’m serious.”

Minho tilted his head lightly for you to continue, while scooting a bit closer to you.

“Overthinking is kinda arrogant. You start thinking you can predict every possible bad outcome ever, right? Like you think hard enough you can prepare for everything.”

“That’s not arrogant.”

“It kind of is”, you argued sleepily. “It’s like your brain goes: wow, I alone must carry the responsibility of imagining every disaster.”

He stared at you for a second before snorting quietly into his tea. “That’s the dumbest wise thing you’ve ever said.”

“You agree with me though.”

“A little.”

He rolled his eyes again, but there was warmth behind it now instead of exhaustion. You took another sip before studying him carefully again. “Better?”

“Yeah”, he admitted. “Better.”

Your chest loosened immediately hearing that. He looked at you over the rim of his mug for a second before speaking again.

“You know what scared me sometimes?”

“What?”

“That one day you’ll get tired of this.”

Your brows pulled together instantly. “Of what?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely toward himself. “Me disappearing at weird hours. Me overthinking. Me getting stuck in my own head all the time.” You stared at him in disbelief for a moment.

Then you reached forward and grabbed his hoodie strings, tugging him slightly closer. “Lee Minho.”

His eyes lifted to yours immediately at the tone, while he placed the now empty mug onto the counter.

“I love you so much, baby. Sometimes it scares me how much I love you. But one thing is for sure. No matter how many bad nights or moments you are going to have, I’ll always be there for you. Just like how you are always there for me.”

He looked away briefly. “You say that now.”

“I’ll say it tomorrow too.”

You wrapped your arms now completely around his body, pulling him into a hug. Instinctively he raised his hands, wrapping the blanket around you as well, instantly warming you up. “People aren’t only loveable when they’re easy”, you murmured against his neck. “And you take care of me all the time. So let me do the same for you.”

Minho’s throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed. The apartment stayed quiet except for the faint ticking of the kitchen clock and the occasional distant sound of cars somewhere far below your window. His head now fell onto your shoulder, his breath fanning over your skin.

Your heart melted instantly. “Sleepy?”, you asked softly.

“Mhm.”

“But trying not to sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

He shrugged slightly without lifting his head. “Feels like if I fall asleep now my thoughts will just start again tomorrow.”

Your expression softened painfully. You exhaled softly before threading your fingers gently though his hair again in a slow and comforting way. “They probably will”, you admitted quietly.

He sighed.

“But that doesn’t mean you have to fight them alone every time.”

A second passed by.

“I love you, jagiya”, he mumbled quietly against your shoulder, tightening his grip around you. A tired smile appeared on your face. “I love you”, you whispered back.

The warmth from the tea and the quiet apartment seemed to slowly pull him closer toward sleep. You could tell by the way his body grew heavier against you. So you started talking. About nothing. Everything. Exactly like you promised.

You told him about the weird dream you’d had a few nights ago involving a human sized fruit in the grocery store that kept cheating on their partners, always mumbling something about “this can’t happen again.”

Minho laughed quietly against you. “What the hell is wrong with you”, he whispered weakly.

“Don’t ask me.”

“Does this kinda stuff concern you? Are you scared that I am going to turn into a banana and cheat on you?”

“I am not concerned about the cheating part. More of the fruit part.”

His shoulders shook lightly. “You know what? I am not going to ask any more questions about this sick dream.”

You grinned and continued anyway, describing increasingly ridiculous details just to hear the soft amused noises escaping him every few seconds. You noticed that he grew quieter and quieter. “Are you falling asleep on me?”, you whispered.

“No.”

“You stopped responding minutes ago.”

“Mhm.”

You smiled softly, while you gently pushed him off you. His eyes were closed, he really was about to fall asleep while standing. “Ok, that’s enough. We’re going to bed.” Without  any protest, Minho let you take his hand, fingers loosely intertwining with yours as you guided him toward the bedroom.

By the time you reached the bedroom, Minho looked even sleepier. The second you let go of his hand to pull back the blankets, he crawled into bed, collapsing onto the mattress with a long exhausted sigh that made you smile. You climbed in beside him after turning off the bedside lamp.

Almost instantly Minho turned toward you and reached for you – one arm slipping around your waist beneath the blankets until you were pulled flush against his chest. A few seconds passed in silence, before he broke it. “Thank you so much for everything.”

The untouched coffee beside him had gone cold hour an hour ago.

His eyes stayed fixed on the screen. Analyzing every single beat. The melody. The arrangement. He was listening and criticizing – nothing seemed to be right.

A quiet knock sounded against the studio door and he flinched. Who could it be at this time?

“Come in”, he muttered, his gaze now fixated on the door, which opened slowly. Warm air from the hallway slipped inside along with the smell of fresh coffee and takeout food.

You stood there holding a paper bag in one hand and two coffees in the other. For a second something in his expression softened.

“Hey, you”, you said quietly. “You’re still here.” You shot him sympathetic smile, I am still trying to finish this song. Something is missing and I can’t figure out what.”

You walked over carefully, setting the drinks down beside the keyboard before placing the food near him. “I figured you forgot to eat again.” In that moment his stomach started to rumble and he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing both hands down his face slowly. The room was quiet except for the faint static from the speakers.

Then you glanced toward the screen. Different track versions lined the monitor in messy rows.

Version 12.

Version 13.

Version 14.

None of them finished. “You’ve been stuck on the same song?”, you asked softly, stepping behind him. Chris stared at the timeline for a moment longer before nodding once. “It doesn’t sound right. None of them are good enough.”

He looked exhausted and it literally broke your heart. Dark circles under his eyes, a light twitch noticeable. The evidence that this wasn’t the first all nighter that he pulled was there.

You slowly placed your hands on his shoulders and immediately noticed how tense he was. Your fingers gently pressed into his muscles and his head fell into his neck, a soft moan escaping his lips. Carefully you leaned down, til your face was by his ear. “How about you take a little break? You’re too far in your head, it’s blocking you”, you whispered slowly, while slowly pressing your thumbs into his skin, trying to massage the knots away.

He turned his head slightly to your side, his eyes searching your face for something unknown. A couple of seconds passed in silence, it was just the two of you in the quiet of the studio. Then he lifted his hand, grabbed yours and pulled you slowly on his lap.

You settled carefully against him, one arm instinctively wrapping around his shoulders so he would not have to hold all of his weight up alone. Up close the exhaustion on his face looked even worse. His skin was pale beneath the harsh studio lighting, lips slightly dry from too much coffee and not enough sleep.

Chris rested his forehead against your shoulder for a moment and exhaled slowly, like even breathing had become difficult tonight. “I am serious”, he murmured quietly. “I don’t know why I can’t get this right.”

Your fingers moved gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Chris-“

“No, listen.” His voice cracked slightly from overuse and exhaustion. He pulled back just enough to look at you properly. “Everyone expects something good every time. The company, the fans …” He swallowed hard. “I’m supposed to lead this group properly and to make something worth all of this.”

The monitor continued glowing with unfinished timelines and scattered audio files. “But what if it’s not enough. The bar is so fricking high, what if I can’t live up to that?”

You could hear the fear underneath it now. No frustration. No irritation. Fear.

He laughed once under his breath, bitter and tired. “I keep listening to it and all I hear are flaws. Maybe I am losing it.” His gaze dropped toward the desk. “Maybe I am not good enough to keep carrying all of this.”

Your chest tightened painfully at his words. Carefully you cupped his face between your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes again. “Hey. Don’t say that.” His expression faltered immediately, like he wanted to believe you but didn’t know how.

“You care too much. That’s the problem. You put every ounce of yourself into this until you can’t separate the music from your own worth anymore”, you whispered quietly.

You gently shook his face in your hands like you wanted to shake some sense into him. His eyes stayed focused on you as your thumbs caressed the corners of his mouth. “You think one unfinished song suddenly erases everything you’ve already done? Everything you have achieved over the last couple of years?”, you continued gently.

His jaw tightened silently. “I’m the leader”, he said quietly. “If I mess up-“

“You’re human as well, Chris”, you interrupted softly. “And you’re exhausted.”

For a second he looked away again, blinking rapidly like he hated how emotional he felt right now. Your thumb brushed lightly beneath his eye before a tear could fully form. “Baby, I want you to listen to me now carefully.”

He looked at you again, his eyes still glistening.

“I see someone who stays awake until four in the morning because he cares so much it physically and mentally hurts him. I see someone who carries everyone else first and himself last.” Your fingers slid through his hair slowly as the room fell silent again except for the low hum of the equipment around you.

“You deserve some kindness as well, you know?”, you added finally and felt how his grip strengthened around you. Your hands wandered to his shoulders and you could feel how the tension slowly loosened beneath your touch. “You really think it’s okay if this isn’t perfect?”, he asked eventually, voice almost embarrassingly small. You tilted your head, shooting him a soft smile.

“I think nothing you create will ever be as terrible as you convince yourself it is at three in the morning.” A breath of laughter escaped him – weak and tired, but real. “There you are. My Chris”, you whispered teasingly.

He pulled you closer against his chest, this time when he buried his face against your shoulder it felt less desperate. “I am scared to disappoint everyone”, he admitted quietly into your hoodie. Your hand rested against the back of his head. “You won’t.”

“What if-?”

“No what ifs anymore. You won’t disappoint everyone. You’re going to make everyone proud. And even when things get hard, you don’t have to carry it alone. You have the boys. And you have me.”

His grip tightened again at those words. His breathing went calm and you softly pressed your lips on his head. “So, should I ask you when your last meal was or will the answer get me mad?”, you mumbled against his skin and his shoulder shook as he laughed out. “Better don’t ask me”, he replied and untangled himself from you.

You breathed out and turned around to grab the bag with the takeout food. “Good thing I brought you some Pho.” You took it out, placed it on the table and turned around to him again. “Here is what you’re going to do. You take a break, eat this damn pho and then you’re going to nap. Even if I have to smash this damn studio.”

Chris blinked a few times before a tired laugh finally slipped out of him properly this time. Low and raspy from exhaustion, but genuine enough to make relief loosen the tight knot in your chest.

“Damn what did the pho do to you?”, he asked, a tired grin pulled at his lips. You rolled your eyes. “Just eat your pho, before I shove it down your throat myself.”

“Damn, you’re bossy today.”

You hummed in approval, about to get up from his lap so he could eat in peace, but he was quick to wrap his arm around you to pull you back. “Where do you think are you going?”

You let out a surprised laugh as you landed back against his chest, one of his arms securely wrapped around your waist now despite how exhausted he was.

“Chris”, you protested weakly, trying not to smile. “You need to eat.”

“I can do that, while you stay here.” You snorted softly and relaxed against him again, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of his hoodie while he reached for the pho with his free hand.

You watched him taking the first bite and how his face relaxed even more when the warm substance reached his tongue. His head eventually dropped against your shoulder while he chewed and let out a satisfied grunt. “Is it good?”, you asked softly and he just nodded. “Even with mint. Baby, I love you so much”, he whispered, as his free hand tightened around you .

Chris lowered the chopsticks for a second and looked at you like he still couldn’t fully understand how someone could walk into his worst moments and make them feel survivable. The studio lights reflected softly in his tired eyes now, exhaustion still there, nut no longer crushing him whole.

The song loop had long stopped playing and the studio finally felt quiet instead of suffocating. Then you exhaled softly, watching him quietly eating his pho. As soon as he took the last bite your hands slowly ruffled his hair. “How about you catch up on some sleep? You know I love you and you know I think you’re the hottest man who happened to walk planet earth right now, but you look rough. The circles under your eyes are as dark as the company’s budget after comeback season.”

He almost spat the pho out as he chuckled loudly at your remark. “Damn, you’re on fire today”, he laughed and leaned back against the chair, one hand covering his mouth while the other stayed wrapped loosely around your waist – the way his blinking had started slowing, the way his eyes struggled to stay fully open after every few seconds.

“There it is”, you mumbled quietly.

“What?”

“The crash.”

“I’m fine.”

“Mhm, sure.” You gently brushed your thumb beneath one of his eyes. “You just blinked in slow motion.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue further more, but a yawn interrupted him halfway through. You raised an eyebrow immediately.

“You now literally yawned mid sentence.”

Chris groaned softly and dropped his forehead against you dramatically. “Can’t believe my body betrayed me like this”, he muttered.

A quiet laugh escaped you as your fingers moved through his hair again and you slowly slipped off his lap. He looked up at you about to reach for you again, but you caught his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “Come on. Let’s go to sleep now.”

You glanced toward the small couch shoved into the corner near the shelves of old vinyls and pulled him up. He stumbled slightly against you, his forehead once again finding your shoulder. You laughed quietly, slowly pushing him back only to find out that his eyes were already closed.

You grabbed his hand, slowly guiding him to the couch and seating them there. All while his eyes were still closed. When he felt the soft fabric of the furniture under his skin he opened his eyes again.

The studio lights suddenly felt much softer over here away from the monitors. “Oh, this is dangerous”, he mumbled suddenly.

“What?”

“If I close my eyes now, it’s over.”

You smiled softly and grabbed the folded blanket laying over the armrest before draping it over him. “That’s kind of the goal.”

The second you tucked the blanket around him, his eyes fluttered shut. Your heart clenched a little at how exhausted he looked now that he finally stopped forcing himself awake. Carefully you sat down beside him and brushed his hair away from his forehead.

He slightly lifted the blanket off his body. “Come here”, he whispered weakly  as he made space for you despite the couch being way too small for two people comfortably. The moment you laid down beside him, he immediately pulled you close like it was instinctive.

“Much better”, he whispered quietly, pulling the blanket over both of you. Your arms slipped around him carefully while his head settled against your chest. Within minutes his breathing had already started slowing. You continued running your fingers through his hair slowly while the quiet hum of the studio filled the silence around you.

“Hey”, he murmured eventually, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Thanks for coming and … making sure I am ok.”

You pressed a soft kiss against the top of his head. “Always.”

Chris hummed quietly at that, eyes already fully closed now. His body got heavier against you, acting like a second blanket that’s breathing. You looked at him, admiring his now calm features. His lips slightly puckered, as he nuzzled into you and you wrapped your arms tighter around him.

He was fully gone now and you couldn’t be happier that he finally got to rest a bit. It didn’t take long until you fell asleep as well, still tangled with his body.

Soft morning light filtered through the narrow studio windows by the time you woke up again. For a second you were confused about where you were. Your neck hurt slightly from the awkward position on the couch and one of your legs had completely fallen asleep beneath the blanket.

Still half asleep, you looked down automatically, but Chris was no longer there.

Your brows furrowed immediately. The blanket had slipped into the empty space beside you and the spot next to you was still warm, meaning he couldn’t have been gone long. Slowly you pushed yourself upright, rubbing tiredly at your eyes before glancing around the studio.

And there he was. Back in front of the mixing desk. But this time everything felt different.

The harsh frustration from last night was gone. His shoulders looked relaxed for the first time in days, head moving slightly to the rhythm playing softly through his headphones. One hand rested against the keyboard while the other tapped lightly against his thigh.

You stayed quiet for a moment, just watching him.

Then you noticed the screen.

Not version 12, 13 or 14. FINAL.

A sleepy smile slowly pulled at your lips. You carefully stood up and walked toward him, your feet barely making noise against the floor. Chris didn’t notice you immediately, too focused on the song playing

You reached him quietly and wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing a soft kiss against the side of his head. He startled slightly before immediately relaxing into your touch.

“Morning”, he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.

“Morning”, you muttered, leaning against him. “You finished it?”

A smile appeared on his face as he leaned back into you. “Yeah.”

You glanced toward the screen again. “When?”

“Like an hour ago?”

Your eyes widened instantly. “Chris!”

“I woke up and suddenly everything made sense”, he defended quickly, laughing softly when you lightly smacked his shoulder. “I swear I slept first.”

“You better have.”

“I did.” He turned his head slightly toward you, smiling lazily now. “Turns out you were right.”

You gasped. “Holy shit. Say that again.”

He rolled his eyes affectionately before reaching up to grab your wrist gently, pulling you around the chair until you ended up standing between his knees. Then he looked up at you quietly for a moment.

He looked happy. Really happy.

“You know what the worst part is?”, he asked.

“What?”

He rested his hands against your waist slowly. “The thing that was missing was painfully obvious after sleeping.”

You smiled softly. “What was it?”

Chris tilted his head toward the headphone, that now rested on his shoulders, where the finished track continued playing quietly.

“Space”, he said simply. “I kept overcrowding everything because I was panicking.” His thumbs rubbed absentmindedly against your hips. “The second my brain stopped spiraling I knew exactly what needed to stay and what needed to go.”

You stared at him for a second before your hands slid up his arms. “You needed to rest.”

Then Chris reached over and clicked something on the keyboard, the melody of the song now playing over the speakers instead of his headphones.

“This part”, he murmured pulling you closer until your knees pressed against his chair. “Listen carefully.”

You stayed quiet while the instrumental built softly through the speakers. Then the chorus hit. Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”

Chris watched your reaction carefully now, nervousness flickering briefly across his face again. “Too much?”

“No”, you said immediately, looking back at him. “No, baby. It’s beautiful. I love it.” The tension left his shoulders fast.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. “See what happens when you sleep like a normal person? I am really contemplating sedating you more often.”

He laughed quietly and pulled you into his lap again, pressing himself against you. “Thank you so much. Without you I never would have finished this song”, he whispered softly and pressed a kiss against your shoulder blades. Followed by another one. Then another.

“You know I am never going to let you go, right? You’re stuck with me forever”, he said, which was supposed to sound like a threat, but you actually liked the idea of it. You loved it.

You locked your phone and set it aside, rolling onto your side so you were facing him fully. For a moment you just watched him. The way his hair fell messily across his forehead, the faint crease on his cheek from the pillow, the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Carefully you reached out, poking his cheek. Once, twice. A little more insistently the third time. His face squished under your finger, lips shifting slightly from the pressure – but he didn’t wake. He was still fast asleep.

You huffed quietly, but there was a hint of amusement in it. Leaning closer, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Then another. Then one just beside his lips, lingering for half a second longer than necessary.

A faint sound escaped him – barely there, like a sleepy protest. You grinned. “Good morning.” His brows knit together slightly, his head shifting deeper into the pillow as if trying to escape both you and consciousness itself.

Again you leaned in, your lips barely hovering over his forehead. “Wake up, baby”, you whispered, finally pressing your lips on his skin. His breath hitched a bit, then you felt his fingers around yours on the sheets. He gently squeezed them, stirring slowly in his sleep. Then finally he opened his eyes. An immediate smile appeared on his lips, when he looked at you.

His hand found its way to your neck, pulling you closer to capture your lips in between his.

“Hi”, he murmured, voice low. Your lips curved. “Hi.”

You smiled at him, your hand now resting lightly against his chest. “Took you long enough”, you murmured and pulled back slightly. He huffed a quiet laugh, eyes still half-lidden. “What’s the time?” You looked at your phone. “It’s shortly past 8 am.” He groaned quietly. “Too early.”

“It’s not early”, you countered. “We are in Barcelona, we have some stuff to do. Now get up.”

“No.”

“Come on. For me?” You shot him the most irresistible puppy eyes, that you knew he couldn’t say no to. There was a pause. He looked at you for a second, completely silent, like he was trying to fight it – like he knew exactly what you were doing and refused to give in.

“You’re evil.”

Your lips twitched. “That’s not a no.”

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his face before letting it fall back onto the mattress. “You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“This”, he gestured vaguely toward your face, eyes narrowing slightly. “That look.”

You leaned closer, not breaking eye contact. “I don’t know what you mean?”

He squinted at you. “You know exactly what I mean.” You now placed your chin on his chest, still giving him those eyes, batting your eyelashes. “No, Jeongin. Enlighten me.” You now added another slight pout and that was it.

He broke.

A quiet, defeated sound escaped him as he dropped his head back on the pillow, one hand coming up to cover his face. “Ugh, ok. Fine.”

Your smile widened. “So you’re getting up?”

Instead of answering his hands suddenly found your waist, flipping the situation in one smooth movement. A small surprised sound left you as he shifted, pulling you down properly against him, trapping you beneath his arms.

“Hey-!”

“That’s enough”, he mumbled, voice still sleepy but laced with amusement. He pulled you closer, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “We have to get up”, you repeated your words from earlier. “Five minutes”, he added quietly.

The morning in Barcelona wrapped around you the moment you stepped outside – it was warm, cozy. The sun already stood high in the sky, unapologetic and strong, pouring light over everything.

You walked beside Jeongin, one hand loosely holding his, the other occasionally coming up to shield your eyes. “Why is the sun so aggressive”, you complained, squinting hard as another wave of light hit your face. “I can’t even see where I am going. Might as well crash into a lamppost any moment.”

He glanced over at you and then paused. You were squinting so hard your entire face had scrunched up, brows furrowed, lips pressed together in mild frustration as you tried to navigate the street without walking into someone.

“Why did you have to drop your sunglasses in the airport toilet?”

“It was an accident!”, you defended yourself, still squinting. He chuckled, looking down at the floor, shaking his head. Then without saying anything, he reached up and pulled his cap off. You didn’t notice at first.

Not until his hand gently nudged yours away from your face. “Here”, he said. Before you could react he placed the cap on your head, adjusting it slightly so the brim shielded your eyes.

The world dimmed instantly. The harsh brightness softened, shadows settling comfortably over your vision. You blinked a couple of times, adjusting – then looked up at him.

“… Oh, wow I can actually see now.” Your fingers came up, lightly touching the brim, pulling it down just a little more. It still carried his warmth. He looked at you expectingly. “Better?”

“Yeah, much better.” You glanced at him again. “But what about you?”, you asked. “Now you’re the one without a cap.”

“I’ll survive.”

You stepped a little closer to him as you walked, your shoulder brushing his. After a moment, your hand found his again. He didn’t say anything, just intertwined your fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Hey”, you added softly after a beat. “What?”

You adjusted the cap slightly, glancing up at him from under the brim. “Thanks.”

The café you had found was tucked along a corner, half shaded, half bathed in sunlight. Small tables spilled out onto the pavement, people already sitting with coffee and pastries, the low hum of conversation blending into something relaxed and effortless.

You slid into a seat outside, leaning back slightly. A waiter approached and you ordered quickly, coffee, fresh orange juice, pastries. Simple.

