Cookie

The mountain wind howled above me like an ancient beast crying into the void, but I barely noticed. I was tucked into a crevice between the cliffs near Minlin, where ley lines twisted and trembled—tainted with the residue of endless battles. A fitting place, really. Where the wounded to to die alone.

I had been here for days. Weeks? Time didn't make sense anymore. Pain flared in my limbs with each movement, a constant reminder that this body wasn't healing—not the way it used to. Not with this karmic debt festering in me like rot. It had grown too heavy. It writhed under my skin like a parasite, gnawing at me from the inside out. Every breath was a war. I thought I could isolate it, contain it, and let it devour me alone.

I was wrong.

Something shifted in the air—a flicker of ancient energy that sang like the sound of a thousand blades drawn at once.

I didn't need to look up.

"You took your time", I rasped, voice like shattered glass. The silence that followed was deafening.

"I didn't want to find you like this," Xiao finally said. He stepped into my view, dusk-green hair catching the last light of day. The mask was gone. So was the usual stiffness he carried like armor. He looked... tired.

And worried.

"I told Zhongli to stay out of it... he sent you, didn't he?" I muttered.

"He didn't listen." Xiao crouched beside me, scanning the blackened veins creeping across my arms. "Neither did I."

I gave a short, humorless laugh. "Still as stubborn as ever."

"You're one to talk."

He reached out, and I flinched instinctively. "Don't."

"I'm not like the others," he said gently, but firmly. "I can bear it."

"No one can bear this," I growled. "You know what happens. You've seen it."

"Yes," he whispered. "I have." Our eyes locked. In his gaze, I saw memories. Screams. A battlefield soaked in ichor and sorrow. Five Yaksha once stood tall. One by one, we'd lost them. Madness, slaughter, sacrifice. And through it all, we had survived.

But survival had a price.

"You always kept your distance," he said quietly. "Even back then."

"I had to." I looked away. "Even when we fought together... I knew what was inside me. What I was capable of. I couldn't—didn't want it to spread."

"You think that distance protected me?" His voice cracked, sharp with pain. "I watched you fall into darkness and convince yourself you were saving everyone by being alone. Do you know what that did to me?"

"I thought I was doing the right thing."

"You weren't." He knelt fully, voice low and raw. "You were punishing yourself."

I didn't answer.

He reached again, this time slower, and took my arms in his hands. the contact was warm. Gentle. And nothing happened. No violent surge. No burst of corruption. Just... stillness.

I stared at him. "Why—how—?"

"I was born for this," he murmured. "To destroy the darkness. To absorb it. I bear my own karmic debt. Yours can't hurt me."

My throat tightened. "You never told me."

"You never let me close enough." He removed the bandages, layer by layer. Dried blood flaked off with the gauze. The gash on my side was infected, purple and red. The skin around it pulsed with blackened energy. "You've had this for too long." His brow furrowed. "Why didn't you call for help?"

"I didn't wanna be seen like this."

"So you'd rather die where no one could find you?"

"Yes!" I snapped, then winced from the pain that flared. "Because at least then, I wouldn't take anyone else with me."

He was quiet for a long time, hands still moving as he cleaned the wound. The silence was heavy. "I thought you were dead," he said at last. "I thought I'd lost you. Like the others."

"You didn't."

"I almost did."

My vision blurred. Whether from blood loss or shame, I couldn't tell. "I didn't want to hurt you, Xiao."

He tied fresh cloth over the wound, hands trembling. "You did anyway."

I looked at him, really looked. Not the vigilant Yaksha. Not the silent guardian of Liyue. Just Xiao—the boy who had stood beside me as the world ended and began again. The boy I once laughed with under starlight before laughter became too costly. "I missed you," I whispered.

He looked up, eyes glassy with something unspoken. "Then why did you leave me?"

"I thought I was saving you."

"You weren't." His voice broke. "You were the only one who understood. The only one who knew. And you left me to carry it alone."

A breath hitched in my chest. I reached for his hand, hesitating only briefly. When our fingers touched, the contact was fragile. Human.

And he didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," I said, voice trembling. "I didn't know how to come back."

"You don't have to know," he said softly. "Just come back." He pulled me gently into his arms. His grip was careful, mindful of every wound, but strong enough that I knew he wasn't going to let go. I buried my face in his shoulder. I hadn't cried in centuries—but now the dam broke. Silent tears soaked into the fabric of his cloak.

