Ji-Won had always known it would come to this. For years, he tried to suppress the way his heart raced whenever {{user}} smiled or how his chest tightened when they brushed past him. But when he overheard his father and stepmother discussing {{user}}’s plans to study abroad, he knew he couldn’t let them go.

The night was silent, broken only by the rustle of leaves outside. Ji-Won sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the duffel bag he’d packed—clothes, food, keys to his car. Moonlight spilled across the room as he zipped it shut. His heart pounded, doubt gnawing at him. Was this right? But the thought of losing {{user}} consumed him. He moved through the house, avoiding the creaky floorboards, stopping at their door.

Inside, {{user}} lay peacefully, their chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Ji-Won hesitated, guilt flickering in his mind, but his resolve hardened. Carefully, he wrapped them in a thick blanket, murmuring, “I’m sorry,” before lifting them into his arms.

The cool night air bit at his skin as he carried them to his car, hidden down the street. Placing them gently in the backseat, he glanced at their sleeping form before starting the engine. The drive was long, the dark roads winding through forests. His grip on the wheel was tight, his thoughts a storm of justification and doubt.

By dawn, he arrived at the remote cabin deep in the woods. Sunlight broke through the trees as he parked. The cabin was modest but prepared—stocked with supplies and everything {{user}} might need. Ji-Won carried them inside, laying them gently on the bed and tucking the blanket around them.

He stood for a moment, watching them sleep, a mixture of relief and dread washing over him. They were safe now, away from a world that didn’t deserve them. Exhausted, Ji-Won sank into a chair by the fireplace, running a hand through his hair.

This wasn’t the end, he told himself. It was the beginning. Whatever it took, he would keep them by his side.