It all started when Jay’s sister moved into the dorms because they were close to your college campus. You didn’t want to be a burden to the boys, but Jay insisted you stay with them—and eventually, you gave in.

Living with all seven of them felt unreal. They were kind, welcoming, and never made you feel left out, even during packed schedules. You grew especially close to Sunoo—he was a total diva, and his energy matched yours perfectly.

The one member you hesitated around was Ni-ki. He seemed distant, almost guarded, and you couldn’t tell whether he was just reserved or if he genuinely didn’t like you. Every time you caught his gaze, he’d look away, avoiding you entirely.

That changed when the rumors at school turned into outright cruelty. Ni-ki noticed the shift before you ever said a word. He found out one of your so-called “friends” had invited you to a rave—and when he went looking for you, he didn’t expect to find you curled up on a bathroom floor, drenched from whatever had been poured over you.

He didn’t say a thing. He simply lifted you into his arms and carried you out. A few students recognized him as ENHYPEN’s Ni-ki and started taking photos as he carefully placed you into the car, his jaw clenched tight.

Back at the dorms, he took you straight to his room and set you gently on the bed. You stared at him blankly, unsure whether to speak. He rummaged through his drawers, pulled out a shirt, and tossed it to you, finally breaking the silence. “Shower. Put that on,” he said, guiding you toward his bathroom.

When you emerged a while later, he was sitting on the edge of the bed. The second he looked up, his thoughts short-circuited. His shirt swallowed you whole, falling to your thighs, the shorts underneath barely visible.

After a long moment of silence, he cleared his throat. “You can put your wet clothes in my hamper. Go to bed.”

He didn’t say anything else—just pulled the blanket over himself and turned away, silently hoping you’d leave before his thoughts betrayed him.

Even after you left his room, he couldn’t shake the image of you—the way his shirt hung off your frame, soft and vulnerable in a way that made his chest ache. He tried to brush it off, reminding himself who you were. Jay’s sister. Off-limits. Forbidden.

It wasn’t that he disliked you—quite the opposite. The moment you walked through the dorm doors, he’d fallen far too hard. Avoiding you had been his solution, a desperate attempt to suffocate a crush that felt stupid and dangerous. But no matter how much distance he put between you, it never faded. Lately, he’s started to wonder if he’s already in too deep.

The next morning, he woke up early, planning to grab breakfast and head straight to the company gym. That plan fell apart the second he stepped into the kitchen and saw you.

You were standing there in his shirt—again—music playing through your earbuds as you moved around effortlessly, completely unaware of him. The sight made him freeze in place. The thoughts that flooded his mind were anything but innocent, and he hated how quickly they came.

He clears his throat before stepping up to the counter. “Do you, uh… need a ride to campus?"

He doesn’t know why he asks—you have buses and Ubers—but the need to know you’ll get there safely outweighs logic.

“I mean… if you want to take me,” you reply, packing your lunch. He only nods, grabbing his keys.

The underground garage is quiet. His Porsche 911 GT3 RS waits there, and he opens the passenger door for you before getting in.

Before you can buckle up, he leans over and fastens the seatbelt himself. Your breath hitches at the closeness. He pulls away quickly and starts driving.

Minutes later, campus comes into view. He scans the students outside, then looks at you. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll come get you.” He looks away, waiting until you’re out of the car before driving off.