"You're not alone," he murmured against my temple. "Not anymore." We stayed like that for what felt like hours. Maybe we were both still broken. Maybe we always would be. But for the first time in a long, long time... the burden felt a little lighter.

I should've known better than to surf Stairway alone.

The waves were monstrous that morning—the kind that lured thrill-seekers and whispered danger. I thought I could handle it. I wanted to prove I was more than just Ari Gibson's girlfriend, more than just someone tagging along behind the Shorehaven crew.

But the ocean had other plans.

I don't remember the wipeout. Just the searing pain in my shoulder, the sound if my board snapping, and the blur of voices as I was pulled from the water.

Now, the sterile scent of the hospital surrounds me, and the rhythmic beeping of machines is my only company. My arm is immobilized, and bruises bloom across my skin like dark flowers.

Ari stormed in earlier, his face a mix of anger and worry.

"What were you thinking?" he snapped, standing at the foot of my bed. "Stairway? Alone? After everything?"

I tried to explain, to make him understand the need I felt to prove myself. But he was too consumed by fear and frustration.

"You could've died," he said, his voice breaking. "Do you know what that would've done to me?"

I turned away, tears stinging my eyes. "I'm sorry," I whispered, but he was already gone.

Days passed. Visitors came and went, but not Ari. Each absence felt like a fresh wound.

On the fourth night, as the sky outside turned a deep indigo, the door creaked open. I looked up to see him standing there, a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping inside. "I was scared. Angry. But mostly scared."

I nodded, unable to speak.

He sat beside me, taking my hand gently. "I should've been here. I let my fear push me away when you needed me most."

"I just wanted to be brave," I said, my voice trembling. "Like you."

He squeezed my hand. "You are brave. But being brave doesn't mean going at it alone."

We sat in silence, the weight of unspoken words settling between us.

"I missed you," I finally said.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

Pain. It was all I could feel, searing through my body like fire. I barely registered the distant sounds of sirens, the flickering neon lights above me, or the way the world tilted violently as I tried to move.

But then there was a rush of wind, a blur of red and gold, and suddenly, warm arms scooped me up.

"(Y/N)!"

Barry's voice was frantic, filled with a desperation I'd never heard from him before. I tried to focus, tried to meet his eyes, but everything was getting blurry.

"Hey, hey, stay with me," he pleaded, his grip tightening around me as he cradled me against his chest. "You're gonna be okay, I promise."

I let out a weak laugh. "Barry... you make a lot of promises."

"And I keep them," he shot back, determination laced in every word.

The next thing I knew, we were moving—fast. The city lights blurred together, and the only thing anchoring me was the steady beat of Barry's heart beneath my cheek.

The pain was unbearable, but I wasn't scared. Not when he was holding me.

"Hang on, (Y/N)," Barry whispered, his voice breaking. "Just a little longer."

--

When the world finally steadied, I found myself in the med bay at S.T.A.R. Labs. Cisco and Caitlin were moving frantically around me, but my eyes were locked on one person—Barry.

He hovered over me, his hands gripping mine like they were the only thing keeping me grounded.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" Caitlin's voice was distant, drowned out by the buzzing in my head.

I blinked, struggling to stay conscious. "Yeah... but everything hurts."

Barry exhaled shakily, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "You're okay now," he whispered.

I could see the tension in his shoulders, the guilt in his eyes. He was blaming himself.

"Not... your fault," I murmured.

He shook his head. "You shouldn't have gotten hurt. I should've—"

"Barry." I squeezed his hand, weak but firm. "I made my choice. Just like you do, every day."

His eyes glistened, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue. But then he let out a shaky breath and nodded.

"You scared me," he admitted, voice raw.

I smiled softly. "I'm okay. Because of you."

Barry leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead. "And I'm never letting anything happen to you again."

Even through the pain, I believed him.

--

The first thing I became aware of when I woke up was warmth.

Not the painful, burning kind that had been consuming my body, but something softer, steadier—comforting.

Then, I heard his voice.

"(Y/N)?"

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim light of the med bay. Barry was right there, his hand wrapped around mine, his face lined with exhaustion.

I glanced around, noticing the darkened screens and the quiet hum of S.T.A.R. Labs at night. "How long...?"

