#wjh

Junhui knew you better than you’d like to admit.

Having met by pure chance during your sophomore year of college, he had refused to leave your side—or life, rather—after breaking down the walls you had built up so high to protect yourself from the uncertainty of the world. 

He had sheltered you from the crumbling rubble and proved, time and time again, that he’d be there for you no matter the circumstances. He’s never done anything to make you believe otherwise and he knows that—he reminds himself of that—but it doesn’t provide much aid when he realizes you have been succumbing to the harsher side of your mind and he only just realized it. A part of him blames himself for not being more aware of the signs and being too caught up on work but he doesn’t dwell on his guilt for long. Not when he met your gaze from the kitchen island as you closed the door behind you and he saw the look of utter defeat on your face and he understood. Neither of you said anything–there was no need–and yet the silence surrounding you was so loud. You wished it was actually noisy, wished you could go unnoticed by everyone and everything but you couldn’t, because through a single glance, you had already told Jun everything. 

Your bag fell to the ground with a thud as you began stepping in his direction only for him to close the distance between you two before you could take another step. He doesn’t even waste a second before pulling you towards him and letting you bury your face into his chest as his arms wrapped around you. It was only then that you finally allowed yourself to fall apart, sobs wrecking through your body as Jun brought a hand up to hold the back of your head. 

“I’ve got you, love.” He cooed while stroking your hair as his free hand held you closer to his chest. “I’m here now, I’ve got you.” 

He repeated the words softly, contrasting the strong—but comforting—hold he held you in. It was almost as if he was scared that you’d fall apart if he let you go even an inch but when he remembered the look of defeat painted across your face, he held you a bit tighter anyways and closed his eyes as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. 

The two of you remained like that for a while, him whispering soft reassurances against your skin while you buried your face into his shirt, your hands balled up into fists clutching the sides of it as he held you. By the time you had calmed down, a majority of your body weight was leaning against him and in a softer scenario, he would’ve laughed. But this wasn’t one of those times. Instead, he supported your weight and asked if you’d like to go to bed, when your response in the form of a silent nod came, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and carried you in the direction of the bedroom. Before you even reached the bed however, Jun had taken you to the bathroom where he helped you wash your face—kissing at your cheeks where the salt had turned the skin red and irritated—and helped you change out of your outdoor clothes into one of his shirts.

When he finally brought you to bed, he wasted no time in wrapping the blanket around you and making sure you were comfortable, missing the way your brows slightly furrowed when you noticed he wasn’t actually under the covers with you. As he went to leave the bed, your hand had grabbed onto his wrist and was gently tugging him back. He glanced down at the sight and smiled before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, then lips, and saying he’s just going to turn off the lights, squeezing your hand reassuringly before you reluctantly let it go. 

You watch as he first pulls the blinds shut before turning to switch off the light then finally coming back to bed as promised. He’s still adjusting the blanket to cover you both when you suddenly latch onto him, burying your face against his chest as he finally manages to fix the covers and is wrapping his own arms around you.

“I love you.” He says, though it’s mumbled as he presses a kiss on the top of your head. He repeats it again, soft but clearer this time, and he smiles as you nuzzle closer to him. 

A beat passes and suddenly, “Jun?”