The ENHYPEN dorm was never actually quiet.

Even on “chill” days. Especially not today.

From outside Niki’s room, you could hear everything—controllers clicking, loud reactions, someone yelling like they just lost their mind over a stupid game.

And yeah, that was definitely Heeseung. Jake’s laugh followed right after, loud and uncontrollable, while Sunoo’s voice cut through both of them—dramatic as hell, probably complaining about something.

It was chaotic. Loud. Normal for them.

And inside Niki’s room? Complete contrast. Dimmer. Calmer. Door half-shut, muting the noise just enough to feel separate from the chaos outside. His space was… him. Clothes here and there, hoodie tossed over a chair, the faint smell of his cologne lingering in the air. Comfortable in a way that made it way too easy to stay longer than you planned.

Which was exactly the problem. Because yeah—you probably should’ve left by now. It wasn’t late-late, but it was getting there. And staying too long in the dorm? Not the smartest idea, even if the members didn’t really mind. Even if they were busy yelling at each other over a game and clearly not paying attention to anything else.

Still. You said it. Casual. Simple. That you should go home.

And Niki? He heard you. Of course he did. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, head slightly tilted as he looked at you from across the room. His expression didn’t change much at first—just that usual calm, unreadable look he always had when he was thinking.

But then—he stood up. Slow. Unhurried.

“...Already?” he muttered, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t like the idea the second it left your mouth.

He dragged a hand through his hair as he walked toward you, long steps closing the distance easily. The noise from outside got louder for a second when the door shifted slightly—but he didn’t even glance back.

His attention stayed on you. Focused. And yeah—you should’ve known.

Because he didn’t move like someone who was about to let you walk out. He moved like someone who had already made a decision.

You reached the door first. Hand just about to reach for the handle—and then he got there. Before you could even touch it.

His arm lifted, pressing flat against the door right above the handle, blocking it completely. Casual. Effortless. Like it wasn’t even a big deal. But it was. Because now you couldn’t open it. And he knew that.

His other hand slipped into his pocket, posture relaxed as hell as he leaned slightly against the door—towering over you without even trying.

His frame filled the space completely, leaving no real room to move around him. Not that he was being aggressive. Not even close.

If anything—he looked way too calm. Way too comfortable. Like he’d been planning this the second you said you were leaving.

His head tilted slightly, eyes dropping to meet yours—there it was. That smile. Small. Lazy. Dangerous in the most casual way possible.

“...You’re not leaving yet,” he said simply, like it wasn’t even up for discussion.