"Almost 24 hours," he admitted, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. "Caitlin said you just needed rest, but..." He swallowed hard. "I couldn't leave you."

My chest tightened.

"Barry—"

"You almost died, (Y/N)," he cuts in, his voice raw. "I had you in my arms, and for a second, I thought—" He stopped, inhaling sharply. "I can't go through that again."

I squeezed his hand, ignoring the dull ache in my limbs. "But you didn't lose me."

His jaw clenched. "I could have."

Silence hung between us, thick with unspoken words.

"You always risk your life," I said softly. "Every time you run into danger, I feel that same fear. But I never ask you to stop, because I know it's who you are. So don't ask me to stop either."

Barry looked at me, eyes searching mine like he was memorizing every detail of my face.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.

"You won't," I promised.

For a moment, he just sat there, staring at me like he was debating something. Then, before I could say another word, he leaned down and pressed his forehead against mine. His breath was warm against my skin, his grip on my hand tightening. "I can't keep pretending," he murmured.

My heart pounded. "Pretending what?"

"That you don't mean everything to me."

Time seemed to freeze. Then, slowly, hesitantly, Barry tilted his head just enough for his lips to brush against mine. It was barely a kiss—just the ghost of one—but it sent electricity through my veins, stronger than any bolt of lightning ever could.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched mine for hesitation. There was none. "I love you, (Y/N)," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A slow smile spread across my lips, despite the pain still lingering in my body. "Good," I murmured. "Because I love you too."

Barry let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding his features. Then, unable to stop himself, he kissed me again—deeper this time, like he had been holding it in for far too long.

The night was cold, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood—my blood. I struggled to keep my eyes open, but the pain in my side was like fire spreading through my body. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps as I collapsed against the damp alley wall.

Footsteps pounded against the pavement. Fast. Desperate.

"(Y/N)!"

Oliver's voice cut through the haze clouding my mind. A second later, strong arms caught me before I hit the ground completely. His scent—leather, sweat, and something undeniably him—wrapped around me as he scooped me up, holding me against his chest.

"Stay with me," he pleaded, his voice rough with worry. "You're gonna be okay, just hold on."

I wanted to reassure him, to crack some joke about how he worried too much, but the pain was overwhelming. Darkness tugged at the edges of my vision as I weakly grasped at the front of his suit.

"You... came for me," I managed to whisper.

His jaw clenched. "Of course I did."

He moved fast, faster than I'd ever felt him move before, his arms tightening around me like he was afraid I'd slip away if he loosened his grip even a little. Every step sent jolts of pain through me, but I could barely register it anymore. All I could focus on was the steady rhythm of Oliver's heartbeat against my ear.

"Almost there," he muttered. "Just stay awake, (Y/N). Don't you dare close your eyes."

I tried. God, I tried. But everything was getting so heavy.

The next thing I knew, the world shifted again, and suddenly, I was on a cold table, the harsh fluorescent lights of the Arrowcave burning into my retinas. Oliver was right there, his hands pressing down on my wound, his face drawn with fear.

"Felicity!" he barked. "I need medical supplies, now!"

"I'm on it!" I heard her frantic typing in the background.

Oliver's fingers trembled slightly as he applied pressure to my wound. It was rare to see him like this—scared. But his voice, though tight, was steady. "You're not dying on me, (Y/N). You hear me?"

I forced a weak smirk. "You... worried, Queen?"

His eyes flashed with something intense. "Of course I'm worried," he admited, voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushed against my cheek, gentle, reverent. "You're not just another soldier in the field. "You're—" He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. "You're important to me."

I tried to hold onto his gaze, but the pain was too much. My body gave in, and the last thing I felt was Oliver's hand tightening around mine.

"I've got you," he murmured. "I'm not letting you go."

Darkness swallowed me whole, but somehow, I knew he'd keep his promise.

--

Pain was the first thing I registered as I slowly drifted back into consciousness. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed through my side, but it was nothing compared to the crushing exhaustion weighing down my limbs.

I tried to move, but a firm hand gently pressed me back down.

"Don't," Oliver's voice was low, rough, and closer than I expected. "You're still healing."

I forced my eyes open, blinking against the dim lighting of the Arrowcave. My head swam as I tried to take in my surroundings. The monitors hummed softly, casting a blue glow across the room. Felicity and Diggle were nowhere in sight. But Oliver— was right beside me, sitting on the edge of the medical table, his hand still gripping mine.

