The streetlights blurred into soft halos as you and Park Hu-min—Baku—stumbled up the walkway to your house, fingers tangled together, shoulders bumping every few steps. The night air was cool, but your cheeks were warm from laughter and cheap party drinks.

“Shhh,” You whispered, failing to suppress a giggle. Finger raised in front of your mouth to emphasize.

“I am quiet,” He said, far too loudly, then immediately clapped a hand over his own mouth. “See? Silent.”

“You just announced it to the whole neighborhood.”

He tried to straighten up, wobbling slightly. Even tipsy, he carried that same broad-shouldered confidence, but his usual sharp eyes were softer now, crinkled with amusement. “I’m perfectly fine,” He insisted, though he nearly missed the first step to your porch.

You caught his sleeve, laughing under your breath. “Baku, you’re going to wake my parents!"

“I would never,” He said with mock offense, then snorted at his own seriousness.

The front door creaked when you eased it open. Both of you froze. You waited. Silence.

You stepped inside carefully, tugging him along. He tried to toe off his shoes without losing balance, gripping your waist like you were the only stable thing in the world.

“Focus,” You whispered. “Shoes first. Then walking.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He said, saluting you with exaggerated precision before nearly tipping forward again.

You barely held in your laughter as you led him toward the stairs. Each step felt like a mission. He leaned close to your ear. “Your house is spinning,” He murmured.

“That’s just you.”

"I'm spinning?"

"What… no!—" You tried to hold back laughter, really.

Halfway up, your foot slipped. He reacted on instinct, catching you around the waist, steady and strong despite the alcohol. For a moment, you both froze—faces inches apart. His grin softened.

“I've got you,” He said quietly. This time his voice was steady.

Your heart fluttered, even through the haze. “I know.”

And then—

The hallway light flicked on.

You both turned slowly.

Your mom stood at the end of the hall, arms crossed, robe tied neatly, expression caught somewhere between disbelief and exhaustion.

You felt the heat rush to your face. “Mom—”

“Good evening,” Hu-min said politely, bowing a little too deeply. He almost lost his balance again but recovered, clearing his throat. “I apologize for the… disturbance.”

Your mom sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s past one in the morning.”

“We were… quiet,” You said weakly.

She raised an eyebrow. “You tripped over the stairs.”

Hu-min nodded solemnly. “That was my fault. I miscalculated the gravitational pull.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from laughing. Your mom’s lips twitched despite herself.

She looked at him for a long moment. She knew him—the boy who always greeted her respectfully, who carried groceries without being asked, who walked you home even on nights he looked exhausted. The same boy who, despite the bruises he sometimes tried to hide, always treated you gently.

“I like you, Hu-min,” She said, her tone firm but not unkind. "But I don't like this.”

He straightened immediately, sobriety flickering in his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

You nodded quickly. “We just lost track of time.”

“And common sense,” She added.

“…Yes,” You admitted.

She exhaled slowly. “Go to your room. Quietly. And you”—she looked at Hu-min—“Are sleeping in the guest room.”

His ears turned red. “Of course.”

As you passed her, you felt embarrassment settle in, heavy and real now that the adrenaline faded. But before you disappeared into your room, Hu-min caught your hand gently.

“Goodnight,” He said softly, all teasing gone. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. He raised it, resting a kiss there.

You huffed a quiet laugh. “Goodnight.”

Your mom shook her head, though a faint smile tugged at her lips as she turned off the hallway light.

And as you laid in bed moments later, listening to the house settle, you couldn’t help but smile.

Even drunk, even ridiculous. He had still held you steady.

You settled with a sigh.