For a moment Jeongin just sat there, eyes fixed on you in a way that made you immediately suspicious. “What?”, you asked.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He tilted his head slightly, squinting like he was studying you. “I’m just wondering how you look so awake.”

“I am awake. Unlike you this morning.”

He ignored that, leaning forward a bit more, resting both elbows on the table now. His gaze softened slightly.

“You look pretty”, he said, like it just slipped out.

You froze for half a second.

“That was random.”

He blinked like he hadn’t even realized he said it out loud. “Was it?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged again, but there was a faint pink tint creeping up his ears now. “Just saying.”

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but you failed miserably. A small smile broke through anyway. You leaned forward now, trying to catch his eyes. “That was cute.”

“Drop it”, he mumbled, looking down, being all shy. You laughed softly just as you took another sip from your coffee. His eyes fell on the dates, that were still laying on the plate. “Eat some, you need to keep an eye on your iron.”

You looked at him in surprise. “Aw, that’s cute.”

“Yeah, your hands are ice.”

You shot him a “really?”-look, when you grabbed some dates, snacking on them. “It’s not my fault.”

“I know baby”, he said, pointing to the orange juice. „Also make sure to drink some juice, the vitamin C helps your body to absorb iron better.”

You tilted your head, looking at him confused. “What are you? A nutritionist? Why the hell do you know that?” He slid the glass of orange juice closer to you. “No I am just making sure you’re staying healthy. Now drink.”

You laughed, nudging his foot under the table. “Ok I am going to keep that in mind.”

Standing in front of Sagrada Familia, you stopped completely. You tilted your head back, taking in the towering structure, the intricate details, the way it seemed to stretch endlessly into the sky. “It looks beautiful”, you mumbled, taking in the building, taking it all in.  He looked immersed by it as well, his eyes trying to soak up everything. He glanced up, before looking back at you again. “It is really impressive.

When you went inside, the noise of the city faded the moment you stepped though the doors, replaced by a quiet that felt almost heavy. Not necessarily uncomfortable – just still. Like the air itself was holding something. And then you looked up.

Light poured through the stained glass windows in color that didn’t feel real – blue, red, green – spilling across the massive columns and the floor below. It shifted as you moved.

“Whoa”, you whispered. Your voice sounded small in comparison. Jeongin stopped walking too, his gaze lifting slowly this time, properly taking it in. “Whoa”, he repeated your words mesmerized.

You stepped forward slowly, almost careful, like moving too fast might somehow break the moment. The light brushed across your face, soft color catching in your hair, your skin glowing faintly under it.

Jeongin’s eyed lingered on your again.

You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in everything around you. Your eyes moved from one detail to another, trying to take it all in at once. “it feels unreal”, you said softly. “Yeah”, he replied.

But his voice was quieter now. Closer. You turned your head slightly – and realized he had stepped right behind you. Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him at your back. “When did you-“

His hand found yours before you could finish. Fingers sliding between yours. You looked down at your joined hands for a second, then back up. Neither of you said anything. You just stood there, in the middle of the vast space. After a moment you leaned back just slightly, until your shoulder brushed against his chest.

He adjusted instantly, his free hand coming up to rest lightly at your waist, steadying you without thinking. Your breath hitched, just a little.

“You’re being quiet”, you murmured.

“Hm.”

His chin dipped slightly, just enough that his voice was closer to your ear now. “I am just looking.”

“At the building?”

“… Sure.”

You smiled faintly. Slowly you turned in his hold, still not pulling your hand away from his. Now you were facing him. Your fingers tightened slightly around his. “It’s really beautiful”, you said softly.

His hand shifted slightly, brushing your thumb with his. “You wanna go to our next stop?”

Later at Park Güell, everything felt more alive. The colors, sunlight, the durve of the architecture.

“This is the garden I told you about”, you said.

“The famous one?”

“Yes. The important one.”

He looked around, taking It in. You wandered slowly, stopping to take pictures, occasionally bumping into each other, never really separating. At the overlook you both paused. The city stretched out beneath you, the sea visible in the distance.

A breeze passed through, lifting your hair slightly. Without thinking, he reached up, tucking it behind your ear. “We should go to the beach later. It looks beautiful from up here. I can’t imagine how it looks up close.”

You nuzzled into his touch, nodding. “Yeah we should.”

You continued walking: Bright mosaics, broken tiles pieced together into patterns that curved and flowed along the benches and railings. You slowed your steps, your eyes moving from one detail to another. You leaned forward slightly against a curved mosaic bench, resting your hands on it as you took in the view at another lookout. The tiles were warm under your palms from the sun.

Jeongin shifted closer beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. “Careful”, he said quietly, placing a hand lightly at your lower back. “Don’t lean too far.”

“I am not going to jump, chill.”

“I didn’t say that you would intentionally jump, but you do know that you are kind of … clumsy.”

Your head flung to his side, looking at him in disbelief. You opened your mouth, but then you realized how true that statement was and you quickly closed it again, breaking the eye contact. You heard him hum in satisfaction as you leaned into his touch.

The sun had already started to dip lower by the time you left the park, the warmth of the day slowly softening into something gentler. The golden light stretched across the city, paint everything in warmer tones.

You wandered down quieter streets, past small shops and open windows where music drifted out into the evening air. At one point you stopped for ice cream, sharing bites, arguing over flavors like it was something serious. At another, you ducked into a tiny bookstore just to cool down, flipping through pages without really reading, just enjoying the stillness.

As evening settled in, the air cooled just enough to feel refreshing against your skin and the sky turned soft shaded of pink and orange before slowly fading into blue.

“Still up for the beach?”, he glanced over at you. You nodded immediately. “Of course.”

Getting there felt different now. The noise dimmed down to a distant hum, the streets were calmer. By the time you reached the shoreline, the sky had darkened completely, the horizon still holding onto a faint trace of light where the sun had disappeared.

The sea stretched out endlessly in front of you, dark and quiet, waves rolling in with a soft, steady rhythm. You slipped off your shoes first, holding them in one hand as your feet sank slightly into the sand. “It’s colder than I expected”, you said, glancing back at him.

He looked at you for a second, coming closer, taking off his shoes as well. Then his hand found yours, gently pulling you forward another step. The water rose around your feet again, higher this time, the chill sharper – but after a second it settled into something oddly refreshing.

You let out a small laugh, actually enjoying that feeling. “Alright, maybe it’s nice.”

He hummed in satisfaction as you just watched the water. The faint reflection of the sky on its surface, the quiet movements of the waves, the distant sound of the city behind you.

Then you felt him move closer. His arm slid around you from behind, slow and natural, wrapping around your waist. The warmth of him contrasted instantly with the cool water around your feet. He pulled you gently back against him, your back resting against his chest.

Your hands came up to rest over his, fingers slightly tracing over them as you leaned into his hold. It was quiet for a moment. The world felt quiet in that moment.

He shifted slightly, his chin brushing near your temple before he leaned in. His lips pressed softly against your cheek, lingering there for a second longer than necessary. A small breath escaped you. His hold tightened just a little, pulling you closer, like he didn’t want even the slightest space between you.

“You’re cold”, he murmured softly. Your fingers curled slightly from the temperature of the water, as he gently rubbed his hands against yours to create some heat. “Should we get out?”, he added, his breath fanning over your ear.

“No”, you said softly. “It’s nice being here, it’s so calm”, you sighed, closing your eyes, letting it sink in. You were in Barcelona with your favorite person. “You happy?”, he whispered, now leaning his chin on your shoulder, his lips ghosting over your cold skin.

“Yeah, I feel … content as well. I don’t know when it was the last time I felt like this.”

He didn’t answer right away. For a moment, he just stayed like that – his arms around you, chin resting on you, his breath warm against your skin. Like he was taking in your words, turning them over quietly in his mind.

Then his fingers tightened ever so slightly around yours.

“I get that”, he said softly.

His thumbs kept moving over your hands, slow and absentminded, like he was trying to warm you up without even thinking about it. The contrast between the cold water and his touch made your skin tingle.

„You’ve been smiling all day”, he added after a beat, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “It was nice seeing you like that. You seemed so … carefree.”

You let out a quiet huff of a laugh, eyes still closed. “Were you analyzing me?”

“Maybe.”

That made your eyes open. You turned your head just slightly, enough to glance at him from the corner of your eye. “I don’t know if I should find that creepy or thoughtful.”

He brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “I just notice things.”

There was something about the way he said it – so casual, but so certain.

The waves rolled in again, brushing higher this time, soaking the edges of your pants. You barely reacted.

“You deserve to feel like this more often”, he continued quietly. “Not just on trips. Not just sometimes.” Your fingers tightened around his. The words settled somewhere deep, heavier than they sounded.

“I don’t want to sound cheesy, but you make me feel like that. You make me feel happy and carefree.” His grip shifted, one of his hands leaving yours just for a second before coming up to gently turn your face a little more toward him.

“Hey”, he said softly. You hummed in response. “Look at me.”

Even in the dim light you could see his expression – softer than usual, his eyes steady on yours.

“I am going to make sure to keep it that way. I promise.”

Then he leaned in again. This time his lips didn’t land on your cheek. They brushed yours – slow, gentle.

Your hand slipped from his, moving up to his wrist instead, holding onto them as you leaned back into the kiss. It stayed soft. And when he pulled back, it wasn’t far. His forehead rested lightly against yours, his breath still warm, mixing with yours. “Still cold?”, he whispered. You smiled faintly, shaking your head just a little.

“Hey, hey, hey”, he murmured, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Burying your face into him, your arms wrapped around his body as well, holding onto for dear life. He drew comforting circles on your back, not saying anything. He just held you there, knowing exactly that’s what you needed in that moment.

“I need you to take some deep breaths, ok?”, he whispered, taking a deep breath himself to encourage you to do it. You took a deep breath and it was only then when you realized that you hadn’t taken a proper breath in minutes. “That’s it, good job”, he praised, his hand now cradling the back of your head, slowly caressing it.

He gently placed his hands on your cheek, slowly detaching your face from his chest and looked at you with sad eyes. His thumb slowly brushed over your cheek. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”, he asked softly, already grabbing your forearms to gently guide you to the couch, seating you there.

His eyes didn’t leave you as he sat down next to you. His hand quickly found the apple of your cheek, softly pinching you, which made you laugh. A smile tugged on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, looking at you expectingly. Not pushing, just signaling that he was there for you.

“Ugh, I don’t know. It’s stupid. Work was just a bitch. I don’t know why I let it get to me. I just want this day to be over. I actually never wanna go back. I just wanna quit and never talk to people again.”

He nodded, emphasizing with you, when you continued to tell him the details. His hand drew reassuring circles on your arm, showing you his support. When you finally finished, you somehow felt better. “I am sorry, I know other people have bigger problems and here I am complaining about such trivial things”, you murmured at the end, looking down at your fingers that rested on your lap.

“Hey”, he said softly, your chin now in between his finger that gently forced you to look at him. “That doesn’t mean that you should play down your own feelings. You’re allowed to feel that way.” He now placed his hand on your cheek and you nuzzled into it. “You always know what to say”, you muttered, leaving a kiss on the inside of his hand.

He smiled gently at you, pulling you on his lap and engulfed you in a complete body hug, immediately warming you. “Now rest a bit. Tomorrow is going to be a better day. I am sure of that.”

Lee Know

To say you were sad was an understatement. You were actually devasted. The fight that you had that day with your best friend was still lingering in your head. It was the biggest one you ever had in your friendship and it felt like you could never repair it. Normally you would go to said friend to complain bitterly, but you couldn’t – and that made you even sadder.

You were sitting at the table in the kitchen, your phone in front of you, subliminally waiting for a message of that friend, but the display stayed black. You could’ve also reached out but in that moment you were too mad to talk.

You heard the door slamming shut and your eyes found the front door. Minho entered your apartment, his hair messed up by the wind outside. He didn’t notice you at first, while he dropped his bag and slipped out of his shoes, but when he lifted his head and noticed your sad eyes, his stopped in his tracks.

He was by your side within seconds. “Who do I need to fight?”, he said with a straight face and normally you would chuckle at his remark, but you were too down. Slowly he kneeled down in front of you, his hand quickly finding your thigh. “Jagiya, what happened?”, he asked – his voice now softer as he searched your face.

You opened your mouth, but quickly closed it, not knowing what to say. He waited for a couple of seconds patiently, giving your knee a gentle squeeze. “I guess … I just need a hug?” It came out like a question, but he immediately knew. Without saying another word, he got up, pulling you off the chair to wrap his arms around you.

He leaned his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling into your skin and you immediately felt how the weight on your shoulders got lighter. It felt so good being in his arms, knowing there was someone there. His hands stayed firmly around you – it felt like he was pulling you even closer and you just closed your eyes, fully enjoying that moment.

“Do you feel a bit better now?”, he murmured against your skin and you nodded weakly. “A bit. Amazing, what a Minho hug can do”, you replied and you felt him softly chuckling against you. His body vibrated and you couldn’t help but laugh as well.

He let go off you, but his arms were still on your shoulders. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and rest a bit? I’ll be right with you, ok?”, he said, pressing his lips on your forehead and gently guided you to the sofa in your living room.

You slowly dragged yourself to the living room, letting yourself fall onto the soft cushions, not asking what Minho was up to. You laid there face down, questioning your entire existence.

“Can you even breathe like that?”, you heard his voice say and you lifted your head to look at him. He looked at you with his eyebrows raised. A mug in his hands. That was steaming. You lifted your body, now sitting properly on the sofa. He sat down next to you, handing you the mug which turned out to be hot chocolate. Carefully you took a sip and felt how the warm fluid went down your pipe and it felt almost as good as his hug earlier.

“So, do I need to fight someone?”, he asked again, resting his elbow on a cushion, looking at you expectingly and you shook your head. “I had a really bad fight with my best friend and … I feel like we are not going to be able to fix it. Like ever.”

He blinked a couple of times. “Was it that bad?” You then continued to explain the whole story and he listened to you attentively. He didn’t interrupt you once. His facial expression stayed serious, his normally sarcastic manner gone.

“Hey”, he nudged you softly. “You’ve been friends for so many years. You’re going to make up, I am sure of that.” He squeezed your hand. “Give it some time. It sounds like you two were pretty winded up. Then talk to each other, I can guarantee you, it’s going to be ok again.”

His words actually helped to make you feel better. “You think so?”

He nodded reassuringly. “100%.”

Changbin

You sat curled up on the far end of the couch, your kneels pulled to your chest and your phone clutched tightly in both hands. The apartment was quiet except for the soft hum of rain tapping against the windows. Normally you loved rainy evenigs, but tonight the sound made everything feel heavier. Your eyes stayed fixed on your phone screen, rereading the same text from your mom over and over again.

They admitted your aunt this afternoon. They’re still running tests.

You swallowed hard, trying not to cry again.

Changbin walked through the door, coming back from a long studio session. “Hey, I brought us some food, I hope you’re hun-“. He stopped in his tracks when he saw your state and didn’t waste a second to come to you, after he quickly shut the door behind. “Hey” he said gently, setting the food on the table and sitting down next to you. “What happened?”

You shook your head quickly like you didn’t want to talk about it, but Changbin could already see the shine in your eyes. “Baby.”

Your lips trembled. “It’s my aunt”, you whispered. “They took her to the hospital this afternoon.” His expression softened immediately. He knew how much your aunt meant to you. You talked about her constantly – how she used to bake you cakes for your birthday, how she gave you the best advice.

“She’s my favorite person”, you said, voice cracking. “And I hate that she’s there alone right now.”

He reached for your hand. “Did the doctors say anything?”

“They’re still running tests.” You wiped at your face angrily. “I just, I don’t know. I am scared.”

For a moment neither of you spoke. Then you let out a shaky breath and looked at him with watery eyes. “I need a hug.”

Without saying anything, he simply opened his arms. The second you leaned into him, you broke apart completely. Your face buried against his chest as quiet sobs shook through your body. He held you tightly, one hand rubbing slow circles against your back while the other rested protectively in your hair.

“It’s ok, I got you”, he murmured softly. You clung to him like you were afraid to let go. “She always takes care of everyone”, you whispered. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.” He rested his chin lightly against the top of your head. “She is in good hands now, ok? Everything is going to be ok.”

He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around both of you. “She is lucky to have someone who loves her this much.”

You stayed tucked against him for a long time. Slowly your breathing steadied. The tightness in your chest eased just enough for you to breathe again, though your chest still ached.

Changbin pulled back, just enough to look at you properly. His thumb brushed gently under your eyes, wiping away tears. “Have you eaten today?”

You gave a weak shake of your head. “Okay”, he exhaled softly, reaching for the takeout bag. “I brought your favorite soup from that place near the studio. And dumplings.” He offered you a small smile. “Come on. Eat something warm, maybe you’ll feel a little better.”

You sniffled softly as he opened the containers, steam immediately rising into the air. The small alone made something unclench faintly inside you. Changbin handed you the soup first. “You don’t have to deal with this alone either”, he said gently. “Okay?”

Your eyes stung again, but this time the tears felt softer somehow. You leaned against him while taking a small sip of the soup. Warmth spread through your chest almost immediately. Changbin smiled faintly when he noticed.

“Better?”

“A little”, you admitted quietly.

He kissed the top of your head before pulling you closer underneath the blanket again.

Hyunjin

You stared at the glowing screen of your laptop like maybe the words would change if you looked long enough.

Final Exam Result: Failed

Your stomach dropped all over again. “No”, you whispered under your breath, quickly refreshing the page even though you already knew it wouldn’t make a difference. The same result appeared.

You felt stick to your stomach. Weeks of studying, late nights, endless notes spread across your desk – and none of it had been enough. Your chest tightened painfully as embarrassment crawled up your throat. You knew people failed exams all the but but right now it felt like the end of the world.

You closed the laptop so hard the sound echoed through the apartment.

A few minutes later, the front door opened.

“Baby, I am home!” Hyunjin called out.

Usually you would’ve anwered immediately, but this time you stayed curled up the kitchen table, your face hidden in your arms. Hyunjin noticed the silence right away. He walked into the kitchen carrying two iced coffees and froze when he saw you. “Hey”, he said softly, setting the drinks down. “What happened?”

You shook your head without looking up. “Hey.” His voice got gentler as he crouched beside your chair. “Talk to me.”

Your eyes burned.

“I failed”, you whispered. Hyunjin frowned slightly. “Failed what?

“My exam.” Your voice cracked immediately. “The final one I told you about.”

For a second he said nothing, waiting patiently while you tried not to cry. But the moment he placed hand on your back, you broke. “I studied so hard”, you said shakily, tears spilling down your face. “I barely slept for weeks, Jin. I thought I did okay and still failed.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m so stupid”, you mumbled.

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true-“

“It’s not.” His voice was firm but soft. “Failing one exam does not make you stupid.”

You looked away, wiping your face angrily. “Everyone else passed.”

“And?”, he asked gently. “That doesn’t change how hard you worked.”

“It should’ve been enough.”

Youre breathing shook again as tears continued falling. You clenched your hands in the fabric of your hoddie before whispering quietly, almost embarrassed by how small your voice sounded.

“I need a hug.”

His expression softened instantly. “Come here, baby.”

He wrapped both arms tightly around you without hesitation, one hand rubbing slow circles against your back while the other cradled the back of your head. The warmth of him made the tight pressure in your chest crack apart completely.

“You’re not a failure”, he murmured. “You hear me?”

You just nodded against him. After a while he guided you toward the couch. He sat down first and pulled you beside him, letting you lean against his shoulder while he kept an ar securely around you.

“You know what I see?”, he asked.

“A failure?”

He lightly pinched your side in protest, making you groan weakly. “I see someone who pushed herself until she was exhausted because she cared that much”, he said. “I see someone who stayed up memorizing notes at three in the morning while I begged her to sleep.”

Despite yourself, you let out a tiny laugh.

“See? There she is.” Hyunjin smiled softly. “Baby, one bad result can’t erase all the amazing things about you.

You stared quietly at your hands. “It just feels horrible.”

“I know.” He got up and grabbed one of the iced coffees he brought home. “I got your usual order”, he said, handing it to you.

You accepted it, your fingers cold against the cup.

“You’re allowed to be upset”, he said quietly. “Cry about it tonight if you need to. But tomorrow? We figure it out together.”

You looked at him finally. “Together?”

“Of course.” He brushed your hair back gently. “Retake the exam, ask for help, made a new study plan - whatever happens, I'm staying right here.”

He pulled you closer until your head rested against his shoulder. “No matter what, I will always be proud of you.”

Han

You were curled up in bed with a heating pad pressed against your stomach, the blankets tangled around your legs as another painful cramp twisted though your abdomen. “God”, you groaned quietly, squeezing your eyes shut.

Your period cramps had been awful all day, the kind that made your whole body ache and drained every bit of energy from you. Even moving felt exhausting. You had tried tea, painkillers, stretching – nothing was helping enough.

The apartment door clicked open in the distance followed by familiar footsteps. “Baby?”, Jisung called. “You awake?”

“Hmhmmm”, you answered weakly. A moment later he appeared in the doorway carrying a plastic convenience store bag in one hand. The second he saw your miserable expression, his face dropped with concern.

“Oh no”, he said sympathetically, immediately setting the bag down. “Bad cramps?”

You nodded slowly, clutching your stomach tighter. “Really bad.”

He crossed the room and sat carefully on the edge of the bed beside you. His hand brushed gently across your hair before resting against your forehead dramatically. “You look like you’re fighting for your life.”

You let out a weak laugh. “When I tell you – I am.” Another cramp hit and you immediately curled inward with a quiet whine. Jisung frowned deeply.

You stared at him for a moment before your eyes started stinging unexpectedly. Maybe it was the hormones, the pain or the exhaustion but suddenly you felt like crying. He noticed immediately.

“Hey”, he said softly. “What’s wrong?”

Your voice came smaller than intended.

“I need a hug.”

His expression softened even more.

Without hesitation he climbed fully into bed beside you, careful not to crush you and pulled you into his chest, making sure not to jostle your heating pad. One arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other rubbed soothingly up and down your back.

The second you melted against him some of the tension in your body eased. His hoodie smelled faintly like laundry detergent and the cold evening air outside. “These cramps are evil”, you mumbled against him. He snorted softly. “I already hate them for hurting you.”