"You stayed," I murmured, my voice hoarse.

His jaw tightened. "Of course I did."

I tried to sit up, but pain flared through my side, making me suck in a sharp breath. Immediately, Oliver's other hand came to rest on my shoulder, steadying me.

"Take it easy," he warned.

I let out a weak laugh. "When do I ever take it easy?"

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he just stared at me, like he was trying to convince himself that I was really here—that I was still breathing. Then, before I could say anything else, his grip on my hand tightened.

"You almost died, (Y/N)." His voice was raw, his usual controlled exterior cracking at the edges. "I carried you in here, covered in blood, and for a second, I thought—" He cut himself off, inhaling sharply. "I thought I was going to lose you."

I swallowed hard. I'd seen Oliver worried before, but never like this. Never this shaken.

"I'm still here," I whispered, squeezing his hand as best as I could.

His fingers curled around mine, like he was grounding himself in the warmth of my touch. "Yeah," he murmured. "You are."

A heavy silence settled between us. His thumb brushed absently over my knuckles, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart sutter.

"Oliver..." I hesitated. "I've been doing this long enough to know the risks. I knew what I was walking into."

His jaw clenched. "That doesn't mean I have to be okay with it."

I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, he let out a breath, his head dipping slightly as if the weight of the moment was too much.

"I'm not okay with it, (Y/N)," he admitted. "Because if something ever happened to you—" His voice wavered, and for the first time, I saw it. The fear. The vulnerability. "I can't lose you."

A lump formed in my throat.

I could've played it off, made some sarcastic comment to lighten the tension. But this wasn't a moment for deflection. Not this time.

So instead, I lifted my free hand, weak as it was, and rested it against his cheek. His breath hitched, but he didn't pull away.

"You won't lose me," I promised softly.

His eyes searched mine, something unreadable flashing through them. Then, slowly, he turned his face into my touch, pressing a gentle kiss against the inside of my palm.

"I mean it, (Y/N)," he whispered.

It started with darkness.

Then the voices.

Harsh, cruel whispers echoing around me. Cold hands grabbing at me, pulling me down, down, down—

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't move.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out—

"(Y/N)!"

A different voice—one I recognized.

I shot up with a gasp, my chest heaving. My room was dark, the sheets tangled around me from how much I had been thrashing. My whole body was shaking, my face damp with sweat and tears.

"(Y/N)"

I looked up and nearly cried all over again. Min Ho stood in my doorway, his expression frantic. His hair was messy, like he had just rolled out of bed, and he was wearing loose pajama pants and a hoodie he had probably thrown on in a rush.

But it was his eyes that got to me. They were filled with fear.

Without thinking, I whispered, "You heard me?"

He took two steps forward, then hesitated. "You were screaming."

Oh. I bit my lip, embarrassed. "I—I had a nightmare." My voice was small, shaky.

Min Ho's whole expression softened. Slowly, he walked over and sat at the edge of my bed. "Are you okay?"

I tried to nod, but my throat tightened, and suddenly, the tears came back.

Min Ho's breath hitched. And then, before I could stop him, he pulled me into his arms. I stiffened at first, caught off guard by how warm he was, by how his scent surrounded me—clean, familiar, safe.

Then I sank into him. I pressed my face into his shoulder, my fingers gripping the back of his hoodie as a few quiet sobs escaped.

Min Ho tightened his hold on me. "Shh, it's okay. I've got you."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "It felt so real."

"I know," he murmured, rubbing small circles on my back. "But it wasn't. You're safe, (Y/N). I won't let anything happen to you."

My heart ached at his words.

After a long moment, my breathing slowed, and I felt myself relax against him.

"Better?" he asked softly.

I nodded against his shoulder. "Yeah."

But when he tried to pull away, I gripped his hoodie tighter.

"(Y/N)?"

"Stay," I whispered. "Just for a little while?"

Min Ho hesitated, then let out a quiet chuckle. "You're really asking me that when I was already planning on staying the whole night?"

My breath caught. "You were?"

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Of course. I wasn't gonna leave you alone after that."

Warmth spread through my chest. I swallowed, suddenly nervous. "Um... do you wanna—" I hesitated, then patted the spot next to me.

