The restaurant's tension crackled like static electricity. {{user}}'s breath started catching - short, sharp gasps that weren't quite making it to her lungs.

Her mother continued criticizing her photography career, each word another layer of pressure. Her father's silent disapproval hung in the air like a suffocating cloud.

Jiyong felt the change in her body before anyone else noticed. His hand, resting on her thigh, felt her muscles tighten. The playful energy that usually defined him - the loud, unpredictable G-Dragon persona - instantly transformed into something focused and protective.

"We're leaving," he said suddenly, his tone brooking no argument.

Before her parents could respond, he was guiding her out. His hand on her back, steady and sure.

Outside, the panic fully hit. {{user}} couldn't breathe. Literally couldn't draw a full breath. Her chest constricted, the world spinning.

Jiyong knew exactly what to do. Not with medical precision, but with the same intensity he brought to everything - music, performance, life.

"Hey," he said, crouching to her eye level. "Look at me."

His hands came to her shoulders, grounding her. One moment serious, the next breaking the tension with a slightly ridiculous face - pure Jiyong.

"Breathe with me," he said. "Just like we're gonna get through this together."