You let out another tiny laugh before groaning again as a cramp twisted through you. “Ok, nope”, he said immediately. He adjusted the blankets around you before reaching for the convenience store bag he brought earlier. “I came prepared”, he announced proudly.

You blinked tiredly as he pulled things out one by one: pain relief patches, chocolate and you favorite instant soup cups. Your eyes widened slightly. “You bought all that?”

“Of course I did. You’re suffering.” He poked your cheek gently. “Eat something warm, maybe you’ll feel a little better.”

“I don’t wanna move.”

“You don’t need to.”

He got up long enough to prepare the soup. When he returned, he handed it to you carefully before climbing back into bed beside you. You took a small sip, the warmth instantly soothing. He watched you closer. “Better?”

“A little.”

He hummed in satisfaction, as you leaned back against him again. Almost immediately his arms wrapped around you once more, holding you close while his fingers traced comforting circles over your side. “Thank you”, you whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“You never have to thank me for taking care of you.”

You stayed tucked against him, the warmth from the soup and his body slowly making the pain feel a little less unbearable. Jisung kept rubbing slow circles against your belly, patient and gentle like he knew exactly how much comfort you needed without saying anything.

Another cramp made you wince quietly. “Still hurts?”, he asked softly. “Mhm.”

He frowned before carefully adjusting the heating pad against your stomach. “If I could fight your cramps for you, I would.”

You laughed weakly at that, your nose brushing against his hoodie. “You’d lose.”

“YAH”, he gasped dramatically. “I’m very strong.” You finally smiled properly and his expression softened immediately when he saw it. “There she is”, he murmured quietly, kissing your forehead again while holding you even closer.

Felix

The credits rolled quietly across the TV screen while soft piano music filled the apartment. You stared blankly at the screen, trying to process the ending you had just watched. Your chest felt painfully tight, tears still clinging to your lashes even though the movie had been over for a couple of minutes.

Beside you Felix turned his head.

“Hey, are you crying?”

You wiped under your eyes quickly. “No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Angel, your entire face is wet.”

“That movie was emotionally devastating”, you defended, voice wobbling. “I could actually scream, cry, throw up. Why would they end it like that?”

Felix let out a laugh, though it softened the second he noticed you genuinely looked upset. His expression melted into concern mixed with fond amusement. “Oh”, he said quietly. “You’re really heartbroken over this.

“You’re not?”, you asked in disbelief “They were literally soulmates.”

He tried to hold back another smile. “Baby, it’s a movie.

“That doesn’t make it less traumatic.”

Quietly you looked at him with watery eyes. “I need a hug.” The teasing disappeared from his face instantly. “Oh come here, my angel.”

The opened his arms without hesitation and the second you moved into them he pulled you tightly against his chest. One hand slid into your hair while the other rubbed slowly up and down your back in soothing motions.

“They were supposed to grow old together”, you sobbed as your lip trembled again. He hummed in agreement. “You’re right, the world can be cruel.”

Another tear slipped down your cheek and he reached over your shoulder to grab the remote and pause the autoplay. You buried your face against his hoodie dramatically. “I can’t believe they died.”

Felix pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re taking this very personally.”

“It was tragic.”

He chuckled quietly while continuing to hold you close. His chest vibrated warmly beneath your cheek, which had an almost comforting effect on you. His oversized hoodie smelled just like … him.

“Maybe we should watch cartoons after this? Maybe this could cheer you up?”, he suggested, while squishing his cheek against your head. You let out a small laugh. “Probably.”

“And snacks”, he added immediately. You sniffled again. “That sounds good.”

Felix gasped softly like he had just remembered something important. “Wait right here.”

You blinked as he carefully untangled himself form you before disappearing into the kitchen. A few seconds later you heard cabinets opening followed by a very triumphant “Oh yes.”

When he returned his arms were full. Chocolate bars. Gummy candy. Chips. Cookies. You stared at him, not quite believing your eyes. “Why do you have all that? Do we have a secret candy shop that I don’t know of?”

He chuckled softly as he dropped everything onto the coffee table. “Angel”, he said seriously. “I always kep an emergency snack ration in the kitchen for situations that require it.”

You laughed weakly. “Situations like what?”

“Emotional devastation.” He started counting on his fingers. “Sad movies, bad days, existential crises. There are many possibilities.”

Your chest warmed despite the lingering sadness from the movie. “You’re amazing, do you know that?” Now you smiled properly for the first time since the movie ended. Felix noticed immediately and softened. “There she is”, he murmured quietly.

You opened the chocolate while leaning back into his side again, immediately being pulled against hic chest like he never intended to let go for long. For a while it got quiet, the apartment stayed warm and silent. Felix absentmindedly played with your hair while cartoons started playing on the TV instead.

After a few minutes, you sighed dramatically. “I still think they deserved better.”

Felix nodded solemnly. “Absolutely.”

“And I am emotionally damaged forever now.”

“That’s why I bought extra snacks.”

You laughed again, the sound muffled against his shoulder. “Don’t worry, we are going to watch many many cartoons until you forget about the movie. No matter how many it’s going to be.”

Seungmin

Your apartment was painfully quiet. Sitting curled up on the couch with your knees pulled to your chest you stared blankly at the untouched cup of tea on the coffee table. The argument you had with Seungmin this morning kept replaying in your head no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself.

It was such a stupid fight over something trivial – totally unnecessary.

He had been stressed from work, you had been exhausted from barely sleeping and somehow a stupid conversation about forgotten groceries had turned into both of you snapping at each other harder than intended. Neither of you had yelled, but the disappointed look on his face when he left that morning had stayed with you all day.

You hated fighting with him so much.

The sound of keys at the front door made your stomach twist immediately. A second later Seungmin stepped inside the apartment, looking just as tired as you felt. His eyes found you almost instantly sitting on the couch, still in the oversized hoodie you had stolen from him weeks ago.

For a moment you just looked at each other, without saying a word. The tension almost cutting the air.

“Hey”, he said softly after a couple of seconds, his eyes softening at the sad expression on your face. Your throat tightened immediately. “Hey.”

He hesitated for a second before setting his bag down by the door. You could tell he was nervous too, which made your chest ache even more. Seungmin slowly walked closer. “You didn’t answer my texts. You looked down at your hands guilty. “I didn’t know what to say.”

Another silence settled between you. You hated this. You hated feeling distant from him.

Seungmin sighed quietly and rubbed the back of his neck. “About this morning-“

“I’m sorry”, you blurted out immediately. He blinked. “What?”

“I’m sorry”, you repeated shakily, tears already stinging in your eyes. “I know I was being insensitive and I shouldn’t have snapped at you and I’ve literally been feeling horrible about it all day.”

His expression softened even more now the second your voice cracked.

“Hey …”

You looked away quickly, embarrassed by the tears suddenly falling down your cheeks. “I know it was stupid”, you whispered. “I hate it so much when we fight.”

The second he saw you crying any remaining tension on his face disappeared completely. He crossed the room quickly and knelt in front of the couch. “Hey”, he said gently. “Look at me.” You shook your head stubbornly. “No, I look ugly when I cry.”

That earned the tiniest laugh from him. “No, you’re beautiful. Even when you cry. Even though I prefer it when you smile.” You scoffed softly, before he reached up to wipe under your eyes with his thumb.

“I’m not mad at you”, he said quietly. “I was stressed too. I shouldn’t have been short with you this morning. And I am so sorry for that as well. I am sorry, that I made you feel this way.”

You stared at him for a moment before your chest tightened all over again.

“I’ve been sad all day”, you admitted quietly. “I kept thinking maybe you were still upset with me.” His face immediately melted with guilt. “Oh, baby.”

You finally looked at him properly, tears clinging to your lashes again.

“I need a hug.”

He didn’t waste a second. He stood up immediately and pulled you in his arms, wrapping them tightly around you the second you buried your face against his chest. One hand slid into your hair while the other rubbed slowly across your back. “It’s okay. We’re okay”, he assured your softly.

You held onto the back of his hoodie tightly while he continued holding you like he never wanted to let go. You let out a shaky breath as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. “I don’t like being upset, the whole day felt wrong.”

You sniffled weakly. “It did.”

For a while, you just stayed like that. Eventually he leaned back just enough to look at you properly. “Let me treat you for some dinner”, he said seriously. You smiled softly at him and placed your hand on his neck, squeezing it gently. “How about Italian?”

I.N.

Rain hammered loudly against the apartment windows while thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance, deep enough to make the floor vibrate faintly beneath your feet. Another flash of lighting lit up the living room for half a second. You immedediately flinched.

From the kitchen Jeongin looked up from where he had been making tea. “That one was loud.”

You tried to act normal, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself on the couch. “Mhm.”

The storm had gotten worse over the last hour. What started as soft rain had turned into heavy wind rattling the windows and sharp cracks of thunder that made your chest jump every single time. You hated thunderstorms so much.

Ever since you were little, storms made you anxious no matter how irrational it felt. Usually you tried hiding it, embarrassed by how easily thunder unsettled you, but tonight the storm sounded close enough to shake the entire building.

Lighting flashed again – a second later a violent crack of thunder echoed outside and you physically jolted. Jeongin immediately turned around fully this time.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine”, you answered too quickly. Another rumble sounded outside. You were absolutely not fine.

Jeongin abandoned the tea instantly and walked toward the couch, his expression softening the closer he got. “You’re scared.”

You shook your head automatically. “I’m not scared, I just don’t like loud noises.”

Thunder boomed again, louder this time, somehow closer. Your whole body tensed underneath the blanket. Jeongin’s face dropped in concern. “Oh, baby.”

You looked down in embarrassment. “I know it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” He sat beside you on the couch, close enough that your shoulders touched. “Storms can be scary.”

You stared at your hands quietly while rain continued slamming against the windows. Another flash lit up the room. Your voice cam out much smaller this time.

“I need a hug.”

He didn’t hesitate for a second before spreading his arm, motioning for you to come closer. “Come here.”

He pulled you against his chest the moment you leaned into him. One arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders while the other rested protectively against the back of your head. “I got you, you’re safe, okay?”, he murmured softly.

Another loud crack of thunder shook outside, but this time instead of jumping away from the sound, you buried yourself closer against him. Jeongin held you tighter automatically. “You know”, he said quietly after a moment. “When I was younger I used to hide under blankets during storms too.”

You untangled yourself from him, so you could look at his face, his arms were still around you. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded seriously. “Convinced myself lighting was specifically targeting me.” Despite your anxious state, a tiny laugh escaped you. A smile tugged at his lips, happy to see some of the tension vanishing from your face.

Rain continued pouring outside while he absentmindedly rubbed slow circles against your back. His hoodie was warm from the dryer and smelled faintly like fabric softener, comforting enough that the panic loosened its grip on your chest.

When another flash of lighting appeared through the windows, you instinctively grabbed onto his sleeve tighter. Jeongin reached for the remote and turned the TV volume up slightly, letting soft music and quiet voices fill the apartment instead of just thunder.

“There”, he murmured. “Better?”

“A little.”

He pressed a gentle kiss against the top of your head. “I have another idea to make the situation more comfortable.”

You looked at him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

His eyes lit up immediately. “Blanket fort.”

You smiled at him. “In the middle of a thunderstorm?”

“Especially during a thunderstorm”, he said seriously. Another rumble echoed outside, but it didn’t feel quiet as overwhelming anymore while he held you.

He laid on his side, popped up on one elbow, watching you with a look that was far too entertained for someone who hadn’t done anything yet.

“You’re really sleeping through that?”, he murmured lowly, glancing briefly toward the window. Then he looked back at you, a slow grin forming. “Alright”, he whispered. “Let’s wake you up.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, fingertips lingering just slightly longer than necessary.

Nothing.

He exhaled quietly through his nose. “Seriously?”

The rain tapped steadily against the window. You still didn’t move. He leaned closer.

“Hey.” He poked your cheek.

Still nothing.

He paused, then nodded to himself like he’d reached a decision. “Ok, now we need to escalate.” He put his index finger into his mouth, wetting it and inserted it into your ear. You flinched instantly. “What-“, you mumbled, still half asleep, pulling the blanket up instinctively. He looked at – being all satisfied.

“Good morning.”

“No”, you groaned, turning away from him. “Absolutely not.”

He moved with you.

Now he opted for a kiss on your temple. Then on your jaw. “You said we’d wake up early”, he reminded you. You made a small, miserable sound into the pillow. “That was past me. I don’t know her.”

You tried to bury yourself deeper into the blanket, but he was already one step ahead – his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you back toward him before you could escape completely. “Get up”, he murmured, far too amused.

You turned your head slightly, cracking one eye open just enough to glare at him. “You’re evil. A menace to society.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?” He chuckled against your skin. “Absolutely.”

You closed your eyes again. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

Then in one sudden movement he rolled closer and hooked an arm around you, pulling you halfway onto him while simultaneously stealing the blanket away.

“Hey!”, you protested weakly. “We are getting up now!”, he decided and almost threw you out of bed. Now you were sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes still half closed. “You know what? Payback is a bitch”, you threatened, but he just laughed, stood up and grabbed your hand to pull you out of bed. “Whatever, London is waiting for us.”

Cool air, slightly crisp, brushing against your face in a way that made you immediately wake whether you liked it or not – that was how London greeted you that day. The sky hung low and pale, clouds drifting lazily and the streets were still wet from the rain.

“Ugh, it’s freezing”, you complained, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, snuggling into it, craving for more warmth. “And you said, you didn’t need a scarf. Well if this is not the consequences of your own actions”, Seungmin commented, who walked beside you with his hands buried inside the pockets of his coat.

You shot him an evil look. “Seungmin, have I ever told you, how much I appreciate your very helpful comments?”

He looked down at you. “No.”

“Good.”

He shook his head, took off his own scarf and placed it around your neck. His warmth and scent immediately engulfed you – faint cologne, soft fabric and something unmistakably him that made the cold feel a little less important.

You blinked at him. “Wow. Did you do something … nice? Am I being a witness of some sort of … character development?”

A little pf escaped his lips. “Don’t get used to it.”

You adjusted the scarf slightly, pulling it closer around your face anyway.

The pavement was slightly damp, reflecting the soft glow of streetlights above. It wasn’t raining anymore, but the air still held that lingering chill that stuck to everything. You walked side by side and at some point he wordlessly grabbed your hand, warming it with his own. You squeezed it, a silent thank you.

Then he stopped in front a little café, his gaze finding you. “We better get you something to eat or else you are going to insufferable the whole day.” You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hand tighter than comfortable, until he grimaced in pain. “Ow, ow, ow – stop, that hurts. Ok, ok, I take that back. I am going to buy you whatever you want”, he pleaded and you smiled in satisfaction as you let go of his hand and entered the café, Seungmin following behind, while massaging his throbbing hand.

The café was small, tucked between buildings, slightly hidden from the main street – the smell of coffee drifting out even before you stepped inside. Inside it was warm. The kind of warm that settled into your bones after being out in cool air. Soft chatter filled the space, cups clinking, the low hum of conversation blending into something comforting.

You slid into a seat by the window. He sat opposite you, already handing you the menu, insisting on you to take a look first. “Ok I know, what I am going to order.” You handed him the menu back, but he just put it back onto the table. “I am going to take the same as you.” “You don’t even know yet, what I am going to order.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t want to waste any brain capacity on deciding what I’d like to order.”

You tilted your head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“To me it does.”

“What if you don’t like what I ordered?”

“Then I’d need to execute you.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You blinked at him a couple of times. “You are weird today. More than usual.”

He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? Just yeah?”

“Don’t wanna waste any brain capacity on a counterattack.”

“Seungmin, oh my go-“, you were interrupted by the waiter, wanting to take your order. You cleared your throat, ordering your breakfast. “Baked Beans, Toast and Sausages. Lovely”, he commented and poured you some water into your glass, before sliding it to your side, silently prompting you to drink it.

You leaned your elbows on the table, watching him while outside the window London slowly moved on – reflections stretching across wet pavement, the city still half washed in gray light.

A few minutes later, your food arrived.

Warm plates, steaming drinks – you were totally looking forward to your food, you were starving.

You took one bite and paused. “Yeah, this is some good stuff”, you moaned and Seungmin nodded, satisfied. “See? I saved your day. I chose this location.”

“What do you mean? You woke me up by violating my ear’s personal space.”

“And now you’re eating. Full circle.”

“Just shut up and eat your food”, you shook your head and tried to hide the smile that was forming on your lips. For a while, it was quiet. You wrapped your hands around your cup after a while, letting the warmth of the coffee sink into your fingers.  Then it hit you.

“Oh”, you said suddenly.

He looked up. “What?”

You took another sip, then leaned back, shoulders loosening.

“I feel alive again.”

He squinted at you. “You were dead five minutes ago?”

“Emotionally, yes.”

He shook his head, but there was the faintest hint of amusement on his face as he watched you sit up straighter, energy slowly returning.

“Coffee fixes everything”, you added.

“Not your attitude.”

“How about I stuff your mouth with the toast?”

He grabbed his fork, stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth. “Ok, calm down.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought”, you replied, eating the rest of the food, feeling more fueled now. “So, what’s our next stop?”

Big Ben was rising tall against the cloudy sky, its clock face unmistakable even from distance. “Wow it, really big”, your steps came to a step as your eyes followed the structure upward. Seungmin glanced at you, then at the tower. “It’s literally called Big Ben.”

“Can you not ruin this for five seconds?”

“Just being real.”

You took a closer look. “It feels important”, you added after a moment. He hummed. “Yeah, old things tend to feel like that.“ You turned your head slightly. “That was almost deep.”

“Yeah, don’t get used to it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your gaze drifted back to the tower. You took out your phone, snapped some pictures until his face appeared in front of your lens. It was practically glued to your camera. His boba eyes that you adored so much were shimmering mischievously, while you continued taking pictures with him in frame.

“You do know that I am taking pics of your double chin right now?”

He didn’t move – he didn’t even try. If anything, he leaned closer. “Make sure you get my good side.”

“You have no Good side.”

“You’re so mean.”

“You literally ruined my shot.”

“You were taking too long.”

He scoffed, trying to angle your phone around him, but he followed. Every time you shifted, he shifted with you. “Seungmin – move.”

“No.”

“I am serious”

“So am I.”

You lowered your phone slightly, glaring at him. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s funny.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Is is actually.”

You stared at him for another second, then suddenly flipped the camera – front camera.

“Wait-“

You leaned in instantly, pressing your cheek against his while snapping a picture. He froze for half a second, caught completely off guard. The photo captured it perfectly. Your grin, his mouth wide awake, eyes wide open, the Big Ben towering behind you like it was witnessing the whole thing.

You pulled back, already checking the photo. “Oh yes, that’s a good photo.” He leaned in over your shoulder, eyes scanning the screen. “Delete it.”

“No.”

“Why are you like this?”

You mocked his words from earlier. “Because it’s funny.”  He clicked his tongue, nodding. “Wow, I am actually impressed.” You let out a soft hum. “So would you now let me-“, you got interrupted when he reached up and squished your cheeks together. Your lips puckered instantly as he took out his phone and snapped a pic of your face.

You stared at him in disbelief, you words muffled. “Seungmin!”

“That’s a keeper”, he said glancing at the screen, completely satisfied. You immediately reached for his phone. “Give it to me!”

He just leaned back, holding it out of reach with one hand, while the other still had your cheeks trapped. “Relax”, he said, way too calm for someone actively ruining your dignity. You glared at him, lips still helplessly puckered from his grip.

And then, before you could protest, he leaned in. Still holding your cheeks, still forcing your lips into that ridiculous pout. And kissed you.

For a split second your brain just stopped, you were so caught off guard.

The kiss was short, barely more than a press of his lips against yours, but warm enough to completely throw you off balance. When he pulled back, his hands were still on your face for just a second longer before he finally let go.

You blinked at him.

“What the hell just happened?”

He looked completely unbothered. “You were already prepared.”

“Prepared?!! You forced my face like that!”

You brought your hands up to your face, still feeling the warmth lingering there – both from his hands and from the kiss.

“I hate you”, you muttered. He tsked, put his arm around your shoulder and softly guided you into another direction. “You could never hate me.”

From there, the walk continued. The city opened up as you moved closer to the Thames and soon you were standing in front of another familiar silhouette. Tower Bridge stretched across the water. You stopped again, taking in the view. He stepped beside you, hands back in his pockets, watching your reaction instead of the bridge. “You like it here”, he said. You looked up at him. “How could I not?”

You expected another clap back, but he unexpectedly he reached for your hand and laced your fingers together while you both looked at the bridge in silence. The river below moved steadily, carrying reflections of stone and sky.  

A couple of raindrops fell again, light and brief, just enough to dot the surface. You looked up. “Is it going to rain again?”, you asked. He tilted his head. “It’s London.” You dragged him to a roofed space, protecting you from the rain. Nevertheless, some raindrops still hit you. “Ugh, I should’ve brought an umbrella.”

Next to you Seungmin shifted. “You mean like that one?” And out of nowhere he pulled out a little umbrella out of his inner pocket. “What the hell Seungmin, when did you bring that?” He opened it, now holding it over both of your heads. “I am always prepared. You wouldn’t know.”

You swatted his chest, but still curled to his side, looking for a shield from the rain. “Have I already told you that I hate you?”, you murmured while you walked with him, his free hand now on your lower back. He chuckled softly. “You may have mentioned something like that today.”

By afternoon, the light turned warner at the edges, the rain had stopped. You were still near the river, looking out toward the distant curve of the London Eye slowly turning against the sky.

The glass capsule of the London Eye felt warmer than you expected the moment you stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind you with a quiet click. You instinctively moved closer to the window. “Oh, wow.” From up here, everything looked so small. The rain from earlier left a faint haze that made the skyline blur slightly at the edges

Seungmin, however, wasn’t looking at the view. He was looking at you.

The capsule shifted slightly as it began to rise higher, the movement smooth but noticeable enough to make you steady yourself against the railing. Immediately, his hand found your waist. “Careful”, he murmured, a little concerned. “Hey, I am fine”, you said softly and leaned into him. He stepped closer, wrapping both of his arms around your stomach from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder, while nuzzling into you.

In the reflection you could see him closing his eyes, completely calm. You glanced down briefly – the river far below, boats moving slowly across the water, the bridge you had just stood on now looking incredibly tiny from this height.