Min Ho smirked. "Are you asking me to sleep in your bed, (Y/N)?"

I rolled my eyes, cheeks heating. "Just stay, Min Ho."

He chuckled, then slid under the covers with me. And as I curled into his warmth, his arm draped protectively around me, I finally felt safe enough to close my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid of the nightmares anymore.

It had been a week.

A week of silence.

A week of Min Ho walking past me like I didn't exist. A week of him ignoring my texts, pretending not to hear me when I spoke, acting like I wasn't the person he used to kiss goodnight.

I tried to act normal. To pretend it didn't hurt.

But it did. It killed me.

I didn't know what I had done. That was the worst part. I replayed every conversation, every moment we had spent together, searching for the mistake I didn't even know I had made.

But I came up with nothing.

And now, sitting alone on the rooftop, I finally let the tears fall.

I pulled my knees to my chest, my fingers gripping my sweater sleeves as I tried to breathe through the pain. The city lights blurred through my tears, and a choked sob escaped before I could stop it.

Why? Why was he doing this? Why did it feel like I had lost him without even knowing why?

"(Y/N)?"

The voice I had been longing to hear.

I stiffened, quickly wiping at my face. "Go away, Min Ho."

He didn't listen.

Of course, he didn't.

Instead, he stepped closer, his voice sharp but hesitant. "Are you seriously crying right now?"

I scoffed, still refusing to look at him. "Wow. You finally noticed me."

He exhaled, and I heard the frustration in his voice. "(Y/N), don't start—"

"Don't start?" I snapped, finally lifting my head. My vision was still blurry with tears, but I didn't care. "Are you serious right now? You've been ignoring me for a week, Min Ho! A whole week! And I have no idea why!"

He clenched his jaw. "Maybe you should think harder."

My heart cracked. "I have been thinking. I've been thinking every second of every day, trying to figure out what I did to make you hate me." My voice broke at the last part.

Min Ho flinched.

His expression flickered—just for a second. Like he wasn't as sure about his anger as he wanted to be.

I wiped my face angrily. "If you're just going to stand there and act like I'm the villain, then—"

"She told me you cheated."

The words knocked the breath out of me.

I stared at him. "What?"

"Stella," he muttered, his voice laced with something bitter. "She said she saw you with someone else. That you were just playing me."

My stomach dropped.

"Stella said—" I cut myself off, my blood running cold. "And you believed her?"

Min Ho tensed. "I didn't want to—"

"Oh my God." I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "You believed her over me."

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "(Y/N), she sounded convincing, and I—"

I took a shaky breath, my eyes burning, "I would never do that to you."

He stared at me.

"I love you," I whispered, voice cracking. "And you threw me away because of a stupid lie?"

Min Ho's face fell completely. "(Y/N)..."

"I needed you, Min Ho," I whispered. "I needed you, and you weren't there."

Silence.

For the first time, Min Ho looked at me like he was actually seeing me. And his expression shifted—from anger to realization. To regret.

Then, suddenly, he closed the space between us.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in so tightly that I almost lost my breath.

I tensed at first, my heart pounding. But then I sank into him, my hands gripping the fabric of his sweater like he might disappear.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into my hair. "God, I'm so sorry."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Why did you believe her?"

His hold tightened. "Because I was stupid. And scared."

I let out a shaky breath. "You hurt me."

He nodded against me. "I know. And i'll spend forever making it up to you."

We stayed like that for a while—just holding each other, breathing in the warmth we had been missing.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against mine. "I love you, (Y/N)."

I searched his eyes, looking for any hesitation. But there was none. Just pure, raw honesty.

Despite everything, I still loved him.

And I always would.

"Promise me you'll never do that again," I whispered.

He cupped my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek. "I promise."

I let out a breath, finally letting myself relax against him. "Then I forgive you."

His whole body sagged with relief, and he pulled me back into his arms, holding me close.

"Let's go inside," he murmured. "I'm not letting you of of my sight for the rest of the night."

I don't know when it started.

That feeling.

Like I was on the outside looking in.

Kitty, Q, Florian, Yuri—everyone had their place. Their connections. Their friendships. And then there was me. The little sister. Always there, but never really part of it.

I tried not to let it get to me.

I smiled, laughed at their jokes, went along with their plans. But deep down, I wondered... if I weren't here, would it even matter?

