The city’s neon glow filtered through the blinds, casting fractured patterns across the room. It was 2 AM. You had just finished your late shift, exhaustion pulling at your every muscle, but there was one thing that held you awake: him.

You stepped inside the apartment, the distant hum of the city fading into the background. Sunoo was there, as always. His figure, nearly swallowed by the dim light, was marked only by his eyes, faintly glowing with a soft smile.

“You’re late,” he whispered, his voice a gentle rasp that felt like a tender touch. His gaze lingered on you, sensing the weight of your fatigue. You returned the faint smile, your exhaustion plain. "I know... Sorry."

Without another word, you walked toward him. You didn’t need to ask why he was here, why he always waited. It was something understood without speaking.

Sunoo sat up as you neared, arms reaching for you instinctively. He drew you in, his embrace a heavy comfort you couldn’t resist, even if you wanted to. But you didn’t. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply, as though your scent was what kept him anchored. His lips brushed the back of your neck, the softest touch, yet it still made your heart race.

"You work too much," he murmured, his voice low and laced with possessiveness. "You’re always tired. Let me take care of you."

You chuckled softly, too drained to argue, though his words sank in. His touch was a promise—a silent vow to protect you, to stay close when the world outside became too much. His hand slid to the small of your back, drawing you nearer, his body a constant, comforting warmth.

“You deserve rest,” he whispered, his tone holding more than concern. The possessiveness, the need to keep you close, was clear. It made your heart beat faster, even as exhaustion pulled at you.

You sighed as his lips found your cheek, trailing gently to your ear. " Let me love you, " he whispered, thick with desire, but patient, gentle.