“Everything looks … so calm from up here”, you said quietly. “Yeah …”, he replied. “Unlike you this morning.”

Of course, he couldn’t stay serious for more than five minutes. “Really? You’re still on that?”

“I’m just saying”, he shrugged. “You were basically a corpse.”

“More like emotionally dead.”

“Physically too.”

You scoffed, lightly elbowing him, which left him quite unimpressed. He didn’t move much, just shifted closer again, his hand slightly from your waist to rest more comfortably at your side.

“No need to over exaggerate.”

His fingers hooked lightly under your chin, turning your face toward him. Not forceful – just enough that you had to look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking something.”

“For what?”

He tilted his head, studying your face for a second too long. “Yeah.”

“What?”

“You look better when you’re awake.”

You swatted his hand away, turning your face toward the view again, ignoring his comment. Sulking.

“Oh come on”, he laughed, pulling you closer to him. “Are you mad now?” Silence. “Ok, let me try again. You look a little less miserable like that.” Still silence. Now his lips were lightly hovering over your cheekbones. “How about: If I had to choose between a new coffee machine and you, I’d choose you?”

That was the trick.

You turned your face to him. “Did … did I hear you right? You would choose me over a new coffee machine?” He leaned in closer. “Hmm”, he nodded, like he was genuinely considering it. You narrowed your eyes at him. “You hesitated.”

“I didn’t. I’d always choose you. Always.” He leaned his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Ok, but I am still mad. A little less mad, but still mad.” He nodded like it was fair. Then, without warning he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss just beside your lips.

“If I treated you for dinner, would you forgive me?”

“Depends on how good the food is.”

By the time evening settled in, the sky darkened into deep blue, the city lights flickering to life one by one. The rain had returned – not heavy, just a soft drizzle tapping against the pavement.

The restaurant he led you to was different from the café earlier. It was bigger, livelier.

A host guided you to your table near the window. You sat down carefully, smoothing your jacket while glancing outside again – the lights and the movement of the city softened into something almost cinematic.

Dinner came slower than the rest of the day. Drinks first. Then food. Between that conversation that slipped between teasing and something softer without either of you pointing it out.

Later when the plates were mostly empty and the restaurant had grown quieter, he leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. “So”, he said.

“So?”, you echoed.

“Am I forgiven?”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your finger lightly against your glass. “The food was good, but the company was questionable.”

“Rude.”

You smiled. “But …”

He leaned in slightly. “Yeah?”

“I guess I’ll forgive you.”

“Guess?”

“Don’t push it.”

He exhaled softly, like he’d just won something. “Good.”

A small shift this time. Barely noticeable. He waited for a second, then moved again – this time pressing a gentle kiss just beside your eye, careful, slow like he didn’t want to wake you too quickly.

Then you stirred. Brows knitting slightly, a quiet hum of protest escaping you as you turned your face away just enough to escape the next one. But he still followed anyway.

“Hey”, he murmured softly into your ear, pressing his lips softly against the shell. You groaned faintly, still half asleep. “Nooooo.” He smiled against your skin, pressing another kiss to your cheek. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Hmm”, you hummed, but still chased for another kiss, puckering your lips, which made him chuckle and he happily obliged by finally capturing them. “We need to get up”, he informed you, sliding his hand across your waist to pull you closer against him. “No.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving featherlight kisses there, which tickled you. You made another small, annoyed sound – eyes still closed.

“You’re so-“

He cut you off with another soft kiss, softly humming. You blinked slowly, eyes finally opening just a little, still heavy with sleep. “You’re cheating!”

He nuzzled his nose affectionally against yours, before starting to pull the blanket off your body. You stared at him for a second, trying to stay annoyed, failing as your expression softened despite yourself. “You’re awake early”, you said quietly. “Home advantage.”

He leaned in again, slower this time, brushing his nose lightly against yours before pressing another soft kiss to your lips. “Come on”, he murmured against you. “I want to show you everything.” You exhaled slowly, your eyes shutting again, but your hands finding the back of his head, gently pulling on his hair. He groaned in satisfaction, but was quick to halt your hand. “I know what you are trying to do. It’s not going to work.” He took your hand and guided it to his lips, leaving a kiss there. You let out a quiet sigh, but didn’t pull away. “…Fine”, you mumbled.

It was your first full day in Sydney. You had arrived yesterday and immediately went back to his apartment to catch up on some sleep – but you were still jetlagged – so you made a firm resolution to make good use of your time here. Felix wanted to show you around Sydney and some stuff from his childhood as well.

The air carried something light – salt mixed with warmth, the kind of breeze that made everything feel a little less heavy. The streets were alive, but not overwhelming. Sydney was warm. Bright. Lively.

“Ok”, you said, looking around. “I get it now.”

He glanced at you. “Get what?”

“Why you wouldn’t stop talking about this place.”

He smiled faintly. “Come on, I didn’t talk that much.”

You nudged him playfully. “You actually did.”

You walked side by side, his hand brushing against yours until your fingers naturally intertwined. “So, Aussie boy, where are we going first?”

He looked ahead, then back at you. “Probably the most iconic sight in Sydney.” He led you toward the harbor, where the city opened up completely. And then suddenly it was there.

Sydney Opera House rising in sharp white sails against the blue sky and beyond it the massive arch of Sydney Harbour Bridge stretching across the water. You stopped walking. “..Okay, that’s actually insane.” He smiled softly at your reaction. “Yeah it is”, he agreed.

You stepped closer to the railing, taking in the view – the water moving slowly below, boats drifting across the harbor, sunlight reflecting in shifting patterns. “It looks like straight out of a book.” He stepped behind you, his hands grabbing yours over the railing and nuzzling into your back. “Yeah, I missed this.” You felt his breath warm through your shirt as he leaned into you, his chin brushing lightly against your shoulder.

“You missed the view?” A small pause followed. Then, quieter: “Everything.”

Something in the way he said it made your chest tighten just a little. You turned your gaze forward again, letting yourself lean back into him more fully this time. “It’s different from what I imagined.”

“How?”

“I don’t know”, you admitted, watching a boat cut slowly across the harbor. “I thought it would feel bigger. Louder. But it’s kind of calm.”

He hummed softly behind you. The breeze picked up for a moment, stronger this time, carrying the sharp, clean scent of saltwater. You tilted your head slightly again.  “What else did you miss?” He didn’t answer right away. Instead he rested his cheek lightly against the side of your head, his voice softer now.

“This”, he said.

You turned around in his arms, facing him. Your hands found his shoulders, holding onto them, as you shot him a gentle smile. “I am so honored to be here and to discover where you grew up.  I’ve been loving every single second of it.” He tilted his head, his hand softly caressing your cheek. “Let’s head to our next stop, I booked something.”

The boat was small. Not one of the big tourist ferries – it was quieter, more personal. “Girl, when did you book a boat? Who is gonna drive us?” You were totally dumbfounded, as you watched Felix climb into it, holding out his hand to help you in.

He shot you a smug grin. “Dear lady, let me introduce myself. I am Felix, your personal chauffeur for the day.” You looked at him, then at his outstretched hand, then back at him. “You are going to drive the boat?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you even know how to operate this thing?”

“Sure.”

You raised your eyebrows, looking at him in suspicion. Then you grabbed his hand. “You know what? Whatever.” You just went with it as he slowly helped you climbing into the boat. He chuckled, sensing your slight nervousness. “Relax”, he said, steadying you. “I’ve got you.”

Once you were settled in the tiny boat, you noticed a little table set up near the middle – carefully balanced. A small basket sat on top, a cloth draped over it.

You blinked. “What is that?”

He stepped in after you, steadying the boat with one hand as he sat down opposite of you. “Breakfast.”

You stared at him. “On a boat?”

“Yes.”

He reached forward and lifted the cloth from the basket. Inside was a simple spread – fresh bread, fruit, pastries, a couple of wrapped items and two cups already set out with a thermos tucked neatly beside them.

Your hand ghosted over the basket, unable to grasp what was happening. “You didn’t have to do all this”, you said, voice softer now. He shrugged. “I know, but I wanted to.”

There was a short pause as the boat rocked gently beneath you, water tapping softly against the sides. He poured something warm into both cups, sliding one toward you. “Now eat, you haven’t had anything to eat today yet.”

You picked up a piece of bread first, still watching him. “You’re very committed to making sure I don’t faint on the tour de Felix.” He chuckled and took a sip himself. “Tour de Felix? I like that.”

“Yeah, I will also make sure to leave a good review on Google”, you added and he nodded in approval. “Yeah, I sure hope so.”

You shook your head, smiling as you finally took a bite. The bread was warm, soft, exactly the kind of thing you didn’t think about until you realize you’re actually hungry. “Oh my god, I love me some good bread.”

He took another sip of his drink, looking far too satisfied with himself.

Outside the boat, the water shifted gently, gulls calling somewhere overhead as they passed. One circled low for a moment, clearly considering whether your breakfast situation was worth investigating, before deciding against it.

“So even the birds are judging us”, you said. “They are just jealous.” You hummed as you nodded. “Yeah, seems like it, I can clearly feel the jealousy coming down.”

You barely said that as white substance fell down from heaven directly next to you on the boats’ seat. You squealed for a second, not expecting it, before your gaze fell on Felix, whose eyes were fixated on the stain. Then you two burst out laughing. Loudly. Doubled over. Barely breathing. Wheezing.

“What a timing, gosh”, he ran his fingers through his hair, while motioning you scoot over a bit. “I am going to clean that, you just continue eating.” He went over to the stain, grabbed a paper towel and started removing it. You just watched him with a smug grin on your face, still chuckling.

“Note to myself: Never call out birds for being jealous.” Felix looked at you, nodding. “Yeah, lesson learned.”

After you were done eating, Felix started the boat – and surprisingly he really knew what he was doing. Apparently he did a little crash course prior to this date to be able to navigate the two of you himself.

From the water everything looked different. The Opera House passed slowly  to your side, the bridge rising above them like something unreal. The wind picked up slightly, tugging at your hair and you turned your face toward it with a quiet laugh. “This is so much better than walking.”

He watched you for a second, one hand on the wheel. “Do you want to try it?”

You looked at him in surprise. “And be responsible for both of our lives? Hell no.”

He laughed loudly, motioning you over to him. “Come on, I am gonna show you. No one is here and we are going really slow.”

You hesitated. Your eyes flicked from him to the open water, then back to the wheel in his hand. “I don’t know”, you muttered. He just looked at you, amused, already knowing you were going to give in.

“Come here”, he said, softer this time.

You stood up carefully, grabbing onto the side of the boat for balance as it shifted slightly beneath your feet. The movement made you instinctively reach for him, your hand landing on his arm.

“There you go”, he murmured. He guided you closer, stepping slightly behind you so you stood where he had been just moments before. “Ok”, he said, one hand still on the wheel. “Put your hands here.” You did slowly, fingers wrapping around it nervously.

“Relax”, he added, voice quieter now, right near your ear. One arm came around you, his hand settling over yours on the wheel, steadying your grip. The other hovered near, ready to adjust if needed. “Alright”, he murmured. “Just keep it straight.”

You swallowed slightly, focusing on the water ahead. For a second, nothing happened. Then the boat moved. Just a slight shift in direction as your hands tightened instinctively.

“Hey-relax”, he said, a hint of smile in his voice. “You’re not steering a race car.”

“I’m aware”, you said. “I’m steering something worse.”

He sighed softly, drawing circles on your shoulders to calm you down. “You’re doing great, just no sudden movements.” You let out a quiet breath, forcing your shoulders to drop a little. Slowly, carefully you adjusted the wheel the way he guided you.

The boat responded gently this time, gliding more smoothly across the water. “Okay”, you said after a moment. “That’s not as bad as I thought.”

He smiled. His hand shifted just a little over yours, guiding you through a small turn. “Like this”, he said. You followed his movement, watching the way the horizon shifted slightly in response. A small laugh slipped out of you. “Oh-okay, that’s actually pretty cool.”

“There it is”, he murmured. “Confidence.”

“Let’s not get that far.”

The wind picked up again, brushing your hair as the boat moved steadily forward under your control – behind you he adjusted slightly, closer now.

His arm still around you, his hand still over yours, his presence steady and grounding in a way that made it easier to focus. When you looked back at him, there was something softer in his expression – something proud. You turned back, lifting your chin. “How does it feel to be the passenger princess?”

He laughed loudly, nuzzling his forehead in your shoulder blades, pulling you closer to him. “Actually pretty good, I think I will take a nap now.” As he pretended to leave you, you quickly held onto his wrist with one hand. “Don’t you dare leave me alone.”

He laughed against you, the sound warm and low. “Alright”, he murmured, stepping back in properly behind you again.

Later after the boat had docked and the afternoon had softened into something warmer you ended up by the water again – this time on land. At a small grocery store first – where he grabbed something to drink and some snacks.

Then you found a spot by the water. Just a stretch of grass and stone near the edge of the harbor, where the city still felt close, but not overwhelming. You sat down side by side, the bag of food between you.

You looked around, taking in the environment. The water. The skyline. The noise of the city blending into something more quiet. “So this is your favorite place?”, you asked, biting into your sandwich. “One of them.”

“I get why.”

He turned his head slightly, pressing a light kiss into your hair. “Yeah”, he said.

The sun dipped lower, casting long reflections across the water. Boats moved slower now. The air cooled down.

You pulled your legs in slightly, wrapping your arms loosely around them as you watched the light stretch across the harbor. “I didn’t think I’d like it this much”, you admitted. Felix glanced at you. “Sydney?”

You nodded: “Yeah, it just feels easy being here.”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah, that’s why I missed it.”

For a while you just stayed like that, sharing snacks, taking in the view. At some point he checked his phone, then he looked at you. “Come on”, he said nudging you gently.

You frowned slightly. “What? Where are we going now?”

“You’ll see.”

You let him pull you up, brushing sand and grass from your clothes as you followed him back toward the streets. “Is this another tour de Felix surprise?” He grinned mischievously and grabbed your hand. “As I said. You’ll see.”

The closer you got, the more the air changed. It got warmer. Filled with smells, sweet, savory, something fried, something sugary. Music drifted through the streets, mixed with laughter and overlapping conversations. Then you turned the corner and stopped.

Strings of warm lights hung between the old buildings, stalls lined the cobblestone streets and people moved slowly from one booth to another, carrying plates of food and drinks. “Is this the night market?”, you asked, eyes wide - remembering that he mentioned something like this a couple of weeks ago.

Felix was clearly pleased with your reaction as he put his hand on your lower back and guided you forward. “Yeah it is”, he smiled. “Come on, let’s see what they got here.”

You drifted from stall to stall, stopping whenever something caught your eye. At one stand, you pointed immediately. “That. I want that.”

He followed your gaze. “Do you even know what that is?”

“No. But I don’t need to.”

He held his hands up. “Alright, if you want it, then you will get it”, he laughed.

A few minutes later you were standing with something warm in your hands, taking a cautious bite and immediately lighting up. “Oh my god. This is amazing.” You held it toward him. “Want to try?” He watched you for a second before he leaned in, taking a bite.

You watched his reaction and smiled satisfactorily, when you noticed his expression. “Yeah, that’s the good stuff”, he agreed, taking another bite. “Hey, leave me some!”, you protested and saved yourself another bite. He chuckled at your attempt to save your food and took a step back. “Ok, ok I am sorry. I shouldn’t be so greedy.” You boxed his arm softly, before slipping your arm through his and continuing your little stroll through the market.

Later you ended up with more food than you could reasonably carry. Now you were sitting on a low stone wall at the edge of the market. Felix handed you a bottle of water, which you thankfully accepted and chugged it in one go. You didn’t realize how thirsty you actually were.

You leaned slightly into him, balancing your food carefully. “Wow, I am so full, but I can’t stop, it’s so good.” He leaned back, stretching his legs out, one arm resting behind you along the stone – being all content that he could make sure you were well fed. “We can take the rest home”, he suggested and adjusted, his arm slipping around you, pulling you in just a little.

“Yeah, I think this would be the best, or else you would need to scrub off my intestines from this stone wall – I swear, I am about to explode.” He laughed out loud, rubbing your arm in an affectionate way. “Please don’t put that picture in my head.”

He paused just briefly. “No, this is my first time actually”, he smiled, while softly tapping the foundation onto your skin. You looked at him with admiration, as he furrowed his eyebrows, concentrating on making sure that the foundation looked even.

The brush moved with steady precision. “Tell me if this feels too heavy”, he added, eyes still focused on your skin. “It feels fine”, you replied softly.

He gently tilted your head to the left to reach another angle. The room was quiet except for the faint sound of brushes and the soft rhythm of his movements. He worked slowly – carefully. “You’re really focused”, you murmured after a while. He gave a small smile without looking up. “I have to be. I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t”, you said automatically. That made him pause for half a second. “You trust me that much?” You blinked, then let out a sight. “Of course I do.”

He hummed softly and continued his work. “Now close your eyes for me please”, he said quietly and you did. Cool air brushed against your skin as he worked near your eyelids. His touch was careful – paying attention not to poke your eyes out.

After the final touch you looked into the mirror, inspecting his work. “Wow. How about you do my makeup every day from now on? It seems like you’re a pro.”

He chuckled softly, leaning in and pressed a kiss on top of your head. “Anything that makes your life easier.”

Lee Know

He had watched you do your makeup more times than you could count – quietly, without comments and questions. You always assumed he wasn’t paying attention.

Until one day you were sitting in front of the mirror, about to start doing your makeup and he suddenly appeared behind you, looking at you through the mirror. You felt his presence behind you and caught eyes with him, as you shot him a questioning look.

“Let me do it.”

You stopped in your tracks, your eyebrows almost touching your hairline – you expected anything but not this.

“Did you hit your head?”

He stepped closer, putting his hands on your shoulders, the serious look still on his face. “Let me do it”, he repeated, now with soft insistence in his voice.

“You don’t even know what half of this is.”

He glanced at the table briefly. “I know enough.” You narrowed your eyes. “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”

He smirked softly, while he pulled up another chair to sit opposite of you. “It wasn’t meant to be”, he replied calmly and picked up a brush like it belonged in his hand. The foundation went on smoothly, his movements were controlled – like he already did it a hundred times.

“How the fuck are you so good at this?” He paused for a second before continuing. “I am me.” You rolled your eyes, not the slightly surprised at his confidence. After some time he breathed out softly. “I just watch you. Every time you do it, I kind of memorize the stuff”, he admitted quietly and gently tilted your chin.

Your gaze softened as you watched him how he applied blush on your cheekbones. “Do I need to be worried? You might be better than me at this.”

“That sounds like a you problem.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking our head.

After a while he asked you to close your eyes and you got a little nervous. “What are you doing?” He softly flicked your nose, grabbing your eyeliner. “Just trust me.” There was a light touch near your eyelid as you felt the wet pen brushing over your skin. When he finished, he tapped your chin lightly.

“Done. Look.” You opened your eyes and turned toward the mirror. “Minho, what the hell?! Are you some sort of witch? Why is it so good?” He leaned back in his chair, arms loosely crossed. “Told you.”

Without thinking you reached out and lightly fixed a small detail near his collar. “From now on, you are going to do this every day.”

He clicked his tongue. “Don’t push your luck.”

Changbin

You should’ve expected this. The moment he agreed to do your makeup there was no confidence – only concern.

“Are you comfortable like this?”, he asked before even touching anything. You blinked up at him from your seat. “I am sitting.”

“I know, but like … are you comfortably sitting?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

You sighed. “Binnie.”

“Okay, okay”, he muttered, nodding like he was preparing for something serious. “I just don’t wanna mess this up.”

You gently placed your hand over his, that was resting on the table with all the makeup stuff, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t.”

He picked up the brush, then froze. “Wait.”

“What now?”

“If I put too much foundation, can it be undone?”

“Sure, you can just remove it.”

He nodded slowly. “Ok, good, that’s good.”

Then he finally started applying the foundation carefully. “Is this pressure okay?”, he asked immediately. “It’s fine, baby. I promise.”

He frowned slightly, concentrating. “Does it look even to you?”

“You’ve done one side.”

You shook your head, smiling. “You’re overthinking.”

“I have to. It’s your face. It’s important.”

You then went quiet. Quietly admiring his concern for you. He was being so incredibly gentle with you, that you couldn’t help but subtly smile throughout the whole process.

A few careful strokes later he paused again. “Are you sure you’re still comfortable?”

You laughed softly. “Yes I am sure.”

He exhaled, relieved. “Okay, just tell me immediately if anything feels wrong.”

“I will.”

Another pause. “Nothing feels wrong, right?”

You smiled closing your eyes for a moment. “Nothing feels wrong.”

He nodded to himself. “Good, then I’ll continue.” And somehow, between all the questions, the hesitation and the constant checking he was actually doing it perfectly. After the final look into the mirror, you leaned forward, gently grabbing his face. “Binnie, you did so well, it actually looks so good”, you smiled at him. He placed his hand over yours, his eyes flickering over your face.

“Thanks. But one question.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you still comfortable?”

Hyunjin

“Wait”, he said before even starting, already holding his phone. “I watched a video on this.” You looked at him through the mirror. “Of course you did.”

“It was detailed”, he added seriously. That doesn’t reassure me.”

“It should”, he said, unlocking his phone. “They explained everything step by step. A video started playing. He watched it for a few seconds, then paused immediately. “I have a question.”

You sighed. “You haven’t even touched anything yet.”

“I need to understand the logic first.”

“There is no logic. You just do it.”

“That can’t be right.”

“It is.”

He replayed the same five seconds again. “Why are they tapping like that?”, he muttered.

“It’s just blending.”

“Yes but why that way?”

“You’re overthinking.” You leaned back, looking at him in amusement.

“I am analyzing.”

He finally picked up the foundation, but paused again. “Wait, do you usually use this brush or the sponge?”

“Both.” He looked even more confused now. “Babe, that’s incredibly unstructured.” You gently poked his cheek, the amusement growing. “You’re not building a machine.” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “The video said light layers.”  

He started applying, carefully tapping. “Like this?”, he asked. “Yes.” He paused. “Are you sure? Because in the video-“

“Yes, I am sure”, you said softly, shooting him a reassuring smile.

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “I feel like you’re not respecting the process.”

“Because I am the process.” That made him stop. “Fair point.”

