come takе a seat in your fantasy ──

—The library was supposed to be quiet, but your thoughts were anything but.

You stared at the same paragraph for the fifth time, eyes blurring as the words refused to stick. Your notes were scattered across the desk, highlighters uncapped, coffee gone cold hours ago. Your shoulders ached from hunching forward, and your head felt heavy, like it might tip right onto the page if you let it.

You didn’t hear Hongjoong at first.

He stopped just a few steps away, taking in the sight of you slumped over your desk, pen loosely trapped between your fingers. Your brow was furrowed even in stillness, lips parted like you were mid-sigh. There were faint shadows under your eyes he didn’t remember seeing this morning.

He frowned softly. “My love,” he murmured, voice low so he wouldn’t startle you.

You stirred, blinking slowly as you lifted your head. It took a second for recognition to settle, your expression shifting from dazed to faintly relieved.

“Oh,” you breathed. “Hey.”

“That’s it?” He leaned against the edge of the desk, studying you. “No smile? No ‘I missed you’?”

You tried. It came out weak and crooked. “Missed you,” you said, sounding more tired than affectionate, and somehow that hurt his chest more.

Hongjoong reached out without thinking, brushing his thumb gently under your eye. “How long have you been here?”

You shrugged. “Since… morning? I think.”

He glanced at the clock on the wall and exhaled through his nose. “It’s almost ten.”

Your shoulders slumped further. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That explains the look.”

You laughed once, short and humorless, then rubbed your face with both hands. When you dropped them, your eyes were glossy.

“I can’t get anything done,” you admitted. “There’s too much. Every time I finish one thing, three more pop up. And then I start thinking about everything else I’m behind on and—” Your voice wobbled. You stopped, pressing your lips together.

Hongjoong stepped closer, sliding your chair back just enough to fit himself between your knees, then crouched down. His hands rested warm and steady on your thighs.

“Hey,” he said firmly, but gently. “Look at me.”

You did, even though your eyes immediately burned. He didn’t rush you. He just waited, thumbs pressing warm, steady reassurance into your thighs.

“Breathe,” he said quietly. “Just for a second.”

You inhaled. It came out shaky. “There you go,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”

Your shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of you all at once. “I feel stupid,” you said. “I’m behind and tired and I can’t even focus.”

“You’re not stupid,” he replied without hesitation. “You’re overwhelmed.”

He stood then, pulling you up with him and into his chest. His arms wrapped around you fully this time, solid and familiar. You melted into him, forehead resting against his shoulder as his hand slid up your back in slow, grounding strokes.

“It’s been a lot lately,” he said near your ear. “Anyone would feel like this.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“Come on,” he said after a moment. “Pack up.”

You pulled back slightly. “I still have stuff to do.”

“And you’ll do it,” he said calmly. “Just not tonight.”

You watched as he packed your things with more care than you’d had all night, zipping the bag closed before slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“You’re really serious about this,” you muttered

He shot you a look over his shoulder. “Extremely.”

Outside, the cool air hit your face, and you shivered without meaning to. Hongjoong noticed immediately, tugging you closer as you walked. His arm wrapped around you, hand resting comfortably at your side.

“You eat yet?” he asked.

You sighed. “No.”

“Thought so.”

The convenience store was warm and bright, a little too much after the quiet of the library. Hongjoong guided you down the aisles, grabbing instant ramen, a bottle of water, and one of your favorite snacks without asking.

You sat at the small table by the window while he prepared the ramen. When he slid the cup toward you, steam curling into the air, your stomach finally reminded you how hungry you were.

You took a few bites before he noticed your hands shaking slightly.

Without a word, he took the fork from you, twirling the noodles carefully before holding it out.

You blinked. “Joong. I can feed myself.”

“I know,” he said easily. “Humor me.”

You frowned. “You don’t need to baby me.”

He laughed, quiet and warm. “Let me take care of you for five minutes. I promise it won’t ruin your independence.”

You rolled your eyes, but leaned forward anyway, accepting the bite. The warmth settled in your chest this time, not just your stomach.

“See?” he said. “Still the same person.”

By the time you finished eating, the tightness in your shoulders had eased. The walk home was slower, calmer. When you reached your front gate, you stopped, suddenly not ready to let the night end.

Hongjoong set your bag down and pulled you into him, arms wrapping around you like it was the most natural thing in the world. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Text me when you're going to sleep,” he said quietly. “And tomorrow, we’ll make a plan together. You don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He tilted your chin up, pressing one last soft kiss to your lips, then another to your forehead.

“Get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”

You watched him walk away feeling lighter than you had all day, glancing back once to make sure you were smiling this time.

You were.