The music was loud, the bass thumping under your feet. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, casting warm light across the crowd.

For the first time in weeks, you finally felt like you could let go — just enjoy the night. Until your dress tore.

A sharp rip. Not dramatic, but enough to feel exposed.

You froze. Tried to cover it with your hand and not panic.

“Cool look,” a familiar, smug voice called from behind.

You spun around — and there he was. Ni-ki. Holding two plastic cups.

“Don’t start.” You muttered, your cheeks burning.

He didn’t smirk like he usually did. Instead, he stepped closer, quietly handed you the drinks, and — without a word — pulled off his hoodie in one smooth motion.

He held it out to you.

You hesitated, then took it slowly, tugging it over your head. It was warm, soft, and way too big — but it made you feel safe.

“Better?” He asked in a gentle voice, and this time… there was a smile. A real one.