He resumed, more focused now, still glancing at the screen every few seconds. “Okay, next step. Contour.”

“You’re treating me like a lecture.”

“It is a lecture”, he said seriously. “And kind of like when I am painting and in that case you’re my canvas.”

You puckered your lips. “That was kind of romantic.” He chuckled, softly patting your head. “You know what? I am going with my intuition”, he finally said and relaxed a bit. You sighed, happy that he finally let go off the video and just went with his feeling – and at the end it even turned out pretty well, which made him proud.

Han

You knew this was a bad idea the second he said “Trust me.”

“That’s exactly what I am not going to do”, you replied. “No, seriously”, he insisted, already sitting down in front of you. “I’ve got this.” Then he picked up a random product. “This one looks important.”

“That’s highlighter.”

“Exactly. Important.” Technically he was right. “But you don’t put this first, you-“ Too late. It was already on your cheek. “The highlight comes on by the end”, you finished your sentence – the brush in his hand, still lingering in the air as he watched you. “But it still looks good.” He reached for another palette and you watched as he blended something that definitely wasn’t meant to go where he put it.

“Boy, what are you doing?”

“Improving things.”

“That’s not improving, that’s improvisation.”

“Same thing.”

“It’s literally not.”

He tilted his head, examining your face like an artist who had no plan but full confidence. “Something is missing”, he said.

“Structure.”

“Boldness.”

He added another layer. You closed your eyes for a second. “I am not gonna lie. I am scared to look.”

“Don’t be. Trust the process.” You looked at him in disbelief. “What process?!”

He ignored that and reached for another tube. “Okay, now mascara.” Your eyes snapped open in panic. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What do you mean? It’s easy.”

“Not when you do it.”

He looked at you offended, lips pouting a bit. “Rude.”

“Jisung, you’re gonna poke my eye out.”

“No, I won’t”, he said confidently, already opening it. He leaned closer and you instinctively leaned back. “Yah, don’t move, I AM going to poke your eye out like that”, he complained.

You shook your head. “It wouldn’t make any difference.” He stopped in his tracks, looking at you in disbelief, but he recovered quickly. “Stay still”, he repeated, gently holding your chin. For once, his hand slowed down. The brush moved carefully – surprisingly careful – without actually poking your eye out.

You didn’t dare saying a word as a few seconds passed. “Okay”, he said. “Done.” You opened your eyes slowly. “I am alive?” He grinned, softly flicking your forehead. “Look.” He pointed to the mirror and you took a careful look.

“Well, it’s not the best but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be”, you muttered.

He nodded in satisfaction. “I take it.”

Felix

“Wait, really?”, you asked, already half smiling. “You want to do it?”

He nodded, a little shy, but determined. “I mean, I’ve seen it before. My sisters used to do it all the time.”

“That’s not the same as doing it yourself.”

“I know”, he admitted softly. “But I want to try.” You smiled at him and handed him a brush as well. “I promise, I am going to be gentle”, he said, taking a seat and gently brushing your hair out of your face, before reaching for a headband from the table. He carefully placed it over your hair, adjusting it so no strands fell forward. “There”, he said quietly. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, that’s actually sweet.”

He smiled a little, then leaned back like he was mentally restarting himself. “Now I can start properly. He hesitated, then started applying foundation, gently tapping it onto your skin. “Is that okay?”, he asked immediately. “Its’ perfect”, you replied.

He nodded, relaxing a bit. “Okay …”

There was a quiet focus in his expression, brows slightly furrowed as he tried to remember what he had seen before. “I think they used to do this”, he murmured, blending carefully. “You’re doing really well”, you encouraged him softly.

“Really?”, he looked up for a second.

“Really.”

That seemed to give him more confidence. He worked slowly, checking your face from different angles, always careful. “Tell me if anything feels wrong.”

“It doesn’t.”

A small breath left him, then he picked up the mascara. You sensed how he tensed up a bit and gently covered his hand, that was holding the mascara, in yours. “Hey, you can do it. Just go slow.”

He nodded, tilting your chin a little. “Could you look up a little for me, please?” You stayed still, as his hand moved carefully, much slower than necessary, but steady. Just careful attention.

“Okay”, he said after a moment. “You can blink now.” You did cautiously. He looked at you in awe, tilting his head now. His eyes were glowing, as a smile spread across his face. “I think I did okay?” You turned your head toward the mirror, checking his work and proudly smiled at him. “You did amazing, my angel.”

Seungmin

“I really don’t know why I agreed to this.” You were sitting on the floor, your makeup appliances scattered all over the floor, while Seungmin sat opposite of you. He cracked his knuckles, then he did the same with his neck and confidently grabbed your makeup sponge.

You stared at him. “Why are you preparing like this is a fight?” He didn’t even look up, as he opened your foundation. “Because I am about to win.” He scooted closer to you and you automatically scooted back.

“Why are you backing up?”

“Because I am scared.”

He scooted closer again – so close that he could wrap his legs around your body, trapping you. You gasped. “Oh my god, you’re holding me hostage.” It was just there for a split of a second, but you saw that little smirk on his face, before he squirted some of the makeup onto his hand and tapped the sponge against it. “Hold still. That’s for your own good.”

You stared at him in anticipation as he started to tap the sponge against your cheek with surprising precision. He placed his left hand, that was not occupied, on the back of your head, keeping you in place, while he made sure to cover everything evenly.

Your eyes followed his movements as he grabbed a brush and your eyeshadow palette. “Now close your eyes.” His touch changed, slower and more careful now. The brush moved lightly across your eyelid, controlled in a way you didn’t expect from him at all. You smiled slightly, eyes still closed.

“Stop moving.”

“I am not moving.”

“You’re moving your lips.”

“Why is it bothering you? You’re doing my eyeshadow now.”

“I need to concentrate”, he muttered and you opened your eyes, looking into his concentrated face. Now he nudged your forehead lightly with the end of the brush. “Did I tell you that you could open your eyes? I am not finished.”

You closed them again, earning a satisfying grunt from his side while continued doing his work.

I.N.

You should have known something would go wrong the moment he said, “I think I can handle this.”

He was sitting across from you on the floor, carefully inspecting your makeup pile like it was a puzzle he was determined to solve correctly this time. “Okay”, he said, picking up a lipgloss tube, unscrewing it. You looked at him, not saying anything. You were curious how he would do.

As he was about to go near your eye you froze. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Using it”, he said simply.

“No, stop. Don’t put that near my eyes!”

He stopped mid-motion. “Oh.”

“Then why does it have a brush?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Because lip gloss has a brush.”

“That feels misleading”, he said seriously.

“It’s not.”

He stared at it for another second, then slowly started lifting it toward your face again. You immediately grabbed his wrist. “Wait. Where are putting this?” He blinked. Looked at you. Then at the lip gloss in his hand. “On your lips?”

“No, you-“ You paused. “Oh, yeah you’re right.” Then you let go and he looked at you in disbelief while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re doubting me like that”, he pouted slightly and started applying the gloss, moving carefully like he was trying to mess up a very important task.

His hand stayed steady, tilting his head slightly. Then after a while. “Done”, he said, sounding proud. You turned toward the mirror. “Okay, wow. It’s actually not bad.”

His expression brightened immediately. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded like that confirmed something important in his life. “See? I told you I know what I’m doing.” You squinted at him. “You literally thought lip gloss was mascara.”

“And now I don’t”, he shrugged and you pinched his cheeks in affection. “Ok, Jeongin. I gotta say I am proud of you. I am proud of your growth.”  His ears turned bright red as he looked down shyly. “Does it mean, I get to do it more often?” You took a deep breath, not sure about that.

His mouth widened. “Ok rude.”

No response.

You leaned closer. “We said we’d wake up early.” A muffled sound came from under the blanket. Something between a groan and a protest. Then his voice finally emerged, hoarse and unwilling. “No.”

You blinked in disbelief. “No?” He shifted, pulling the blanket higher like it was a defensive wall. “Too tired.”

You laughed quietly, sitting up a little. “We are in Los Angeles.” A pause followed and just when you thought you had him, an even more stubbornly “No”, came from him.

You nudged his shoulder. “We have plans.” He turned his face slightly toward you, one eye barely open. “Cancel them.”

“That’s not how trips work.”

In one sudden, exaggerated motion, he rolled toward you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you down with him. It wasn’t rough – just dramatic. Before you could even react properly, you were half trapped against him. “Stay”, he mumbled.

You laughed. “Are you serious?” He tightened his hold slightly, more like a lazy lock than anything actually restrictive and buried his face near your shoulder. “This bed is better than the city.”

You shifted, attempting to sit up, but he made another exaggerated attempt to keep you there, this time pulling the blanket over both of you – all while whining how tired he was and how much better being just in bed was. Emphasizing it.

You gave up immediately, collapsing back into the mattress with a sigh. “Five more minutes”, you said. “Good”, he mumbled, already sounding like he was drifting off again. “Maybe 30.”

You stayed like that for a while – half tangled, half laughing, the kind of morning that didn’t belong to schedules. Outside, the city kept moving. Inside, time slowed down.

Eventually you shifted again and gently tapped his arm. “We’re going to miss everything.” His answer came slower this time. “What if WE are everything?”

“That is not a valid argument.” He finally opened his eyes properly, looking at you with exaggerated exhaustion. “It should be.” You pushed yourself up, escaping his lazy grip with ease now that he had stopped resisting. He made a small protest sound, whining, but didn’t try to pull you back again. Instead he just watched you sit up, hair slightly messy, sunlight catching your face.

You softly brushed a messy strand of hair out of his face, your thumb barely hovering over his cheekbone. “Can I bribe you with coffee?”

He sighed. “Consider me bribed.”

You left the hotel mid-morning, stepping into warm air that already felt like late summer even though it wasn’t. Los Angeles stretched around you in layers – wide boulevards, glass buildings reflecting light, palm trees lining streets.

Your first stop was breakfast in a small café tucked between shops. The place smelled like espresso and toasted bread and you sat near the window watching the city pass by. He was still half-awake. You slid a cup toward him. “Better?” He took a sip and nodded slowly. “Slightly more functional.”

You smiled and reached across the table, lightly squeezing his hand. He didn’t say anything, just turned his hand over so your finger could properly interlock.

After breakfast, you walked through the city toward one of the most iconic parts of Los Angeles: the Hollywood Walk of Fame. The sidewalks were alive with movement – tourists stopping to take photos, street performers playing music, vendors calling out softly to passing crowds.

“Oh my God, the Backstreet Boys”, you exclaimed in excitement, handing him your phone. “Take a pic, come on.” Han was so perplexed; he didn’t know what to do for a moment. “So, you like another band?” He pouted at you, while you slowly crouched down, ready to pose. You looked up at him, meeting his betrayed expression.

He was still holding your phone slightly too tightly, like it had personally offended him. “It’s the Backstreet Boys. “It’s not ‘another band’. It’s a cultural institution.”

“That sounds even worse”, he said flatly. A street performer nearby kept playing guitar, completely unaware that a full emotional crisis was unfolding in front of him over 90s pop music. You looked up at him again, meeting his expression – still pouty, still offended.

“Are you actually jealous right now?”, you asked. He hesitated, just a fraction too long. “Oh my god you are!” That made you laugh out loud. “Baby, it’s a band.”

“It’s men”, he corrected immediately. “Standing together. Harmonizing. Probably-“

“Probably what?”

He gestured vaguely with your phone. “Looking confident.”

You laughed harder, now fully crouched on the sidewalk, one hand on your knee to keep balance. “That’s literally their job description. Just like yours.”

He looked down at you, still holding the phone, still refusing to fully accept reality. “And I’m supposed to take a photo of you smiling at them?”

“Yes, you’re supposed to take a photo of this historical moment.”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, like he was negotiating with himself. Then he stepped forward slightly and took some pictures of you. “Ok that’s enough, I am going to be in the pictures as well now.”

He crouched down, claiming the spot next to you, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. You leaned in immediately, still smiling. “Act natural”, you said.

He looked at the camera. Then at you. Then back at the camera. “I am natural.”

“You look like you’re about to report me to the authorities.”

He shrugged his shoulders, puffing his cheeks, still pouting. “I might.”

That made you laugh again and right as you did he lifted his free hand and lightly hooked it behind your shoulder, pulling you closer in a quick, effortless motion. The camera caught it just as your expression broke into a grin.

He looked at the screen immediately. “That’s actually good”, he admitted, surprised. “I told you”, you said, still smiling. He didn’t respond right away. Instead he stayed crouched next to you for a second longer than necessary, watching you adjust your posture again, hair slightly messy from the movement, sunlight catching the edges of your face.

“But if I ever catch you looking at other bands again here, I am personally going to destroy the next star”, he threatened, getting back on his feet and pulling you with him. You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting his chest. “Dramatic enough?” He slowly put his arm around your shoulder, kissed your temple and pushed you gently to continue walking. “Me? Dramatic?”, he acted shocked, still walking you in his arm.

You glanced up at him. “You just threatened to vandalize the Walk of Fame over a boy band.” He tsked a couple of times. “I said one star. That’s targeted, not dramatic.”

“That’s worse”, you said, laughing under your breath. He didn’t argue this time. Instead he pulled you a little closer into his side, his arm tightening briefly around your shoulder before relaxing again. “Anyway”, he added after a second. “You were smiling too much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “At a star. On the ground.”

“At the idea behind it”, he corrected.

“Oh, so now you’re analyzing my emotional reactions?”

“That’s my responsibility.”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “Drama queen”, you murmured quietly, but he still heard you and softly flicked your forehead. “Rude.”

You walked like that for a while, half pressed into his side as the crowd shifted around you. The sun had climbed higher now, warming the pavement under your feet, casting sharper shadows across the stars beneath you. At some point, you slipped out from under his arm, only to grab his hand instead, lacing your fingers together without really thinking about it. His grip adjusted naturally and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

You stayed close and you continued walking, your joined hands swinging slightly between you with each step. Around you, the noise of the city carried on, but it all felt a little distant, like you were in your own little world.

Your next stop was more open, more scenic: the sweeping views from Griffith Observatory. Han and you had rented a car for the day now and the drive up alone already changed the atmosphere. The city slowly stretched out beneath you as the road curved upward through the hills. Buildings gave way to open space, palm trees thinning out into patches of dry brush and winding asphalt.

You had rolled the windows down immediately. Warm air rushed into the car, tangling with your hair. Han drove with one hand resting loosely on the wheel, the other drifting almost absentmindedly until it settled on your thigh. You glanced at him for a second. His focus stayed mostly on the road, but there was a faint smile on his lips, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

A satisfying smile tugged on your lips, as you leaned your head back slightly against the seat, letting the wind brush across your face and you gently placed your hand on top of his that rested on your thigh. “The view looks like a Pinterest pic, it looks unreal”, you admired, soaking in the scenery.

His hand shifted slightly against your thigh, not moving away, thumb brushing once in a small motion that felt more grounding than distracting. “It does”, he agreed quietly.

The engine hummed steadily and the road kept unfolding ahead until you reached your destination.

Griffith Observatory sat above it all like a quiet watchpoint over the chaos below. From the terrace the entire basin of Los Angeles stretched outward – endless and sunlit. The skyline shimmered faintly in the distance. You leaned against the railing. “Wow, it still feels unreal.” He stood next to you, covering your hand with his. You stood like this for a while, just looking. At some point you shifted closer and rested your head briefly against his shoulder. He responded by leaning slightly toward you, a subtle adjustment that made the contact easier.

He spoke quietly. “We should come back here at night.” You turned your head, pressing your lips against his shoulder. “Because of the stars?” He nodded. “Because of the stars.”

By afternoon you had made your way toward the coast. The air changed again, saltier, cooler, carrying the sound of waves long before the ocean itself was visible. After Han had parked the car, you walked along Venice Beach first, where the energy shifted into something more chaotic. Skaters moved across concrete bowls, murals covered walls in bright colors, music drifted from speakers and people moved in every direction. You walked along the boardwalk, occasionally stopping at small stalls. At one point he stopped in his tracks, causing you to stop as well.

“You haven’t drunk enough water today and you should eat something.” Before you could protest, he dragged you into a little restaurant just off the boardwalk – slightly crooked menu board, open windows, the smell of grilled food spilling out into the street.

“Sit”, he said as he guided you to a free table. You dropped into a chair by the window with a quiet huff. Outside Venice Beach was still buzzing. Han sat opposite of you and immediately handed you the menu. “Choose something.” After you ordered some food and some water.

The place buzzed softly around you – plates clinking, voices blending together, the ocean air slipping in through the open windows. A moment later he slid the glass of water toward you the second it arrived. “Now drink”, he said, looking at you expectingly.

“Ok, dad”, you held his gaze for a second longer, then look the glass, bringing it to your lips. He watched – completely unbothered by how obvious he was being – until you actually took a proper sip. Then another.

“Happy?”, you asked, setting it down.

“Getting there”, he replied and grabbed the carafe to pour more water into your glass. “Again.” You knew there was no point in arguing, so you drank it all again. He leaned into his seat, his arms crossed on his chest, shooting you a satisfying grin. “That’s more like it. And as soon as you had your steak, I am going to be the happiest man on the planet.”

Right on cue the server appeared again, placing your plates down in front of you. The smell alone made you realize how hungry you actually were. You hadn’t realized it until now. You looked down at the steak, then back up at him. “You may had a point in dragging me in here.”

He didn’t even try to hide the satisfaction this time. “I know.”

You picked up your knife and fork, cutting into it, taking a bite – and immediately paused. “That’s really good”, you admitted and took another forkful.

“Of course it is.”

“You act like you cooked it.”

“I basically did. I orchestrated this entire situation.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head as you took another bite, this time without commentary. Across from you, he watched for a second, before he finally started on his own food.

Halfway through your meal, you leaned back slightly exhaling. Ok, I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

He glanced up at you, one eyebrow lifting. “But I did. That’s what I am here for.” Your heart tightened at his choice of words and your gaze softened as you reached for his hand on the table, softly intertwining them. He noticed the shift on your face and squeezed your hand. “I mean it. I am here. I’ll take care of things when you forget.”

You squeezed his hand back. “Thanks”, you murmured. He held your gaze for a second later, something softer flickering through his expression again. “Eat.” He directed his gaze at your food. You did as you were told and finished your plate, feeling more fueled now.

“You got some space for dessert?”, he asked and you shook your head. “Oh no, I am stuffed.” You placed your hands on your stomach, stroking it – you really felt like you were about to explode.

“Ok, now should be head back?”, he asked and dug out his wallet to pay.

Later you finally left the busier areas and headed toward a quieter stretch of the coast. The sun was lower now, turning the ocean into shifting layers of gold and deep blue. Malibu felt different immediately – slower, more open.

You found a spot along the sand where the beach widened and the crowd thinned out. Malibu Beach stretched out in front of you like a never ending area. You sat down together on a blanket you had brought from the car. A small box with some sweet treats that you had bought from a little booth and fuzzy drinks sat between you.

You leaned back on your hands. “This might be the best part of the day.”

He nodded slowly, chewing on a sweet. “I agree.”

You shared the box between you, occasionally reaching in at the same time, brushing fingers without really acknowledging it. The drinks sat half-finished, condensation gathering on the sides as the air cooled just enough to make it comfortable.

At some point your shoulder dropped a little more than before. Then your head tilted slightly. Then you yawned.

He immediately noticed. “There it is”, he said.

You frowned faintly, blinking at him in confusion. “What?”

“The crash.”

“I am not crashing.”

“You are”, he said, far too confident. “You’ve been running on excitement and half a day breakfast all day.”

“I ate”, you protested.

“Because I made you.”

You let out a quiet huff, rubbing your eyes briefly. “I am just relaxed.”

“You’re tired.”

“I am n-“, a yawn interrupted you.

“You’re exhausted”, he corrected. You glanced at him, squinting slightly. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Absolutely”, he said. “You dragged me out of bed this morning.”

“Which was necessary.”

“And this”, he gestured toward you, “is karma.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t argue again. It was getting harder to, anyway. The warmth of the day was facing into something softer, the sound of the waves steady enough to lull your thoughts into slowing down.

You shifted on the blanket, pulling your legs in a bit. “Ok, maybe I am a little tired.”

“A little?”

You didn’t answer, instead you leaned sideways until your shoulder brushed his.

He didn’t move away. A second later, he adjusted, shifting behind you without saying anything, stretching his lets out a bit more so you had space.

“Come here”, he put his arms around you, pulling you gently against his chest. One hand came up to rest lightly against your arm, thumb brushing absentmindedly. “Better?”, he asked quietly and you nodded, your head settling against his shoulder.

“Don’t fall asleep”, he added after a second.

You let out a small, tired sound that might have been a laugh. “I won’t.”

“You will.”

“I won’t.”

“You’re already halfway gone.”

You didn’t respond this time. Your eyes had already slipped shut. He felt it before he saw it – the way your weight relaxed fully against him, the subtle shift as you stopped holding yourself up at all. He glanced down slightly.

Your breathing had evened out, your face softened completely in sleep.

The teasing expression on his face faded into something quieter, something almost careful. His hold around you adjusted slightly – more secure. Like he didn’t want you to slip or shift uncomfortably.

“You lasted long”, he murmured under his breath.

He shifted his chin lightly against the top of your head, careful not to wake you. One hand moved slightly, tracing slow, small patterns against your arm.

And he stayed like that.

Holding you.

Carefully, he shifted closer, slow enough not to startle you. His gaze lingered, almost as if he wanted to memorize the moment. Then, gently, he leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your shoulder and another along your neck. You were caught off guard, tucking your neck in, when you felt the contact. He chuckled lightly, mumbling a soft “sorry” against your skin – his eyes now closed, inhaling your scent.

“You’re beautiful”, he murmured, his voice still warm with sleep, barely louder than a whisper. A soft smile was plastered on your face, as your eyes stayed on the page, trying to finish the sentence, but then another kiss followed, slower this time, lingering just a second longer at the curve of your neck.

A quiet breath escaped you, your focus slipping. “You’re beautiful”, he murmured again, his voice low and still wrapped in sleep, the words brushing against your skin as much as his lips had. Your finger paused between the lines of your book, when you turned your head toward him. He looked absolutely breathtaking. His hair was messy, his face a little puffy, his lips looking so damn kissable and his eyes still half closed. When he leaned his chin on your shoulder, your heart was about to explode.

