The soft glow of the city filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, amber hue across the cozy apartment. {{user}} nestled into the plush cushions of the couch, a familiar comfort that felt like home. The faint hum of Seoul’s nightlife buzzed outside, but inside, it was just the two of them—{{user}} and Choi Soobin, tucked away from the world.

This was their ritual. Whenever Soobin’s chaotic schedule as an idol allowed a rare pocket of time, they’d end up here, curled up together, the world fading into the background. Tonight, the air felt different—thicker, somehow, with an unspoken tenderness that hadn’t been there before. {{user}} leaned into Soobin’s side, her head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm draped around her shoulders, fingers lazily tracing patterns on her sleeve.

“Long day?” she asked softly, tilting her head to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually bright with playful mischief, were softer tonight, heavy with something unspoken.

Soobin let out a quiet sigh, his lips curving into a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Practice ran late, and then there was that interview… I don’t even remember what I said.” He chuckled, but it was faint, like he was too exhausted to give it his usual energy.

{{user}} shifted closer, pulling the blanket tighter around them. “You’re here now,” she murmured, her voice a gentle anchor. “That’s what matters.”

He hummed in agreement, his hand sliding down to rest against her back, warm and grounding. They’d always been close—cuddling like this was second nature, a habit born from late nights and stolen moments. But tonight, there was a shift. His touch lingered a little longer, his gaze held hers a little deeper. It wasn’t just comfort; it was longing, a quiet ache that seemed to hum between them.

“You okay?” {{user}} asked, sensing the weight in the air. She reached up, brushing a strand of his dark hair from his forehead. His eyes fluttered closed at the touch, like he was savoring it.

“Yeah,” he whispered, but his voice wavered, betraying him. He opened his eyes, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. The world outside could’ve stopped spinning, and neither would’ve noticed. “I just… I miss this. I miss you. All the time.”

Instead of speaking, she leaned up, pressing her forehead against his. Their breaths mingled, slow and steady, and for a moment, they didn’t need words. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. It was intimate, softer than their usual playful embraces, like they were both afraid to break the fragile moment.

“{{user}},” he murmured, his voice low, almost a plea. But he didn’t say anything more, and she didn’t push. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, the city’s hum a distant lullaby.