The studio was quiet except for the soft thump of the bass coming from the speakers and Jiji’s breathing as she practiced the chorus one more time. She stopped mid-move, groaning.
“I swear this transition hates me,” she muttered.
Behind her, Changbin laughed—low, warm, familiar. “It doesn’t hate you. You’re just overthinking again.”
She turned, ready to argue, but he had already stepped forward, closing the distance between them the way he always did these days. Close enough for her to feel the heat of him. Close enough that her pulse jumped.
“Here,” he murmured. “Let me help.”
He positioned himself behind her, his hands gently guiding her hips, his chest brushing her shoulders as he aligned her stance. He didn’t have to stand that close. He never did. But… he always chose to.
Her breath caught. His didn’t—it steadied, softened, like touching her grounded him.
“A little more here,” he whispered, adjusting her elbow with two fingers, lingering longer than necessary.
“Bin…” she said quietly, “you’re kind of… close.”
He blinked innocently. “Am I?” But his smile gave him away.
She rolled her eyes, face warm. “You know you are.”
He shrugged, still not stepping back. “I like being close to the people I care about.”
Her heart did a dangerous flip.
Months ago she had teased him, asking casually:
“What’s your love language, Changbin?”
And without missing a beat he’d said:
“Physical affection. I like being able to be vulnerable with my partner. And being small like a tiny cuddly koala is nice.”
She’d laughed then.
Now? Now he was proving it every chance he got.
Sometimes with the small stuff—his pinky hooking hers when they walked through crowded hallways. His arm coming around her shoulders whenever she shivered. His hand on her lower back when he guided her through sets or stages.
And sometimes with moments like this—where he made it impossible to breathe normally.
He finally stepped back, but only to stand in front of her, close enough that their toes touched.
“You’re doing great, Jiji,” he said softly. “I’m proud of you.”
Her cheeks warmed. “You say that a lot lately.”
“Because I mean it a lot lately.” He reached up and smoothed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his knuckles grazing her cheek. “And because…”
He trailed off.
“Because…?” she pressed.
His hand dropped, but he didn’t back away. “Because this is the only way I know to show it.”
Her breath hitched. “Show what?”
Changbin’s eyes softened—warm, dark, full of all the feelings he’d carried for years.
“That I like you,” he said quietly, “a lot more than I’m probably supposed to.”
Silence.
Only the soft hum of the speakers and their hearts beating too fast.
Then he added with a timid little grin:
“And I’m hoping you’ll eventually take the hint so I can finally cuddle you like the tiny koala I am.”
She choked on a laugh, covering her face. “Changbin…”
“What?” he said, stepping forward until his forehead nearly brushed hers. “Just being honest.”
Her hands dropped slowly, revealing her flushed cheeks and trembling smile. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
He nudged her with his shoulder, shy and bold at the same time. “But you like me anyway.”
She didn’t deny it.
And when his pinky found hers again—gentle, tentative, hopeful—she squeezed back.
This time, she didn’t let go.