“You’re supposed to be asleep, you haven’t had a long sleep in forever”, you said softly, implying on the fact, that he just wrapped up a massive tour.

He hummed, a hint of a smile on his lips. His hand moved gently along your arm, fingertips barely there. “Seeing you like that is so much better than sleep.” You let out a small laugh, closing your book halfway, though your thumb still held your place. Your fingers found his bottom lip, softly stroking it. “Like that?”

The oversized sleeve slipped down your shoulder, when he started leaving gentle kisses along your arm up to your shoulder. “Just you being you.” Kiss. “In your own world.” Kiss. “In my shirt.” Kiss.

You giggled quietly, leaning into his touch. His breath was warm against your skin. For a moment, his fingers hovered near your neck – then he gently brushed your hair aside, slowly sweeping it away from your shoulder and the back of your neck.

The next thing you felt were his lips there – soft, unhurried, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath your hairline. Another traced the curve of your neck, slower this time. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hand instinctively gripping the fabric of his T-shirt a little tighter. “You’re really not letting me read, are you?”, you murmured, though there was no real protest in your voice.

“Not a chance”, he said quietly, a faint smile in every word. His finger stayed lightly at your neck, brushing your skin as he leaned in again, pressing a softer almost absent kiss where your shoulder met your neck. This time he lingered there, his forehead resting briefly against you.  Without looking, he softly removed the book out of your hands and placed it on the night table. “Now come here and give me a proper kiss”, he whispered, his finger slowly keeping your face in place, before pressing his lips on yours. You sighed softly into this kiss, melting at his soft touches. “I am contemplating if we should just stay in bed like that instead of Sight seeing”, he murmured, nuzzling his nose against yours.

You laughed softly, slowly putting some space between you. “No way, you’ve been talking about this trip for months and what you want to see here. We have a lot planned”, you reminded him and took the moment to get out of bed, which earned you a pout from Hyunjin.

“Ok, then let’s get ready”, you exclaimed and clapped your hands.

By the time you finally left the hotel, Paris felt fully awake. The air was crisp but gentle, carrying the faint scent of coffee and fresh bread from nearby cafés. Your fingers were loosely intertwined with his as you walked down the narrow street and kept glancing at you. Now and then he lifted your joined hands just enough to press a quick kiss against the back of yours before letting them fall again – in a casual, almost instinctive way.

At one point you paused near a small bakery, the display filled with delicate pastries. You looked up at him, giving him the most devastating puppy eyes and he couldn’t help but pinch your cheek, before pulling you in. A few minutes later, you were standing outside with something sweet in your hands, laughing quietly as powdered sugar end up on your fingers. Without thinking, he reached over, brushing a bit of it from your lip with his thumb. “You missed a spot.”

By late morning, you found yourselves standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, its structure stretching high into the sky, more massive than it ever seemed in the pictures. For a moment, you both just look. “It’s kind of surreal”, you admit.

He didn’t answer, so you looked to your left, but he wasn’t there. You turned around in confusion, about to look for him, but there he was. Standing behind you, with his phone his hand, that was directed at you. “What are you doing?”, you asked, while he was looking at his display with pure concentration.

His tongue poked out a bit, trying to figure out the perfect angle. “I am capturing the moment. Turn around again and look up at the top.” You shook your head, but did as you were told, turned around and looked at the top. Even with your back turned to him, you could literally see how he was trying different angles.

You then suddenly felt his warm presence behind you – him hovering over you, stretching his arm over your shoulder while holding his phone in his hand, directing the front camera at the two of you. Squishing his cheek against yours he took a couple of pictures – some silly ones, some where he pressed a kiss on your cheek, one where he licked your cheek and you looked at him in disgust.  

“Did you just lick my face?” You pulled back slightly, wiping your cheek with a look of disbelief. He was already looking at the photos, completely unbothered. “Art”, he said simply. You tried to hold your expression for a second longer – but failed, a smile breaking through. “Show me”, you said, stepping closer again.

He turned the phone toward you, your shoulder brushing as you both looked. Some pictures were soft , almost cinematic – others completely chaotic. “That one’s cute”, you pointed out. “This one’s better”, he said, stopping on one where you were laughing, your head slightly tilted toward him. You didn’t say anything, but your hand found his sleeve, holding onto it lightly.

Not longer after, you drifted away from the tower. A small street caught your attention, quieter, lined with little shops that felt almost hidden from the rest of the city. One in particular pulled you in – a tiny place with a warm display of snacks, pastries and bottled drinks neatly arranged.

You followed him inside. The bell above the door chimed softly as you entered, the scent of something sweet immediately wrapping around you. You wandered between the shelves, occasionally picking something just to show him. “What about this?”, you asked, holding up a small box. He leaned closer, reading it briefly before shrugging. “No idea what it is. We should get it.”

“That’s your logic?”

“Yeah.”

You laughed, adding it to the growing collection in the basket. When you finally stepped back outside, a small bag of random snacks in hand, you both pause for a second.

“Where to?”, you asked.

“I know exactly where to”, he replied.

Later you crossed the Seine, the sunlight dancing across the water. Street musicians played somewhere nearby, their music drifting through the air, blending with the rhythm of footsteps and distant conversation.

Now you were sitting by the water, the gentle movement of the river reflecting the midday light. You sat close, your shoulders touching, the bag of snacks between you. “Okay, moment of truth”, you said, opening it.

You pulled out one of the things you picked earlier, inspecting it before opening it carefully. You took a small bite, chewing slowly, your expression unreadable. “Well?”, he asked.

You turned to him. “It’s actually really good. Here”, you said, holding it out to him. He leaned in instead of taking it, taking a bite directly while your hand was still holding it. His lips brushed your fingers slightly. Then you pulled your hand back, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck.

“And?”

Mid munching, he nodded his head in approval. “Yeah, that’s good.” He reached into the bag again, fishing out the bottle of wine you had selected. He then retrieved two reusable cups, placing them on the floor. “Let’s see how this one tastes”, he exclaimed, opening the bottle and poured the content into the cups.

“Cheers”, he held up his cup, which you did as well and you toasted. The wine tasted rather sweet, but incredibly tasty. “Hmm, that’s really good”, you sighed, a small smile forming as you looked down into your cup again, like you were trying to figure out exactly what you liked about it.

“Sweet?”, he asked. You nodded, taking another small sip. “Yeah, but not too much – just nice.” He nodded, lifting his own cup and took a longer drink. You turned slightly toward him, pulling one knee closer to your chest. “What do you say?”

He pretended to think for a moment, glancing at the river like he was about to give a serius review. “I think”, he started slowly, “it tastes better because we’re sitting here.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “That’s not a real answer.”

“It is”, he insisted, nudging your knee lightly with his. “Try it somewhere else, it won’t hit the same.”

You hummed, pretending to consider it – but you didn’t disagree.

For a while, you both just sat there, passing the bottle back and forth, the snacks slowly disappearing between you. The warmth of the sun mixed with the light buzz of wine, making everything feel softer.

You leaned into him again, your shoulder pressing fully against his arm. He adjusted without a word, shifting slightly so you could rest more comfortably. His hand eventually found yours again, almost absentmindedly, your fingers threading through his. He responded instantly, like he’d been waiting for it, his thumb moving slowly over your skin.

The afternoon drifted on slowly, the warmth of the sun beginning to mellow as you eventually gathered your things, brushing crumbs from your clothes and packing away the empty bottle.

“Next stop?”, you asked, glancing up at him. He stretched slightly, then reached for your hand again like it belonged there. “The Louvre”, he said, a small spark of excitement in his voice. You smiled. “Lead the way.”

By the time you arrived, the glass pyramid stood shimmering in the soft afternoon light, surrounded by a steady flow of people. The space felt alive – voices overlapping, cameras clicking, footsteps echoing across the courtyard.

Eventually you joined the line, which stretched longer than you expected. It moved slowly, giving you time to just stand there, taking everything in.

At first, you stood side by side. But after a moment, you felt him shift behind you. His hands found your waist naturally, sliding around you as he stepped closer, closing the small gap between you. You didn’t even question it – just relaxed back into him slightly. Then you felt his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. A soft exhale left him, like he’d finally settled.

“Ugh, your head is so comfy”, he murmured quietly. You smiled, your hands coming up to rest over his arms. “My head says thank you.” He chuckled, pulling you in even closer. For a moment, you just stayed like that, gently swaying with the slow movement of the line. His grip wasn’t tight, just secure, his thumb brushing small, absent patterns against your sides.

The without a warning, you felt a soft press against your hair. A kiss. You sighed softly, your fingers tightened even more around his arms, pulling him just a bit closer. A few seconds passed before he did it again. Another kiss to the top of your head, lingering this time.

“You’re cute”, he added quietly, nuzzling his face against the side of yours – only letting you go so you could pass the security check.

Once inside, the museum felt like a completely different world. High ceilings, endless rooms, art stretching in every direction. “Okay”, you said, looking around, slightly dazed. “Where do we even start?”

“Let’s just start there”, he pointed at a majestic painting hanging on the wall. You wandered through the halls slowly and you noticed it more and more – the way he slowed down in front of certain pieces, the way his gaze lingered. He took his time.

At one painting, he stopped completely. You almost walked past him before realizing, then stepped back to stand beside him. “What?”, you asked quietly.

He tilted his head slightly, studying it. “I don’t know exactly why, but I like this one.” You followed his gaze. The colors, the light, the expression – it was beautiful, but what caught your attention more was him.

“Why?”, you asked. He hesitated, searching for words. “It feels honest, I think. Like it’s so real.” You looked at him for a moment instead of the painting. “That makes sense”, you said softly. He glanced at you. Then, almost surprised you agreed, before a small smile appeared.

You continued like that – wandering, pausing, sometimes talking, sometimes not. At another piece, he leaned in slightly, reading the small description beside it, brows furrowing in concentration. “What does it say?”, you asked. He summarized it in his own words, not perfectly, but thoughtfully – like he was trying to understand, not just repeat.

“I like that you actually care”, you said, nudging him lightly. He shrugged, a little shy now. “I just think it’s kind of amazing. Someone made this. Like, from nothing.” You hummed, looking at the artwork again, but his words stayed with you.

At some point, his hand found yours again, fingers slipping between yours as naturally as breathing. You stopped in front of another painting, standing a little closer this time. He leaned in slightly toward you, his shoulder brushing yours.

“This one”, he said quietly, “I think this might be my favorite so far.”

“Yeah?”

“Hmm.”

You looked at it, then back at him. “What about it?”

He smiled faintly. “I don’t know how to explain it properly.”

“You don’t have to.”

He lifted your jointed hands, pressing a soft kiss against you knuckles – just like how he did that morning.

“I just like how it makes me feel”, he said and you shot him an adoring smile. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”

As you continued through the museum it felt like you weren’t just seeing the art. You were seeing him too. How passionate he was in the art here and how invested he was in this place.

As evening began to settle, the city shifted again. The light softened, turning everything warmer, quieter, like Paris was exhaling after a long day. You found yourselves at a small restaurant, small and cozy, a candle lit on the middle of the table. You sat across from each other. The plates full of food placed in front of you.

The flickering candlelight danced across his face, softening his features even more, making his eyes look warmer. “You’re staring”, you said softly, resting your chin on your hand. He didn’t even try to deny it. “I’ve been doing that all day.”

You smiled, taking a forkful of your food, just to have something to do with your hands. “Eat your food”, you shook your head, but the smile stayed. After that the conversation came easily. Your favorite moments of the day, the worst snack you tried, the funniest picture he took earlier. At one point he turned his phone toward you again, showing yo a photo you hadn’t noticed before.

It was you.

Not posed, not looking at the camera – just sitting by the Seine, head tilted slightly toward him, smiling at something he had said. “When did you take that?”, you asked quietly. He shrugged a little. “When you weren’t looking.”

You didn’t say anything for a second, just looked at it. “I like this one the most”, he added. Your fingers brushed his as you gently pushed the phone back toward him. “You’re such a romantic.”

He shot you a smug grin, reaching for your hand and squeezing it. You felt your face warm slightly and started playing with his fingers. Eventually the plates emptied, the candle brined lower and the night settled more fully around the city.

When you stepped back outside, everything was glowing. Streetlights reflected on the pavement, the distant hum of the city quieter now, more intimate. You stood there for a second – then naturally, his hand found yours again. “Walk?”, he asked and you nodded.

You didn’t answer, you just waved him over, already giggling again. “Come here. You have to see this.” He raised his eyebrows, but got up anyway, padded over and leaned slightly over you to look at your phone, where you replayed the video.

The dramatic music kicked in again and you were having a hard time containing yourself.

It was silent for a moment, until Chris broke it. “What is this?”, he laughed, tears already forming in his eyes. Now you completely lost it. “It’s YOU! It’s literally you!” He took the phone out of your hand, rewatching the video again. “It’s not me, it’s Wolfchan!” You stole your phone back from him. “Aren’t you literally the same?” He sighed softly and flopped onto the bed next to you.

You replayed it again and now both of you were watching in anticipation. When the dramatic beat drop hit, you grabbed his arm, laughing uncontrollably. “I love it! Your fans are so creative!” He glanced down at you, still smiling softly, then back at the screen as the video looped again. This time, he imitated the dramatic expression, putting on an exaggerated sad face.

You burst out laughing even harder. “Oh gosh, that’s exactly it!”

“I am fine”, he said in a mock-serious tone, dramatically placing a hand over his chest.

You shook your head. “What I would give to be able to do those edit effects in real life now.” He leaned his head on your shoulder and grabbed your bicep, gently squeezing it. “That would be so cool. Send that to me.”

“Oh, I will.”

Lee Know

You were sitting next to Minho on the couch while he scrolled through something on his phone, completely minding his own business. Meanwhile you were already on your third replay of the Leebit edit you had just found.

It was absurd: Leebit was edited like some badass, untouched villain – slow zoom, music in the background singing “Hills have eyes, Hills have eyes”

You choked on your laugh, which Minho noticed. “Why do you sound like that?”

You shoved your phone in his face. “Just watch.” He watched silently, completely expressionless. Blinking rapidly, completely confused. “What is that?” You giggled: “It’s you! It’s Leebit!”

Another dramatic zoom hit. He stared a second longer, then let out the smallest scoff. “That’s kind of accurate.” You froze, then burst out laughing. “You agree?” He shrugged, lips twitching. “I don’t see the problem. He seems cool and I am cool.” He took the phone from your hand, replaying the edit himself now. This time, you notice the slight curl of his lips.

“The editing is good”, he added. “Oh my god.” You leaned against him, still laughing.

For a moment, the room filled with the quiet sound of the video looping again. The dramatic music clashed hilariously with the casual way Minho sat there, completely unfazed by his own villain arc. “You know what’s missing?”, you said between giggles. He didn’t look away from the screen. “What?”

“More sparkles, some fire. That would make you more dramatic.” He huffed softly. “I don’t need effects.”

“That’s exactly what a villain would say”, you shot back, nudging his shoulder. He finally turned his head, giving you a flat look – but there was amusement sitting right behind it. “And what does that make you?”

“The poor side character who discovers your secret and gets dramatically betrayed.”

He paused, then smirked a little. “That sounds about right.” You gasped. “Wow, so you admit that you would betray me?”

“If the edit demands it”, he replied, completely serious – at least on the surface. You stared at him for a second before dissolving into laughter again, grabbing his arm. “You’re unbelievable.” He let you cling to him without protest, still holding your phone. The video played again, and this time he rewound a specific part – the slow zoom paired with the music drop.

“See?”, he said, pointing. “That part is actually cool.” You peeked at him, noticing how focused he suddenly looked, like he was genuinely analyzing it.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” He shrugged again, his smile now clearer. “Maybe.” You shook your head, leaning back into him. “I created a monster.”

Changbin

You didn’t even call him – you just screamed his name from across the room. “BIN!”

“What??”, he yelled back instantly, already alert like something was wrong. “Come here!”

He rushed over. “What happened-?”

You shoved your phone into his hands, doubled over laughing. “You’re laughing before I even see it”, he muttered. “Just watch.” The video started and chaos immediately erupted.

Dwaekki bounced aggressively, music shaking the speakers, random eidts of flexing, zoom-ins that made no sense. The caption: When pre-workout hits too hard

There was a second of silence. Then- “YAH!” You fell onto the couch, dying. “IT’S YOU!”

“IT’S NOT ME!”, he argued, but he was already grinning, eyes locked on the screen. The edit cut to Dwaekki lifting something ridiculously heavy. You pointed violently. “That’s literally you at the gym!” He replayed it immediately.

He scoffed, offended – but only a little. “I do NOT look like that.”

“You do!”

“I don’t!”

“You absolutely do!”

Without another word, you replayed the clip. This time, he leaned in slightly, like he was analyzing evidence in court. The same chaotic sequence played again. His lips twitched. You saw it immediately. “You’re smiling.”

“I am not!”, now a little pout formed on his lips as he tried to hide his face, his ears turning red. “I am just evaluating the editing!”, he corrected. You leaned closer, still giggling “Oh so now you are a professional editor?” He ignored that, replaying the part where Dwaekki dramatically powered up. “Ok this part”, he paused, then nodded slightly, “this part is kind of accurate.”

You grinned in satisfaction, a smug expression now plastered on your face, which Changbin noticed. “It’s the energy”, he added quickly. “Not the face. Or the whatever that is.” He gestured vaguely at the screen as Dwaekki shook with exaggerated intensity.

“You mean the chaos?”

“Yes, the chaos.”

You wiped tears from your eyes, trying to catch your breath. “So you admit you act like that?” He hesitated just long enough to be suspicious. “At the gym … maybe.” You burst into laughter again, falling sideways into him. “You’re insane.”

“And you screamed like someone died!”, he yelled, nudging you lightly. “Because this is serious!”, you insisted, grabbing the phone again. “This is like … documentary gold. This should go into the history books.”

He shimmied with his shoulders, putting a finger against his pouted lip and giggled happily. He then playfully swatted your shoulders, being all shy.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin was peacefully sketching, completely immersed, when you quietly scooted closer. “Hyunjin.”

“Hm?”

You held up your phone. “Look at this.” He leaned in slightly as you pressed play. The edit was dramatic to an unreasonable level – Jiniret standing in fake rain, soft piano music playing. You started giggling immediately. Hyunjin, however, went completely still.

“…Wow.” You blinked. “That’s your reaction?”

He didn’t answer right away, still watching. The edit transitioned into slow-motion heartbreak energy. “It’s kind of beautiful.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “It’s a ferret in the rain.”

He tilted his head slightly. “But the emotion is there.”

You laughed again. “You’re actually serious right now.” He glaned at you, faint smile forming. “You don’t feel it?”

“No Hyunjin. I DON’T feel it.” He looked back at the screen, softer now. “I like this kind of edit.”

Of course he did. You shook your head, smiling despite yourself, watching him instead of the video now. There was something oddly endearing about how seriously he took it – like he could find meaning in anything.

The video looped again, the piano restarting its dramatic swell. This time, he leaned his chin on his hand, elbow resting on his knee, fully invested. You nudged him lightly. You’re studying it like it’s an art piece.”

“It’s an art piece”, he replied calmly. “Look at the pacing, the composition, the mood.” You squinted at him. “It’s a ferret. In the rain”, you repeated your words from earlier. “And yet”, he said, gesturing subtly toward the screen, “it made you react.”

“Yeah, because it’s funny.”

He shook his head slightly, amused. “Emotion is emotion.”

You huffed a laugh, giving in as the video played yet again. After some thinking time, you gave in. “Ok, I admit it. There is something artsy about that.” He glanced at you immediately, like he’d been waiting for that, the corners of his lips lifting just a little more. “I told you”, he murmured, almost smug, eyes flicking back to the screen. You nudged his arm. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late”, he said softly, already reaching for his phone.

Han

“JISUNG.” He didn’t even look up from his phone, completely unbothered. “What?”

“Come here right now”, you demanded, barely containing your laughter.

“That sounds serious.”

“It is.”

He finally glanced up, narrowing his eyes at you like he already didn’t trust the situation. “Why do I feel like this is a trap?”

“Because you’re dramatic, just come here.” He sighed but got up anyway, walking over slowly, cautious, like you might suddenly jump him with something embarrassing. When he sat down beside you, he leaned back slightly, still suspicious. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything – just watch.” Then you pressed play. The edit hit instantly:

Han Quokka appeared with chaotic energy – rapid cuts, meme sounds, glitch effects – the type of video that was overstimulating.

He froze. Completely still, like his brain needed a second to catch up.  “OH MY GOD!”

You exploded laughing, swatting his chest lightly. “I KNOW!”

“PLAY THAT AGAIN.” You replayed it instantly. Now he was louder than you – pointing at the screen, completely losing it. “THAT’S ME. THAT’S ACTUALLY ME!”

“I SAID THAT!”

He grabbed your arm, shaking it. “LOOK AT HIS FACE – THAT’S ME WHEN I PANIC!”

You both started laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe. “Pause Pause Pause”, he wheezed, trying to catch a specific frame. Han Quokka mid-glitch, eyes wide, his teeth on full display. He leaned in, gasping. “WHY DO I LOOK LIKE THAT?” “BECAUSE IT’S YOU!”

He fell back against the couch, laughing. “I can’t, this is too real.”

You wiped your tears from your eyes. “I’ve never seen something so accurate.”

“No actually”, he sat up again suddenly, grabbing his phone. “This is dangerous.” “Dangerous?” “Yes”, he said, already replaying it for the third time. “Because now I can’t unsee it.” The chaotic sounds filled the room again and this time he laughed even earlier, like he already knew what was coming. “Oh my god”, he groaned again. “That’s literally my brain at 3 am.” You snorted.

“At 3 am? How about 24/7?”

“YAH”, he protested, nudging you – but he was still smiling way too wide to sound offended.

Felix

You were just casually sitting together when you suddenly softened. “Lix.” He looked over immediately. “Yeah?”

You turned your phone toward him. “Look at this.” Edit started – soft lighting, golden tones, gentle music. Bbokari was glowing, caption said: If comfort was a person.

You smiled without even realizing. Felix watched quietly – then his gaze slowly softened, a little smile was tugging on his lips. “That’s really cute.” You glanced at him. “That’s literally you.” He let out a small laugh, a little shy. “You think so?”

