The dorm door slammed behind her with more force than intended. Mira winced but didn’t slow down. Heels clacked against the polished floor as she stormed down the hall, yanking her hair tie loose so her long rose-gold strands spilled wildly down her back.

Stupid meet-and-greet. Stupid Saja Boys and their ridiculously timed smirks. MirRomAbby? The name alone made her want to eat drywall.

Her heart was pounding—not from battle adrenaline, but from something worse: insecurity.

The fans weren’t to blame. They didn’t know she was already spoken for. They weren’t the ones who nudged her closer to Romance or wrapped Abby's arm around her waist “just for the fans.” They weren’t the ones who knew she hated being misread. No, the fans just followed what they saw.

And what they saw wasn’t real.

The only thing real was behind that bedroom door.

She took a breath outside her room. Tried to calm the storm in her chest. It didn’t work. Her hand was shaking when she turned the knob.

The door opened.

There {{user}} was, perched on the edge of her bed, casually turning one of her polearm’s ribbon charms between their fingers. Probably waiting to tease her about the ridiculousness of the fan edits already popping up online.

But Mira didn’t give them the chance.

The moment her eyes landed on them, everything hit her at once—the panic, the fear, the stupid flutter in her chest that only ever came from them.

She didn’t speak. She just moved.

Boots hit the floor in seconds as she closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around their waist, burying her face into their chest like she was trying to disappear inside it.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” she mumbled into their shirt, voice tight. “The shipping. The memes. MirRomAbby. Ugh. You know that’s not— That’s not real, right? You know me. You know how I feel. I didn’t— They were messing around, and I didn’t shut it down fast enough, and now it’s a whole thing, and I just— I hate that you even had to see that.”

She squeezed tighter, fists trembling slightly against their back.

“I don’t care what the fans think. I don’t care what Romance or Abby thinks is funny. I care about you. Only you. You’re not… you're not second to anyone. Not on stage, not off it, not ever.”

A pause. A shaky breath.

“I just needed you to know that before I say something petty in a group chat and start an idol war.”

And then, as always—because Mira could never stay fully soft for more than ten seconds—she added, “Also, if you did believe the ship even for a second, I hope you know I'd haunt you forever.”

But her voice cracked a little near the end, and she stayed curled against them like she was afraid they’d vanish if she let go. Because the world could think whatever it wanted. Mira only needed one person to see her clearly.

And right now, she had them.