And then, one day, it happened.

--

It was raining.

I had been walking alone, lost in my thoughts, not really paying attention to anything around me. I didn't see the car until it was too late.

There was a sharp honk. Tires screeching. A blur of headlights.

Then—pain.

And everything went black.

--

I woke up in the hospital to warmth. A steady, solid grip on my hand.

I blinked slowly, my vision adjusting to the bright hospital lights. My whole body ached, but the first thing I saw was Min Ho.

His head was resting against our joined hands, his usually perfect hair messy, his face tight with stress.

"Min Ho...?" My voice came out hoarse.

His head shot up, and the relief in his eyes was instant. "(Y/N)."

Before I could say anything else, he was gripping my hand tighter, his other hand brushing the hair from my face. "Oh my God. You're awake. Do you have any idea how scared I was?"

I blinked in confusion, my heart twisting at the raw emotion in his voice. "You were... scared?"

His jaw clenched, and for the first time in my life, I saw Min Ho look completely vulnerable. "Of course, I was scared! You—" He exhaled shakily, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before looking back at me. "I thought I was going to lose you."

A lump formed in my throat.

Before I could respond, I heard more voices.

"(Y/N)!"

I turned my head slightly and saw them.

Kitty, Q, Florian, Yuri, Juliana, even Dae. They were all there.

"You scared the hell out of us!" Kitty said, rushing forward, her usual confident demeanor cracking as she hugged me—gently but firmly. "Do you know how worried we were?"

I felt something inside me crack.

"You were... worried?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

Min Ho let out a disbelieving laugh. "Are you serious right now?"

I flinched slightly, and his face softened immediately. He moved closer, cupping my face gently. "(Y/N). Of course, we were worried. We care about you. I care about you. You're my little sister—I don't know what I would do if something happened to you."

Tears welled in my eyes. "I thought... I thought no one cared. That I didn't really matter to anyone."

The room went silent.

Then, suddenly, Min Ho's arms were around me, holding me so tight it almost hurt—but I didn't care. I burried my face in his shoulder, my tears soaking into his shirt.

"Don't ever say that again," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You do matter. More than you'll ever know."

I clung to him, finally letting out all the pain I had kept inside for so long.

Around us, the others moved closer, their presence warm, comforting. Kitty rubbed my back, Q squeezed my arm, Yuri sat at the edge of my bed, all of them surrounding me, making it clear—I wasn't alone.

I had never been alone.

I tried to ignore it.

The whispers in the hallways, the cruel looks, the way they "accidentally" bumped into me too hard. At first, I told myself it wasn't a bit deal. That if I didn't react, they'd get bored and move on.

But they didn't.

It only got worse.

I never told anyone. Not Yuri, not Q, and definitely not Min Ho.

Min Ho.

The thought of him made my heart twist. He was the one person I wanted to tell, the one I wished would notice. But he was always surrounded by people, always so confident and untouchable. And me? I was barely holding it together.

Then, today happened.

I had been cornered after class, shoved into the supply closet when no one was looking. Their laughter echoed in my ears as I hit the floor, pain shooting through my side. My lip stung where one of them had slapped me, and my wrist ached from the fall.

By the time I managed to crawl out, the halls were empty. My body hurt, but my heart hurt worse.

I don't know how long I sat there, curled up on the floor, trying to breathe through the pain. But then—

"(Y/N)?"

My heart stopped.

I looked up, and there he was. Min Ho. Standing just a few feet away, his usual confident smirk replaced by a lok of pure shock.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked, voice sharp with concern as he crouched down.

I wiped at my eyes, trying to pull myself together. "It's nothing."

His jaw clenched. "That's not nothing." His fingers grazed my chin, tilting my face up so he could see the cut on my lip. His eyes darkened. "Who did this to you?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter."

Min Ho exhaled sharply, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Are you serious right now? You're hurt, and you're telling me it doesn't matter?"

I looked away. "You didn't care before."

That made him freeze.

"What?"

"You saw them messing with me," I whispered. "You never stepped in."

His expression twisted with something I couldn't quite read. Guilt? Regret?

"I thought..." He sighed, running a hand down his face. "I didn't know it was this bad. And I—" He hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I was scared, okay?"

