winter always made everything quieter.

the sidewalks glittered with thin frost, streetlights humming softly above the empty road, and ohyul had both hands shoved deep into his coat pockets as he waited outside your apartment building. his breath came out in pale clouds. he checked his phone once, twice.

then the door opened.

you stepped out, scarf wrapped up to your nose, eyes bright even in the cold. the tip of your nose was pink already. he smiled immediately, the kind he only ever wore around you.

“you’re going to freeze,” he said, though he was already walking toward you.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “i’m fine.”

you were not fine.

your lips were slightly swollen, the skin at the corner faintly split again. winter had been cruel this year. no matter how much lip balm you used, they stayed sensitive, delicate, always catching the dry air wrong. even smiling too wide sometimes left them aching.

ohyul noticed instantly. he always did.

he reached up gently, thumb brushing just barely against your lower lip. “it happened again.”

“it’s nothing,” you mumbled, embarrassed.

his brows pulled together. “it’s not nothing if it hurts.”

you tried to shrug it off, but the truth was the cold burned. every breath of air felt sharp. and kissing — which he loved to do — only made it worse after.

as if summoned by the universe, his phone buzzed.

ryul: bro did you bring her cocoa or are you useless

woojin: louis says if noona gets sick it’s your fault

ohyul snorted.

“what?” you asked.

“they’re bullying me,” he said, already typing back. he shoved the phone away. “ignore them. they act like i can’t take care of you.”

you tilted your head. “can you?”

he gave you that soft look “watch me.”

instead of dragging you on a walk like originally planned, he guided you back toward the building entrance. “new plan.”

“ohyul-”

“nope. inside.”

he took off his gloves once you were upstairs in your apartment lobby, rubbing his hands together until they were warm. then he cupped your cheeks carefully, thumbs resting just under your ears.

“stay still.”

you did.

he leaned in, but instead of kissing you right away, he pressed his forehead to yours first. slow. gentle. his breath warming the space between you. he stayed like that for a moment, letting the heat from his skin melt away the sting on your face.

when he finally kissed you, it was careful. soft. barely there. like he was afraid you might shatter.

still, you winced a little when your lips brushed too firmly.

he pulled back instantly. “see? it hurts.”

“just a little,” you whispered.

he sighed, brushing his thumb under your lip again. “you always pretend you’re tougher than you are.”

“i'm tough.”

“yeah,” he said quietly. “but you’re also mine.”

he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small tube. strawberry flavored. he’d made ryul go back into the store because he said the mint one would sting you more. woojin had complained about standing in line again. louis had taken pictures.

ohyul twisted the cap off and held it up. “may i?”

you nodded.

he applied it slowly, carefully, like it was the most important job in the world. his fingers were warm now. the balm left a faint shine on your lips.

“better?” he asked.

you tested it, pressing them together gently. the sting dulled.

“yeah.”

he smiled again — softer this time. victorious.

“good. because if you keep getting hurt, ryul’s going to start saying i’m a bad boyfriend.”

“he already says that,” you teased.

“rude.”

you laughed, and he watched your lips, still worried, still careful.

instead of kissing you again, he wrapped his scarf more securely around you, tucking you into his chest. his chin rested on top of your head.

“we’re staying in tonight,” he decided. “movie. blankets. no cold air allowed near your dramatic lips.”

“they’re not dramatic.”

“they're high maintenance.”

you huffed, but melted into him anyway.

the wind howled against the windows but his arms stayed steady around you, warm and certain.

and this time he just held you close, like that was more than enough.