“100%.” He watched again as it looped, expression softening even more. “That’s really sweet.” You leaned your head on his shoulder. “It made me think of you immediately.” He smiled, cheeks slightly pink. “Stop, you’re making me embarrassed.” You nuzzled into his shoulder. “Good.”

He nudged you gently. “Hey.” You grinned, tilting your head up to look at him. “What?”

“You’re saying things like that out of nowhere”, he mumbled, eyes flicking back to your phone for a second before settling somewhere else, like he didn’t quite know where to look. You smiled, softer this time. “I mean it though.”

The video looped again – Bbokari glowing under warm, golden light, the soft music filling the quiet space around you. Felix exhaled quietly, shoulder relaxing as he watched. There was something about the way his expression changed, like he wasn’t just seeing the edit anymore, but actually taking it in. “It is really nice”, he added, voice quieter now. You hummed, still leaning against him. “It fits you.” He shook his head, smiling shyly. “I don’t know about that.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him properly. “Lix. You literally make everything better just by being there.” He let out a soft, embarrassed laugh, immediately looking away as his cheeks turned noticeably pink. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

You smiled, reaching over to poke his cheek. “Oh, I absolutely can, watch me.”

The video kept playing quietly in the background, but neither of you were really watching anymore. Felix leaned back slightly, letting you rest comfortably against him again, his shoulder warm under your cheek. After a second he nudged you again. “Send it to me?”, he asked.

You laughed softly. “I knew you’d ask!”

Seungmin

You were already giggling, which immediately put Seungmin on edge. “What did you find?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.” You turned your phone toward him. “Just watch.” He sighed, acting all annoyed, but he leaned in anyway.

The edit started innocent – PuppyM looking soft, cute and harmless. “Okay”, he said calmly, still unbothered. Then the music abruptly switched. The edit turned chaotic – barking sounds, fast cuts and a caption that said “Will expose you in 0.3 seconds.”

You burst out laughing. Seungmin watched the whole thing without reacting. Too calm. You narrowed your eyes. “Say something.”

“It’s inaccurate.”

You chocked. “WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“I don’t bark that much.”

“That’s your issue with it??”

He shrugged slightly, a hint of smirk forming. “The rest is fine.” You fell back laughing. He just smiled, completely unbothered. You stared at him for a second, still laughing then point at the screen as the edit lopped again. “Look at that – look at his face right there.” That’s you when you’re about so say something absolutely unhinged.”

“I don’t do that” he replied instantly. You raised an eyebrow. “You’re the master of saying the most unhinged stuff.” He shrugged his shoulders again. “I am just saying what comes to my mind.” You rolled your eyes.

His eyes were still on the video as another chaotic cut played – PuppyM barking with exaggerated sound effects. You lost it again. “OH MY GOD.”

Seungmin let out a quiet breath, through his nose, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips. You scooted closer, nudging his arm. “Admit it. It’s accurate.”

“It’s exaggerated.”

“That’s not a no.”

He finally glanced at you, eyes narrowed slightly in mock suspicion. “You seem a little too happy about this.”

“Because it’s funny!”

“It’s funny because it’s me?”

“It’s funny because it’s true!”

He shook his head, but you could see he was holding back a smile again. The video ended and before you could replay it, he tapped your phone first. “Play it again.”

You gasped. “You like it!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You literally just replayed it.”

“I am analyzing it.”

You laughed, leaning against him. “What exactly?”

“The accuracy!”, he replied completely straight faced.

“That’s worse.”

The video played again and this time he watched more closely, eyes tracking every chaotic edit. When it finished, he nodded slightly, like he came to a conclusion. “Send it.”

You grinned. “For what? Self reflection?”

“For evidence.”

“Of what??”

“That this is how you see me” You blinked. “Oh, don’t you dare twisting this on me!”

He smiled again, small and smug. “Now send it to me.”

I.N.

You were sitting on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, already too quiet for your own good. Jeongin noticed immediately. “What are you watching?”, he asked dropping onto the end of your bed like he already knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Nothing.”

He immediately squinted. “That’s never ‘nothing’.”

You hesitated for half a second too long. “It’s just an edit.”

That was enough for him to lean closer. “Show me”, he said gently, placing his hands on your thighs. With a reluctant sigh you turned your phone toward him. The moment it started, the mood in the room shifted.

Soft piano. Rain tapping against glass. Foxi.ny was sitting on a bus, holding a chocolate bar, looking calm. You didn’t even realize you were smiling a little. Jeongin stayed quiet. Then the music shifted. A slight distortion, a drop in tone. The scene continued. Foxi.ny unwrapped the chocolate bar, taking a bite, completely unaware. And then a hand entered the frame, followed by a sharp movement. The chocolate bar was slapped out of his hands.

It fell. In Slow motion. Hit the floor. The edit lingered on it too long.

You sucked in a breath without meaning to. Foxi.ny just sat there, frozen for a second, looking down at the dropped chocolate like he didn’t fully understand what just happened.

You blinked fast. Jeongin went very still. “That’s just mean”, he said flatly.

The video continued – Foxi.ny slowly picking up the wrapper, looking out of the window instead of eating, like nothing needed to be said for you to understand everything that’d been taken away in that moment. You swallowed hard.

“Why would make someone such an edit?”, you muttered. Jeongin glanced at you. “You're getting emotional over a fox losing chocolate.”

“It’s not about the chocolate.”

“What is it about then?”

You didn’t answer right away.

Instead you stood up and walked to your shelf. Jeongin frowned. “What are you doing?” You came back holding your Foxi.ny plush. He immediately sighed. “Of course.”

You ignored him completely, sitting back down and pulling the plush into your arms like it belonged there more than anywhere else. Jeongin watched you for a second, then the plush, then back at you. “Baby, it’s just a video.” You hugged it tighter. “He didn’t deserve that! And you saw the video as well!” He rubbed his face. “Yeah and it was still a video.”

You looked down at the plush, brushing its little head gently. Your voice softened. “You’re safe”, you said quietly. “I am not going to let anything bad happen to you.”

Jeongin paused. Then with a small exhale, he reached out and lightly tapped the plush’s head too. “Yeah”, he added. “You’re fine.”

You made a quiet sound of protest, but didn’t move. You were still too tired to argue.

He exhaled softly – almost a laugh – and set his phone aside completely. He continued brushing through your hair in slow, absent strokes. The room stayed quiet for a while after that.

“You know”, he said after a moment, “we’re in Berlin.”

“Mhm.”

“And you’re still trying to sleep through it.” You mumbled something under you breath and rolled onto your back, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Another chuckle escaped his lips and you felt the mattress next to you dipping. You then felt his warm breath tickling the side of your neck as he nuzzled his nose there. You giggled at the contact, but warmly welcomed him, when he started peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get up”, he whispered lowly as his hands wandered down your body until they stopped at your sides, gently tickling you. “YAH!”, you screamed up and got up in seconds, the tiredness completely gone. You looked at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you pulled that card. You know exactly how ticklish I am.” He looked you with a smug grin – he knew he won that.

“Since you are fully awake now, let’s get up”, he was satisfied and was up in seconds. Before you could even protest, he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of bed, causing you to fall into his arms. He caught you, giggling against your shoulder. “Ugh, when I said that I liked your manhandling I wasn’t talking about dragging me out of a perfectly warm and comfortable bed”, you murmured and nuzzled your face against his shoulder.

He burst out laughing, pulling you closer against him. “Let’s talk about this later, now we need to get ready”, he laughed, dragging you to the bathroom. With your eyelids half closed you stood in front of the sink, putting on toothpaste onto your toothbrush.

Binnie on the contrary was full of energy – singing with the toothbrush in his mouth, dancing across the room. At some point he got behind you, putting one hand around your stomach, pulling you against him and danced with you. You couldn’t help but join him, it was just too contagious. He smiled proudly and spat the paste into the sink, starting to wash his face, water dripping from his chin as he shook his head slightly.

You glanced at him through the mirror, toothbrush still in your mouth. “You’re way too energetic for this early.” He wiped his face with a towel, then looked at you through the reflection. “You’re way too slow for someone on vacation.” You rolled your eyes, spitting the toothpaste out and rinsing your mouth. “I just woke up.”

“And yet”, he said stepping closer behind you again, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder. “You’re already judging me.”

“I’m not judging”, you muttered, even as a small smile tugged at your lips. “I’m observing.”

He hummed, his arms loosely wrapping around your waist again. For a second, neither of you moved, just standing there, sharing the quiet warmth of the morning. Then he nudged you lightly. “Go get dressed before you fall asleep standing.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him. “You’re really not letting me go back to bed, are you?”

“Nope.”

You sighed dramatically, but stepped away anyway, dragging your feet a little as you headed back into the bedroom.

By the time you were both ready, Berlin had fully woken up. The air outside was crisp, cool enough to wake up you properly as soon as you stepped out of the hotel. You instinctively moved closer to him, your arm brushing his before your fingers slipped into his hoodie sleeve, holding onto it.

He noticed – of course.

“Cold?”, he asked, glancing at you.

“A little.”

Without saying anything, he reached over and pulled you slightly closer by the shoulder, keeping you tucked against his side as you walked. “I think we need to get you something warm to drink and eat”, he suggested and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, while slowly guiding you to the next café.

The café was small and cozy, tucked between two older buildings, with warm yellow lights and fogged-up windows that made the inside look even more inviting from the outside. The second you stepped in, the cold slipped off your skin. “Ok, yeah, that was a good idea”, you murmured, rubbing your hands together. He proudly puffed out his chest. “I have those sometimes.”

He smiled and stepped up to the counter, ordering before you could even properly look at the menu. You watched him for a second. “You didn’t even ask what I want.” He glanced back at you. “You want something warm, sweet and something that feels like a hug.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and looked for a free table in the corner, taking a seat there.

Annoyingly accurate.

He sat down opposite of you, taking your hand in his, that rested on the table. His thumb moved slowly over your knuckles, absent and gentle, like he wasn’t even thinking about it. You looked down at your hands for a second. “You’re awfully cute today.” He shrugged slightly. “I am always cute.”

You huffed a laugh, but didn’t pull your hand away. Instead, you shifted it slightly, so your fingers fit better between his. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The café buzzed quietly around you, but your little corner felt separate from it. “Thank you”, you said after a bit.

He tilted his head. “For what?”

“For this”, you nodded toward your hands, then vaguely at him. “For taking care of me.”

His expression softened, just a little. “Hey, you don’t have to thank me. Your well being is my biggest priority.” Then he squeezed your hand lightly. As you were about to say something, the waiter brought you two cups of coffee to your table.

You wrapped your hands around the cup immediately, letting the warmth seep into your fingers. Steam curled up from the cup, embracing you in a warm hug. Next your porridge was placed onto the table, reminding you of your childhood. You lifted his hand against your lips, leaving a kiss there. “You know me better than anyone else.” He smiled softly, giving your hand a squeeze and starting to eat his food as well.

“Are we actually going to do some sightseeing today?”, you asked after a few bites, glancing up at him over your spoon. He nodded. “Yeah, but we are not rushing it.”

You smiled faintly. “Good.”

A little later, you stepped back outside, the warmth of the café still lingering in your chest. The cold air didn’t hit as harshly this time. You slipped your hand into his again without thinking. He glanced down briefly, then intertwined your fingers.

“Where to first?”, you asked.

He tilted his head slightly, looking down the street before nodding ahead. “You’ll see.”

The city slowly opened up around you as you walked – wider streets, more people, the quiet hum of Berlin settling into something steady. And then, without really noticing when it happened, you stepped into a much larger open space. You slowed down immediately.

Brandenburg Gate stood ahead of you, almost unreal in the soft daylight. You tilted your head back slightly, taking it in. “It feels bigger than I expected”, you said quietly. He stepped up beside you, your shoulders brushing. “That’s because you’re seeing it for real.”

“Yeah, probably”, you said softly – then his hand squeezed yours gently. “Now pose, I’ll take some pictures.” He removed his hand from your grip and positioned himself to capture this moment. You shook your head, softly smiling.

“That’s it, my girl. You look so incredibly good”, Binnie hyped you up, taking pictures from all angles possible. He went down on his knees, stretched his body, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process. He always did everything to make sure that you got the perfect picture.

“Ok, now get into the pic as well”, you laughed, motioning him over. A smile tugged on his lips, while he joined you and his hand loosely held your waist, while he snapped some pictures. One where he kissed your cheek, one where you kissed his cheek, one where he put you in a headlock – the pics got more chaotic as you went on.

From there you kept walking. Not long after, the grey tones of the city gave way to something entirely different. Bright colors stretched along the river, murals layered with stories, emotions and history. East Side Gallery.

“Oh, wow this looks so cool”, you said, stepping closer to one of the paintings. He followed a step behind you, hands in his pockets this time, watching you more than the wall. “You’re going to take pictures of everything, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You already took a bunch.”

“And I will continue.”

He chuckled under his breath. You moved from one mural to the next, stopping, pointing things out, occasionally tugging him closer so he’d actually look. “Look at this one”, you said, grabbing his sleeve. He leaned in slightly, humoring you. “Ok yeah, that one’s good.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He smiled faintly. “Well, how am I supposed to concentrate on that when you are right in front of me?” You swatted his chest playfully, shaking your head.

Hours seemed to pass without you really noticing. Walking, stopping, laughing, pointing things out. At some point, your steps started slowing again. Not as much as before – but enough. He noticed immediately.

“Hey, you’re getting tired.” You didn’t even try to deny it. He gently guided you toward a quieter area nearby, where the noise of the city softened again. There was a bench. You sat down without hesitation, letting out a small sigh. “Ugh, this is exactly what I needed.” He sat down next to you, close enough that your shoulders touched.

After a moment, you leaned sideways, resting your head against him. He shifted slightly to make it easier and put his arm around you, drawing little circles on your arm. Your fingers found his hand again, tracing lightly over his knuckles. “Did you have fun?”, he asked after a while. You nodded against his shoulder. “With you? Always.”

You could feel how much your words warmed his heart and you nuzzled even more into him.

The city kept going around you – bikes passing by, distant chatter, the soft hum of Berlin in the background, but here everything felt still. His fingers kept tracing slow circles on your arm. “You’re really tired”, he murmured. “Mhm”, you admitted quietly. “But I don’t want the day to end yet.”

He glanced down at you, his expression softening. “It doesn’t have to.” This thumb still moving in slow, steady circles against your arm. “We’ve got time.”

It felt different hearing that. Not rushed, not squeezed between schedules or obligations. Just there – stretching out in front of you like the quiet streets earlier in the morning. You shifted a little closer to him on the bench, your legs brushing against his as you tucked yourself more comfortably into his side. “What if I fall asleep right here?”, you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his shoulder.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “I guess I am stuck here, then.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not”, he said immediately without hesitation. His arm tightened around you just a little. “I just didn’t plan on guarding a sleeping human in the middle of Berlin today.” You smiled faintly at that, eyes still half closed. “You’re the only person I’d trust for that.”

“Thank you. I take my responsibilities seriously.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. A breeze passed though, light but cool, brushing against your skin, but his warmth kept it from settling in. Your breathing slowed – not quite asleep, but close enough that everything softened at the edges. Of course he noticed.

His hand shifted from your arm to your hand, lacing your fingers together again, grounding you gently. “Hey”, he murmured, tilting his head slightly toward yours. “Stay with me for a bit longer, yeah?” You let out a quiet hum in response, something between agreement and reluctance.

“Come on”, he added after a moment, nudging you lightly. “Let’s walk a little more. Then we’ll find somewhere to sit. Maybe somewhere with food. That usually wakes you up.”

That made you smile properly this time. “So, you’re bribing me with food now?”

“Absolutely.”

You sighed, dramatic but soft, and slowly lifted your head from his shoulder. “Fine, but only because I respect your strategy.”

“I knew it would work.”

He stood up first, then turned toward you, offering his hand without saying anything. You looked at it for a second before placing yours into his, letting him pull you up gently. The moment you were standing, you swayed slightly – not from dizziness, just from that lingering tiredness clinging to you. His hand immediately moved to your waist, steadying you without making it obvious. “I’ve got you”, he said quietly.

You started walking again, slower this time. Not in a hurry, not trying to get anywhere in particular.

The streets shifted as you wandered. The louder areas gave way to quieter ones, lined with trees just beginning to fully bloom. Cafés spilled out onto sidewalks, people sitting with drinks, talking, laughing. The city felt alive, but not overwhelming anymore. Your hand stayed in his the entire time.

Sometimes swinging lightly between you. Sometimes held tighter when you drifted a little too far to one side.

At some point, you stopped in front of a small street vendor. The smell hit you first – warm, sweet, familiar. You turned your head toward him. “That smells really good.”

He glanced at the stand, then back at you, raising an eyebrow, understanding immediately. He guided you closer, still holding your hand and ordered something quickly. You leaned slightly against his arm while waiting, your head resting briefly against his shoulder. He turned his head slightly, leaving a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

A moment later, he handed you something warm wrapped in paper. You took it carefully, your eyes lighting up slightly. “This looks amazing.”

“Try first before you get too excited.”

You did and immediately your expression softened into something satisfied. “Ok, yeah, you have to try that. This is really good.” You took a forkful and guided it to his lips, which he gladly took. He sighed in satisfaction and started nodding in approval. “Oh yeah, I approve that.”

You laughed under your breath, taking another bite as you started walking again. This time your energy picked up just a little. Not fully recharged, but enough to bring back that lightness from earlier. He watched you more than the surroundings. Not in an obvious way, just small glances, making sure you’re ok.

The afternoon stretched on like that – easy and unforced. You wandered through streets you didn’t know, occasionally stopping when something caught your attention. A shop window. A street performer. A random corner that just felt nice.

At one point, you found yourself near the river again. The water moved slowly, reflecting the soft afternoon light. There were people sitting along the edge, some talking, some just watching the current pass by. You slowed down, then stopped. “This is nice”, you said quietly.

He followed your gaze, then nodded. “It is.” You moved closer to the edge, carefully sitting down, your legs hanging slightly over. The stayed standing for a second, watching you, before lowering himself beside you. Your shoulder leaned into his again.

“Hey”, you said after a while.

“Yeah?”

“I am glad we came here.”

He didn’t answer immediately. His hand found yours again, like it always did, fingers intertwining without thought. “Me too”, he said finally. Your fingers squeezed his. He squeezed back. The sun dipped lower slowly, the light shifting into something softer and warmer. The city started to change again – day blending into evening without any clear line between them.

“No more getting up after this”, you murmured. He chuckled softly. “If you fall asleep here, I will carry you back, don’t worry about it.” You turned your head slightly, pressing your face lightly against his shoulder. “Hmm, tempting.” You nudged him with your shoulder, but there was no real force behind it. He just laughed quietly, his arm wrapping around you again, pulling you closer.

You let your eyes drift closed for a second, just listening – to the water, to the distant hum of the city, to his steady breathing beside you. His hand found yours again, warm and grounding, thumb brushing over your skin in slow, absent motions. You’re really going to fall asleep”, he murmured, voice softer now.

“Stay like this, I need to take a pic of your face.” You pouted and swatted his chest. “Can you be nice for once? I just woke up.” His gaze softened and he gently patted the back of your head before he pulled back the duvet. “Would it be nice from me if I made breakfast?” You hummed in satisfaction and pulled the blanket over your nose. “See you in a bit.”

You fell back asleep not long after – you were still jetlegged from your flight, still exhausted.

Minho slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to wake you. For a moment, he just stood there, glancing back. You had curled into the space he left behind, completely gone again. He shook his head softly, smiling to himself.

--

Back in the bedroom, he nudged the door open. “Jagi”, he called softly. “Hey.”

No response.

He walked over to the bed. You were still curled up, exactly the same, barely visible under the blanket. “Jagi”, he tried again, then leaned down and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into him, pressing a light kiss against your hair.

“Hey”, he murmured. “Breakfast is ready.”

That did it.

Your eyes opened widely, still heavy with sleep. You blinked up at him, confused for a second, then relaxed when you realized it was him. You shifted closer into him without thinking, your hand resting against his chest. “Warm”, you whispered. “Not that hard, you’re a literal ice block.” You hummed, eyes already threatening to close again. “Don’t fall asleep”, he warned judgmentally. “The breakfast is not gonna eat itself.”

A little later, you sat cross-legged at a low table, staring at what Minho had prepared. You leaned closer to the table. A bowl of rice, pickled vegetables and miso soup had been placed in front of you – the scent making your mouth water. “Hm, that smells good”, you exclaimed and picked up the chopsticks, starting to eat.

“And it tastes good”, your eyes rolled back as you bit back a moan. Minho nodded in approval and also took a bite. “Careful”, he said, leaning back slightly. “You’re about two seconds away from proposing to a bowl of rice.” You glanced up at him, completely unbothered, still chewing. “I might consider this.”

He shot you a smug grin, before grabbing a napkin and cleaning the corner of your mouth, where a rice grain was stuck, making a mental note that this was now a dish that he was going to cook for you more often.

At some point, your movement slowed. The warmth of the food, the quiet room, the lingering exhaustion – it all started catching up to you again. You leaned sideways without thinking, resting your head against his shoulder. Minho shifted just slightly to make it easier for you, his arm brushing against yours.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Falling asleep. Mid-breakfast.”

“Multitasking”, you corrected softly, which earned you a quiet laugh from him.

He glanced down at you, then carefully reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. You didn’t react – just nuzzled a little closer. His expression softened. “Still tired?” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his upper body. “The jetlag is jetlagging.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and gently wrapped his arms around you, helping you up and leading you to the couch.

“I am going to make you some coffee, don’t fall asleep again or you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

--

Not long after, you were outside – walking side by side beneath soft pink clouds of blossoms. Petals drifted down around in Shinjuku Gyoen, catching in your hair, brushing against your sleeves. You slowed your steps without even realizing it and took out your phone to take some pictures.

“It’s so pretty”, you murmured. Minho glanced at you instead of the tree. “Yes. Very beautiful.”

You wandered deeper into the park, past groups of people sitting on blankets, laughing, taking pictures, sharing food. At one point, a gust of wind sent a swirl of petals all around you. You stopped, tilting your head back, watching them fall. Minho took his chance.

Click.

You snapped your head toward him. “Did you just-?”