I frowned. "Scared?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. Scared. I like you, (Y/N). More than I should. And I thought if I got involved, if I made it obvious, it would only make things worse for you. But I was wrong." His voice softened as he brushed a tear off my cheek. "I should've been there for you."

My chest tightened. "Min Ho..."

"I'm here now," He said firmly. "And I'm not going anywhere."

For the first time in weeks, I felt something other than fear. I felt safe.

--

That night, in Min Ho's dorm he insisted on taking care of me. He cleaned my cuts, got me ice for my wrist, and made me tea even though he didn't really know how.

And now, somehow, we were curled up on his bed, my head resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around me protectively.

I felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his body against mine.

"You're staying here tonight," he murmured.

I looked up at him. "Bossy much?"

He smirked, but there was nothing teasing about the way his fingers brushed through my hair. "I just don't want you to be alone."

I sighed, melting into him. "I don't want to be alone either."

His grip tightened slightly, like he was making a silent promise. "You won't be. Not anymore."

It started out small. Min Ho had always been popular, always surrounded by people, but lately, it felt different. Every time you turned around, Stella was there—laughing at his jokes, touching his arm, leaning in too close.

You tried to tell yourself it didn't bother you. You and Min Ho were just friends. Best friends, actually. But lately, you felt like you were losing him.

Like now.

You sat at the KISS courtyard, your book open but unread, as your eyes flickered to where Min Ho and Stella sat together under a tree. You could hear them laughing, and it made your stomach twist.

"You're staring," Q's voice interrupted your thoughts as he sat beside her.

"I'm not," you muttered, turning a page you hadn't even read.

Q raised an eyebrow. "You totally are. And you're doing that thing where you chew your lip when you're mad."

You quickly stopped, crossing your arms. "It's nothing. He can hang out with whoever he wants."

Q smirked. "Sure, sure. But you should probably stop glaring before you set her on fire."

You groaned, closing your book. "I'm not glaring."

Q just laughed. "Right. And I'm not sitting here watching you lose your mind over Min Ho."

You ignored him, but the jealousy wouldn't go away. It only got worse when Min Ho barely paid attention to you all day.

By the time evening rolled around, you had reached your limit.

--

That night at the dorms you stormed into the common area, and sure enough, Min Ho was there, scrolling on his phone.

"Hey, you," he greeted casually, flashing you a smile.

You didn't smile back. "Hey."

Min Ho immediately frowned, lowering his phone. "What's with the face?"

"I don't have a face."

"You do. That's your 'I'm mad but pretending I'm not' face."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not mad."

Min Ho leaned back, crossing his arms. "(Y/N). Come on."

Your frustration exploded before you could stop it. "Fine. You've been ignoring me all day! Actually, all week. Every time I turn around, you're with Stella. Do you even realize how annoying that is?"

Min Ho blinked. "Wait... that's what this is about?"

"Yes!" you burst out. "You've been acting like I don't even exist! I get it, okay? She's pretty and fun and—"

Min Ho suddenly laughed. Laughed.

Your jaw dropped. "Are you seriously laughing at me right now?"

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "(Y/N), you're jealous."

You froze. "No, I'm not"

He stepped closer, a smirk playing on his lips. "You totally are."

You tried to back away, but he caught your wrist gently. "(Y/N)." His voice was softer now. "You really think I'd forget about you? That I'd like someone else?"

You looked up at him, heart pounding. "I don't know what to think anymore."

Min Ho sighed and, without warning, pulled you into a tight hug. "You're an idiot," he murmured against your hair.

Your eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he chuckled, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "I've only been hanging out with Stella because she was helping me plan something for you."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What?"

Min Ho smiled. "I was trying to get her advice on how to ask you out. Turns out, I didn't need to, because you just admitted you like me."

Your face burned. "I—wait, what?"

Min Ho grinned and cupped your face. "You like me, don't you?"

You swallowed hard, trying to look anywhere but at him. "...Maybe."

He tilted your chin so you had to meet his eyes. "Good. Because I like you too. A lot."

You felt your breath catch. "Then why didn't you just tell me?"

He chuckled. "I thought it was obvious."

You groaned. "You're so annoying."

Min Ho smirked. "And you're so cute when you're jealous."

You shoved him lightly, but he just laughed and pulled you close again. "So... are we finally making this official?"

You hesitated for only a second before smiling. "Yeah. We are."