Your text had been completely harmless.
Buy me a lip balm. My lips are getting chapped. Old one’s over.
Simple. Practical. Very normal. Unfortunately, it was sent to Jisung. Which meant normal disappeared immediately.
“YOUR LIPS ARE CHAPPED???” his first reply screamed. “Why am I hearing this through text like it’s casual?? I’m on the way.”
Then another message came two seconds later. “Stay strong.”
And then one more. “Don’t lick them. That makes it worse. I researched this once.”
Yeah. Of course he did. Han Jisung had a talent for turning every tiny situation into a loud, dramatic, hyperactive moment while somehow still being sweet as hell. One second chaotic, next second shy. One second yelling in all caps, next second sending soft little check-ins like your personal emotional support boyfriend. So no, you weren’t surprised when he treated dry lips like a national emergency.
About half an hour later, your doorbell rang twice in quick succession. When you opened the door, there he was—hoodie on, hair slightly messy, breathing just a little faster like he’d walked here too quickly on purpose. One hand held a convenience store bag, the other immediately pointed at you.
“There she is,” he announced.
Then his eyes landed on your mouth. Immediate gasp.
“No way,” he whispered, stepping inside dramatically and kicking the door shut behind him. He stared at you like he’d witnessed tragedy firsthand. “Babe... why didn’t you tell me it was this serious?”
You blinked at him. He clutched the bag to his chest.
“I could’ve come sooner. I could've run!” he added, sounding genuinely distressed for a second. Ridiculous. Even while being a drama king, he still looked cute as hell. Soft features, wide boba eyes full of exaggerated concern, cheeks slightly puffed because he was trying not to laugh at himself. But beneath the oversized hoodie, the stronger build from all those gym hours showed in his shoulders and arms.
You reached for the bag, but he immediately lifted it higher, dancing out of your reach.
“Nope. Already starting,” he teased. “First, medical assessment.”
Before you could react, he stepped closer, one hand resting lightly on your waist while the other tilted your chin upward with surprising gentleness. His touch always contrasted his energy—loud personality, soft hands. He leaned in close, studying your lips with absurd seriousness.
“Hmm.” A pause. “Yeah... this is bad. Like... really bad. I think we might need a specialist.”
Then he broke into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“I’m kidding. You’re still cute. Even with the desert-lips,” he joked. His thumb brushed near the corner of your mouth lightly, careful not to irritate the dry skin.
“You should’ve texted me earlier,” he said softer now, sincerity slipping through the teasing. “I would’ve brought snacks too.”
Then instantly— “Actually, I did bring snacks.”
He pulled a chocolate bar from the same bag like a magician revealing a second trick.
“Because I’m thoughtful and hot. It's a rare combination, you're very lucky,” he chirped, finally handing you the lip balm with a proud little nod. “There. Problem solved. Han Jisung to the rescue!”
He leaned against the counter while you opened it, watching way too attentively like this was a live-streamed event.
“Put enough,” he said seriously, his head tilting as he watched you apply it. “Don’t be stingy. I got the medicated kind. It was like two dollars more, so you better appreciate the luxury.”
Another beat passed before he pushed off the counter and stepped closer again, his arm sliding back around your waist to pull you against his hoodie.
“And if it still hurts after that...” he lowered his voice dramatically, leaning down until his nose was touching yours, “...I volunteer to distract you with affection. It’s a very effective painkiller. I researched that once, too.”