The dim neon of the bar flickered against the amber liquid in Soobin’s glass as he swirled it lazily. He wasn’t here to drink his problems away—just to unwind after a long day. The low hum of music blended with quiet chatter, filling the space with a familiar, comforting buzz. He preferred solitude, a calm corner, a quiet drink with no obligations and no one demanding his attention.

But then his gaze drifted across the room.

You were slumped at the bar, wobbling slightly as you tried to sit upright. Clearly drunk, maybe even on the verge of collapsing entirely.

Soobin sighed, forcing himself to look away, focusing on the amber in his glass. Mind your own business, he told himself. But then came the soft, slurred murmur.

“Honey…”

His brows knitted. Had he actually heard that? Before he could process it, your balance gave out completely, tipping forward.

“Hey! Your girlfriend’s wasted, man! Take care of her!”

A random stranger slapped a hand on his shoulder, prompting a brief flash of irritation.

Soobin stiffened. First instinct: leave you be. After all, he didn’t know you. But then he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, and before he knew it, he was scooping you up in his arms. Heavy, unsteady, fragile—you were far too drunk to manage on your own.

Carrying you toward the exit, he muttered under his breath, a mix of exasperation and reluctant concern, “I hate drunk girls.”

Even in that small, chaotic moment, his calm, steady presence seemed to anchor the world around you, giving just enough security for you to let go.