The trailer walls were thin; you could hear your parents arguing through them most nights. Their voices had become background noise, like the hum of the broken fridge or the leaky faucet that never stopped dripping. That night, you slipped outside, knees pulled to your chest as you sat in the patchy grass, staring at the stars the way you always did when you needed to feel like there was something bigger than this small, suffocating life.

Your voice was barely louder than the cicadas when you whispered into the dark. “I just want someone real. Someone who could take me away from this… who could hold me and never let me feel this empty again.”

And then—just as if the sky had been listening—a streak of light tore across the heavens. A shooting star. You sucked in a breath, heart lurching, and in a rush of desperation you made your wish:

A man. A real man. Someone strong enough to carry me out of this place, gentle enough to treat me like I matter, wise enough to help me build a future. Please. And someone who will never look at anyone else—only me.

You shut your eyes, clinging to the words until your chest ached. When you opened them again, the yard was the same—dry grass, broken-down car, the porch light flickering like it was about to give out. A bitter laugh slipped from you, thin and tired, and you stood to your feet.

Inside, your parents were still at it. You ignored them, slipped into your room, and crawled into your narrow bed. Just a stupid wish, you thought, pulling the thin blanket up to your chin. Nothing ever changes for me.

Sleep claimed you fast.

⸻

But morning was different.

You woke to warmth. Strong arms wrapped securely around your waist, a hand resting against your stomach like it had always been there. Your eyes snapped open, breath caught in your throat.

Slowly, you turned your head—

And there he was.

Seokjin. Broad-shouldered, his hair falling across his brow, features both soft and sharp in the pale morning light. His eyes opened as if he felt you looking, and when they met yours, there was no confusion, no distance. Just focus. Just you.

His smile bloomed gentle and sure, the kind that could melt the heaviest shadows. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, like he’d always belonged here.