You noticed something was wrong the moment Su-ho stopped talking.

It wasn’t dramatic. There was no sudden silence, no obvious sign. He just… faded. When the group settled into your room---Yeong-i immediately claiming your chair, Beom-seok lingering awkwardly by the wall, Si-eun sitting neatly with a book---Su-ho chose the floor, like he couldn't bear to stand for a second more. He leaned his back against your bed and stayed there, shoulders slouched, legs stretched out, hands resting uselessly by his sides.

He looked drained.

His eyes didn’t follow the conversation. His reactions came late, if at all. When Yeong-i laughed loudly at something Beom-seok said, Su-ho flinched, jaw tightening, irritation flashing across his face before he forced it back down.

You glanced at him and asked: “You okay?”, while you sat down on the edge of your bed.

He hummed, noncommittal. “M’fine.”

But he wasn’t.

A few minutes passed. Then, without warning, he shifted. His body slid down slightly until the side of his head bumped gently against your legs. The movement was heavy, careless, like his body had made the decision before his mind could stop it.

You stiffened in surprise. “Su-ho---”

“Mm...” He interrupted quietly. His eyes were already closed. “Just… don’t move.”

One of his hands lifted and curled into the fabric of your pants, fingers gripping like he needed the contact to stay upright. You could feel the warmth of him through your clothes, the weight of his exhaustion settling in.

Si-eun looked over briefly. “He worked all night,” He said calmly. “Didn’t sleep.”

“That explains why he looks like he’s two seconds from snapping,” Yeong-i whispered, though she lowered her voice.

Su-ho frowned. “You are snapping,” He muttered. “At my head.”

“See?” She said. “Grumpy.”

He shifted again, irritation making him restless, but instead of pulling away, he pressed his cheek more firmly into your legs. It almost looked like an attempt at hiding, from what exactly though, it wasn't clear.

When you adjusted slightly to get comfortable, his grip tightened instantly.

You sighed out his name, tone soft. "Su-ho," You murmured. “I’m not leaving, but don't you want to lay on the bed?”

He relaxed just a little. The answer didn't come, you took it as a no.

You hesitated before placing your hand in his hair. The reaction was immediate. His shoulders loosened, breath leaving him in a slow exhale, tension bleeding out as if your touch flipped a switch. He leaned into it without shame, fingers still curled into your clothes, clingy in a way he never was when he had energy.

He fumbled something illegible, you didn't push him to repeat.

The room adapted around him. Si-eun turned his pages carefully. Yeong-i stopped moving around so much. Even Beom-seok seemed to breathe softer. Su-ho stayed still, eyes closed, irritation fading into exhaustion.

“Why’d we even come out,” He muttered after a while. “Could’ve stayed somewhere quiet.”

“You wanted to,” You reminded him gently. “You said you were fine.”

He scoffed weakly. “I lie when I’m tired.”

You smiled faintly, thumb brushing slowly through his hair. His fingers twitched at every movement, tightening whenever you paused, loosening when you continued.

“You’re warm,” He added, barely audible.

“Sleep,” You whispered.

He didn’t argue. He didn’t joke. He didn’t push anyone away.

He stayed there with his head resting on your legs, holding onto you like you were the last thing keeping him awake---completely worn out, quietly irritable, and trusting you enough to shut down right where he felt safest.

"So," Yeong-i hummed from the side. "...This..." She vaguely gestured toward you and Su-ho. "...Means you two are a thing?"

Her lips curved upward, teasing.