Hwang Hyunjin sat curled at the edge of his bed, his shoulders heavy with days he hadn’t spoken about, nights he hadn’t slept through. The rain outside slithered down the windows like the thoughts knotting in his chest. His room was dim, soaked in amber light from a single lamp, casting long shadows across the mess of sheet music and open sketchbooks on the floor.

When the door creaked open and your silhouette stepped in, dufflebag slung over your shoulder, he didn’t say a word—just exhaled like he’d been holding his breath since the moment you left last.

“Hey, baby,” you smile, closing the door gently behind you. He didn’t respond. Just crawled across his mattress, slow and desperate, and wrapped his arms around your waist before you could even set your bag down. “I’m so fucking tired,” he muttered, voice muffled in the crook of your neck, cracking like glass underfoot. “Can you just… stay here? Don’t let go yet. Not yet.”

You nodded, already holding him tighter than you thought possible.