You hadn’t meant to fall asleep.

You were just tired — emotionally, physically, in that quiet aching way that builds up over time. You didn’t even say much when he came over. Just let him in, curled up on the couch, and leaned your head against his shoulder like it was the only place that made sense.

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t need to.

Jeongin just wrapped an arm around your back and held you there. Close. Safe.

And when your breath slowed and your body went still, he realized you’d fallen asleep on him. Right there, in his arms.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

He just smiled softly — the kind of smile he only wore when no one was looking — and let his hand drift through your hair, slow and rhythmic, like he was trying to soothe something deeper than skin.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, not even sure if you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

You twitched slightly in your sleep, a soft sound escaping your lips, and he melted a little more.

“I know things are hard right now,” he murmured, voice barely audible, like a lullaby. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

He let his thumb brush against your cheek, featherlight. His chest rose and fell with yours.

“You’re allowed to rest. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”