He held up his phone, very pleased with himself. “One of the rare moments where I captured a good photo of you.”

You swatted his chest. “Hey!” He barely flinched, still grinning as he stepped back just out of reach. “Relax, I am kidding.” You tried to stay annoyed, you really did. But then a petal landed right on his hair. You blinked.

“Minho, stay still.”

“What?”

You took out your phone and took a picture. And you rolled your eyes. Of course, he looked incredible even when he was dumbfounded. You then stepped closer, reaching up to brush the petal away. Your fingers lingered for just a second longer than necessary. “There”, you murmured.

He took the petal out of your hand and placed it on your hair instead. Then he took his phone out of his pocket and took a shot himself. “Would it be cringe if we used those pics as our background pictures? Like you know … some couples do?” You blinked at him, caught off guard.

“You’re asking me if something is cringe?”, you said slowly. Minho didn’t even look up, still focused on his screen. “I am being serious.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to think about it. “It depends on how good the picture is”, you said, stepping closer to peek at his phone. He tilted it slightly so you could see. You took a look at it. “Wow, it’s actually not bad. Yeah, let’s do it.”

You kept walking, slower this time. Petals crunched softly under your shoes as you passed more groups sitting beneath the trees. Someone nearby was playing music softly, others chatting, sharing snacks. You glanced around, then nudged Minho. “We should’ve brought food.” He looked at you. “You want to sit too?” Without waiting for an answer, he scanned the area, then pointed toward a quieter patch of grass a little further away. “Come on.”

A few minutes later, you were sitting side by side on the grass. No blanket, just there.

You pulled your knees up slightly, watching as petals continued to drift down around you.  Minho leaned back on his hands and for a while neither of you said much. You watched people. Couples taking pictures. Friends laughing. Resting your feet.

Then you glanced sideways at him, but he was already looking at you. “Stop”, you said.

“What?”

“Looking at me like that.”

He smirked faintly. “Like what?”

You gestured at him. “Like … that.”

“Very descriptive.”

You nudged his shoulder. “Ugh, you’re annoying.” He chuckled softly and slowly slid his hand closer to yours that was resting on the grass, his fingers slowly catching yours in his. “Ok I feel like you’re getting hungry, so let’s get something before you actually kill me.” He pushed himself up, offering you his hand, that you took and he pulled you up. “Sounds like a plan. And for the record – I am not that unbearable when I am hungry.”

He shot you the most diabolical side eye ever. “Yeah, let’s not let it come to that.”

By the time you left the park, the quiet softness of the blossoms faded into the hum of the city. Cars, chatter, music drifting from storefronts – Tokyo felt wide awake now. Your stomach made a very untimely noise. Minho stopped mid-step and looked at you.

You froze. “Don’t say anything.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That was loud.” You boxed his shoulder to which he chuckled. He gently grabbed both of your hands, engulfing them in his. “Ok, ok, I’ll stop.” He looked around and discovered a ramen shop. You followed his gaze and nodded to him. You both understood each other.

You slid into your seats, watching as bowls were prepared with quick movements. Minho leaned slightly toward you. “You’re about to forgive me for everything.” “I haven’t decided yet.” “Give it five minutes.”

When the ramen arrived, you didn’t even pretend to wait. You took a bite. Paused. Then slowly looked up at him. “Okay.”

He smirked. “Told you.”

“I might not kill you anymore.”

He hummed, taking a bite himself. “Another day alive secured.”

After eating, the city pulled you back in. Bright signs, crowded sidewalks, endless shops – you drifted naturally into a shopping street, moving with the flow of people. You stopped in front of a display window almost immediately. A clothing shop. Minho sighed. “Here we go again.”

Inside you moved from rack to rack, picking things up, holding them against yourself, occasionally turning to him. “How does this look?” He glanced up from where he was leaning. “Hm, I don’t know.” You threw the stuff into his hands, which he caught perplexedly. “Ok, I take it.” He shook his head, an adoring smile plastered on his lips, as he looked after you, when you went past him to the next rack.

A few minutes later, you held up a shirt against him instead. “This would look good on you.”

He raised an eyebrow and before he could protest, you interrupted him. “Try it.” You could see the indecision in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to say no to you – since you were so excited for him to try that shirt on – so he just listened to you and went into the changing room, trying on the clothing.

When he came out wearing it, you blinked and then you screeched quietly. “Oh my god, you look so good in it.” He smirked. “We’re getting it”, you concluded.

Hours passed without either of you really noticing. By the time you stepped back outside, his hands were full of small bags. You insisted on taking some, but he just shrugged it off and said, that he didn’t trust you holding the bags, as he was sure, you would lose them. Even though you knew exactly, that this was not the reason.

As you were strolling through the city, your steps started to slow again. Not because you were distracted this time, but because the tiredness had settled deeper into your bones. Shopping had clearly taken everything out of you.

He noticed immediately. He didn’t say anything first, just watched you for a couple of seconds – the way your shoulders dropped slightly, the way you blinked a little slower.

“Hey”, he said quietly. You hummed in response, barely turning your head.

He shifted the bags of his right hand into his left, so that one hand was free and gently took your hand into his. He carefully guided you toward a small café tucked between two brightly lit shops.

“Come on. You need to fuel yourself.”

“I’m fine”, you mumbled automatically, even as you let him lead you inside. “Whatever you say”, he humbled and seated to on a free table. “Stay right here, I’ll be back”, he said, already heading to the counter. You watched him for a second – the way he ordered without hesitation, like he already knew exactly what you needed. Of course he knew.

A few minutes later, he returned, placing a warm cup in front of you. The delicious smell of the coffee entered your nostrils. You wrapped your hands around the cup, letting the warmth seep into your fingers before taking a careful sip. Your shoulders relaxed almost instantly.

“Better?”, he asked. You nodded, eyes half-lidded. “A lot.”

He leaned back slightly, watching you again – but softer this time. No teasing, no smug grin. Just quiet satisfaction. After a few minutes, some of the energy returned to your face. Enough for your eyes to start wandering again, taking in the street outside through the window.

And then you spotted it. Your posture straightened immediately.

Minho followed your gaze. “What?”

You pointed. Across the street, glowing in neon lights, there was a karaoke bar. He looked back at you slowly. “…No.”  Your head snapped toward him. “Absolutely yes.”

“No.”

“Minho.”

“You’re tired.”

“I’m revived”, you corrected, already finishing your drink in one go. “That coffee changed me.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “That was like three sips.”

“You stood up anyway. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t move. You reached across the table, grabbed his hand and pulled. “Come on.”

There was a brief moment where he considered resisting. Then he sighed, standing up. “If you lose your voice, don’t complain later.”

“You’ll survive.”

“I am not worried about me.”

A little while later, you were inside a small private karaoke room, the door sliding shut behind you. The space was cozy. Dim lights, a screen glowing in front of a low table, two microphones waiting. You turned to him with a grin. “First song is yours.”

He scoffed. “Absolutely not.” You were already scrolling. “Too late.”

You paused for a while and then found the perfect song. Then slowly looked up at him.

You handed him the microphone before he could react. He stared at it like it had personally offended him. He blinked a couple of times as well.

“Start”, you said, dropping onto the couch.” The music began. He didn’t move. You raised an eyebrow. “Minho.” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before finally bringing the mic up.

The melody of “Heartbeat” by 2PM started playing and before Minho could even sing the first verse, you started grinning like crazy. This was about to be good.

The first line came out a little hesitant and you couldn’t help but start chuckling and clapping your hands. Being all supportive. After some time Minho as well got more relaxed and actually enjoyed it.

By the time he finished, you were already clapping dramatically. “Ok, how am I supposed to keep up with that? You were amazing.” You got up, grabbing the second mic and shot him a smug grin. “Well, good luck then”, he replied and sat down, leaning back and watching you the way you had watched him earlier.

You started strong. Too strong. Somewhere between enthusiasm and chaos, you completely lost control of the pitch, but you didn’t care. You were laughing mid-lyrics, pointing at him, trying to drag him into singing with you.

“I am not joining that”, firstly he tried to act all nonchalant, but it didn’t take long until he burst out laughing as well. You grabbed hi arm anyway, shoving the mic closer to him. “Sing!”

“No.”

“Sing!”

He gave in – barely – but it was enough. Soon, both of you were singing – badly, loudly, completely off-key at times. At some point, you were both laughing more than actually performing.

You stumbled back onto the couch, still holding the mic, breathless.

“That was amazing”, you said between laughs.

“It was a disaster.”

“Same thing.”

He shook his head, but he was smiling. There was a small pause after the music ended. You leaned slightly, toward him, your shoulder brushing him. “How about a romantic duet?”, you wiggled your eyebrows and already grabbed his hand to pull him with you, but he made himself heavier. You tugged again. Nothing.

“Minho.”

He stayed exactly where he was, leaning back into the couch like he had all the time in the world. “No.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Come on.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you’re still holding my hand”, you pointed out immediately. His eyes flicked down. You gave his hand a small, gentle tug this time instead of pulling. “Just one song.”

He exhaled through his nose, like he was considering all possible outcomes of his life choices. “You pick”, he said finally. “And nothing embarrassing.”

You lit up instantly. “Deal.”

That was a lie and both of you knew it. You picked anyway. A slow duet started filling the room, soft instrumental, the kind  that made the space feel smaller and quitter at the same time. You turned back at him, still standing close.

“So”, you said, handing him the second mic, your fingers brushing his as you did. “Try not to ruin the mood.”

When the song began, he stayed seated for exactly three seconds. Then he stood up anyway. Of course he did.

He stepped closer, the mic came, but his eyes weren’t really on the lyrics. They were on you.

You started first, voice softer this time and for once you weren’t trying to perform. You were just singing and he matched you. At some point, your shoulder bumped against his. He didn’t move away. Instead, his free hand came up and rested lightly at your waist like it belonged there. Your voice faltered for a fraction of a second, which made him grin. “Focus.”

The chorus came and he stepped closer. His hand shifted slightly at your waist, thumb brushing a slow, absent circle like he didn’t realize he was doing it. Your hand drifted up to lightly grip his sleeve, grounding yourself there while you sang.

When it ended, there was not immediate reaction. You exhaled slowly, still standing right in front of him. “Ok, that was definitely romantic.” He hummed. His hand was still at your waist.

Then, very gently, he leaned forward just a little, so your foreheads touched. “Next one”, he said softly. You smiled. “Together again?”

You smiled, placing your arms around his neck, your hands interlocking behind his head. “And I love how your hair looks from this angle”, you laughed, playfully ruffling it, which earned you a soft laugh from him.

He tilted his head slightly, looking up at you now. More serious now. “No, I mean it. You look incredibly hot.” Your breath caught just a little at the sudden shift in his tone. “Oh”, you said quieter now. Chris’ grip on your waist tightened slightly. “Like dangerously hot”, he added, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Which is actually a problem.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to recover. “A problem?”

“Yeah”, he nodded, stepping closer. “Because now I have to stay extra close.”

“Why?”

He leaned, his lips ghosting over yours. “To make sure no one gets too near.” You laughed softly. “Chris-“

“I’m serious”, he interrupted, though his eyes were warm. “Luckily, I can fight everyone.”

“That’s very reassuring”, you teased. Your hands slid through his hair, fixing the strands you’d messed up earlier. You felt his eyes on you again as he slowly pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss below your jaw, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. “Yeah”, he hummed. “Definitely not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

Lee Know

“Again”, Minho said. You groaned. “We’ve done it like ten times.”

“And we’ll do it eleven.”

You rolled your eyes – but took your position anyway, stepping right in front of him. The music started and you moved automatically. Step, turn, shift –

Then you ended up facing him and paused. Your eyes locked instantly. Being exactly the same height as him made it easier – no tilting your head, not looking up or down – just direct. Minho noticed too. You could tell by the way his expression shifted, just slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it to feel like this.

“Focus”, he said, but his voice was quieter now. “You’re the one staring”, you replied.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

To prove your point, you leaned in just a fraction. Just enough that your noses almost brushed. He didn’t move back. Instead he lifted a hand and adjusted your arm position, fingers light on your wrist. “Like this”, he murmured.

His face stayed right there. Too easy to notice everything – the way his eyes flicked to your lips for a second, the way your breathing synced without either of you meaning to. “You’re distracted”, you said softly.

“So are you.”

Then Minho smirked slightly and tapped his forehead against yours. “Good thing we’re the same height”, he said. “Makes correcting you easier.”

You huffed a quiet laugh. “That’s your excuse?” He took your hand, lifted it to his lips, gently biting into it. When you let out a small surprised noise, your first instinct was to pull back, but he didn’t hold you there. He just watched you, eyes glinting with quiet amusement. Your cheeks warmed instantly.

“Minho.”

“What?”, he said innocently.

“You’re so annoying”, you muttered.

“Mm”, he hummed. “And you’re flustered.” He leaned in again, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him and smiled – small, satisfied – pulling you gently against him, cradling the back of your head in his hand. “Now let’s try again.”

Changbin

You went into the kitchen as you saw how Changbin was trying to reach something from the top shelf. He jumped slightly, still didn’t reach it. You waited for a few seconds before stepping forward, standing behind him. “You need help?” He flinched at the sound of your voice, slowing turning around, facing you. He looked at you and then at the jar sitting on the shelf. Then he turned around again.

“No.”

He tried again, jumping, stretching his body, but it didn’t help. At some point he stopped, resting his hands against the counter, his shoulders slumping. He took a deep breath before eventually giving in. “Ok, maybe I need help.”

With a satisfied smile you reached for the jar, stretching a bit and grabbed it before placing it on the counter. “Here you go, my short king.”

Changbin stared at you, before taking it. “YAH, short king?! You’re so mean!”  Your words winded him up so bad, his ears turned red. You chuckled, putting your hands on his shoulder, giving them a slight squeeze. “Ok I am sorry. How about I open this jar of cookies and we share?”

You grabbed the jar and twisted it once. Nothing. Twice. Still nothing. The lid stayed firm on the jar. Your brows furrowed. “Wait.”

Behind you, Changbin went still. You tried again, now using both hands this time, but the lid didn’t budge.

Slowly, very slowly you turned your head to look at him. He was already looking at you. Arms crossed now. Eyebrows raised. Completely unimpressed. “Don’t say it.”

He stepped closer, taking the jar from your hands with exaggerated calm. “What happened to my tall advantage?” You narrowed your eyes. “Just open it.” He didn’t answer. Instead he tightened his grip slightly-

Pop.

The lid came off effortlessly. He held it out to you with a small, smug smile. Here you go, my tall queen.”

“We’re even now”, you muttered. He leaned in just a little, his expression softening despite the teasing. “Yeah, we’re even”, he confirmed.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin noticed it before anything else. Your legs. Long, elegant, perfectly aligned with his own height.

“You’re staring”, you said. “I know”, he replied, not even pretending to stop. You huffed, but didn’t move away when he stepped closer. “Stand still”, he murmured.

He gently placed his hands on your hips, then slowly traced them down. Your breath caught. “Hyunjin-“

“You’re so beautiful”, he said quietly.

Then he sank down slightly, pressing a soft kiss against your knee, then your thigh – slow, deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of your skin.

Your hands quickly found his shoulder, steadying you as your knees threatened to collapse. He looked up at you through his lashes, shooting you a soft smile, while pressing another kiss to your thigh. His hands slowly caressed the back of your thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze. “You’re perfect”, he whispered and slowly stood up again, his hands now on your cheeks, being now on the same height.

His thumbs brushed softly along your cheeks, his gaze steady and soft. His fingers now slipped gently from your cheeks to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, lingering there for a second. “I could look at you the whole day, you know?”, he murmured, making you blush. He smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing.

His hands slid down again, resting lightly at your waist, like he was aware of every reaction you had. “Your knees are still buckling”, he chuckled, holding you closer to make sure you didn’t actually collapse. You huffed. “Don’t act like you don’t do that on purpose Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Hmm, now we’re using the full name? Yup, I am never going to stop”, he smiled, capturing your lips in his. Your hands wandered to his shirt, tightening slightly against is, as you sank into the kiss.

Han:

You barely had time to react before Jisung wrapped his arms around you. But instead of pulling you in the usual way, he leaned – face pressing into your shoulder, then slightly into your neck. You froze.

“Jisung?”

“Hmm?” His voice was muffled.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

You could feel his breath, warm against your skin. His arms tightened just slightly, like he didn’t want to move. Something in your chest melted. You wrapped your hands around him, pulling him in tightly. “Hey, are you sure everything is ok? This comes out of the sudden.”

He stayed quiet for a second. Then he let out a small sight, still not lifting his head. “I’m okay”, he said again, softer this time. “I just really love your hugs, it’s important for surviving. Like eating and breathing.”

You blinked. “Surviving?”

“Yeah.”

You let out a small laugh, your fingers still resting on his back. “That’s dramatic. Even for you.”

“It’s the truth”, he mumbled. His arms didn’t loosen. If anything, he pulled you a little closer, like he was proving a point to the universe itself. You shifted slightly, leaning your cheek against the side of his head. “So what you’re saying is … I am essential life support now?”

“Yes.”

You laughed again, your hands slowly rubbing comforting circles into his back. Then Jisung finally lifted his head a little, enough to look up at you from where he was still pressed against your shoulder. His expression was calm – but his eyes were warm and steady.

“You can just … fully wrap around me. No effort. No gaps”, he finally said and your heart even melted more. He adjusted his arms slightly, pulling you in again as if demonstrating. “Your hugs just fit so well. They feel like I disappear in them. Sometimes when I feel like everything gets to me, I just hug you and it just feels like every single problem that I have could disappear into thin air.”

“Does it?”, you asked softly and nuzzled into that hug again.

“It feels exactly like it”, he mumbled. “That’s why I like them.”

You softened completely, hands tightening around him instinctively. “Then you can have as many as you want.”

He buried himself into your shoulder like he had no intention of letting you go ever again.

Felix

Felix tilted his head, watching as walk ahead of him. “You’re tall.”

You glanced back. “You’re just noticing?”

“I always notice”, he said smiling. You stopped, crossing your arms. “And?”

He stepped closer, looking up at you with bright, soft eyes. “I like it.”

You blinked. “That’s it?”

He nodded, completely sincere. Then without warning he reached for your hand, lifting it slightly and spinning you once, like you were in a freaking movie. You laughed. “What was that?”

“Just checking something.”

“What?” He stepped in again, closer now, that you could inhale his sweet scent. “How it feels looking up at you, you look good from every angle.”

You chuckled. “Oh yeah? Does it also apply for my double chin when I look down?” He froze for half a second. Then he laughed – soft disbelieving, like you had just said something absurd – which in his eyes, was the case.

“Double chin?”, he repeated, still smiling. “Yeah, from certain angles. It’s a thing.” Felix immediately shook his head, stepping even closer until you had no choice but to look down at him.

“No”, he said firmly, but still gentle. “Not a thing. Doesn’t exist.” His expression softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m looking at you right now and I don’t see anything like that, I just see you.”

Your teasing smile faltered a little. Felix tilted his head again, gaze unwavering. “And I still like looking up at you”, he added quietly.

You stepped closer without thinking, now close enough that he didn’t have to reach for you at all. “There”, he said. “That’s perfect. You standing there. Me standing there. Just being close. He squeezed your hand gently, then hesitated for a second – like he had one more thing he needed to do. He smiled, softer now and leaned forward to press a light kiss on your forehead. It lingered just a moment. “Yeah, that’s definitely my favorite angle.”

Seungmin

“Nope, I am taller”, Seungmin said, arms crossed over his chest, staring wholes into your face.

You stared back at him. “No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“We’re literally the same height.”

He stepped closer. “Stand straight.”

“I am standing straight.”

He placed his hand on your head, then his. “See? I am taller.”

“That proves nothing!”

“Back-to-back”, he insisted.

You turned, pressing your back against his. There was a pause.

“Wait”, you said.

“Wait”, he echoed. Exactly the same. You turned at the same time, eyes meeting.

“We’re the same”, you said, satisfied that you were right.

Seungmin clicked his tongue. “No.”

“Yes.”

He squinted at you like this was now a matter of principle. Then without warning he reached out and gently pressed a finger to your forehead. “You’re shorter today”, he declared. You slapped his hand away. “That’s not how height works.”

“It does in my world.”

You sighed, but the corner of your mouth betrayed you. “You’re such a menace.” You reached up and fixed his hair out of habit, smoothing it down where it stuck up slightly. He didn’t move away. In fact he leaned in a fraction, letting you do it.

“There”, you murmured.

Seungmin blinked. “What was that for?”

“You had fluff.”

“I always have fluff.”

“Exactly.”

He stared at you for a second, then reached up and fixed your hair right back – deliberately messing up just slightly afterward.

You gasped. “Seungmin!”

“What?”, he said innocently.

“You ruined my hair.” You tried to fix it, to somehow look decent. “No I modified it a bit.”

You playfully hit his chest. “Doesn’t change anything about the fact, that I am the same height as you.”

He put his hands onto your shoulders, looking at you, eyes still teasing but a little softer underneath it all. “You can be the same height”, he said, leaning in just slightly, “but I’m still the one who’s right.”

I.N.

“Hold still”, you said.

“I am still.”

“You’re moving.”

Jeongin sighed but stayed as you reached up – fixing his hair, smoothing it carefully. You didn’t need to stretch. Same height, same space. Your fingers lingered there for a second.

“There”, you said softly.

“Thanks.”

Neither of you stepped back. Jeongin swallowed slightly. “You’re really focused.”

“You’re really messy”, you replied, but your voice wasn’t as steady as usual. A small smile tugged at his lips. “Do I need fixing often?”

“… Maybe.”

“Then don’t stop.”

Your hand was still near his hair. Jeongin’s gaze flied from your eyes to your hand and back again, like he was quietly memorizing the distance – more like the lack of it. “You know”, he said softly. “It’s weird.”

“What is it?”

“How easy it is”, he admitted. “With you.”

Your breath caught a little, but you tried to keep your tone light. “Fixing your hair?”

“That too”, he said with a small laugh. Then he lifted his own hand, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face in return. “Everything.”

Same height meant he didn’t have to reach up or down. Just forward. Just you.

Your hand finally dropped from his hair, resting lightly against his shoulder instead, not pulling away. “You’re saying weird things again”, you muttered, but he just smiled, softer now. “Weird things for a weird person.”