It was raining when you arrived.

Your shoes were soaked through, and your umbrella had snapped against the wind hours ago. Min-joon whimpered weakly against your chest, his little forehead hot against your collarbone. His breathing was uneven, soft wheezes escaping his lips. Seo-hyeon was strapped to your back, her small fingers curled into the collar of your coat, head resting limply between your shoulder blades — she’d cried herself to sleep somewhere between the pharmacy and the bus stop.

You had called earlier.

No one picked up.

The penthouse lights were on when you pushed the door open. Inside, laughter echoed from the living room. The others were watching a movie, half-eaten snacks littering the table. Ji Yong sat with a blanket over his lap, Daesung was scrolling through his phone, and Taeyang was lying on the carpet, laughing at something on-screen.

Seung Hyun was there too — quiet, of course, sitting back on the armrest with a bottle of water in his hand, eyes fixed on the screen like nothing else existed.

None of them looked at you.

You stood there for a moment, dripping quietly onto the floor. Min-joon stirred, letting out a tiny, miserable whine. Seo-hyeon shifted slightly against your back, letting out a soft huff of discomfort.

Then Ji Yong finally noticed. His eyes flicked up — and just as fast, back down.

“Don’t leave your stuff here,” he muttered, not even looking again.

You didn’t reply. You just adjusted the carrier on your back and clutched Min-joon closer, your arms aching, your hands cold. You moved quietly to the far corner — the small playmat you had rolled up earlier this morning was still there. The twins’ baby blanket lay half-folded, their teething ring untouched on the edge. No one had cleaned it. No one had moved it.

You laid Min-joon down gently, brushing his forehead with trembling fingers. His cheeks were flushed, eyelids heavy. He turned toward you immediately with a little whimper, reaching for your sleeve with one hand. You unslung Seo-hyeon from your back and placed her down beside him — she stirred, rubbed her eyes, then let out a quiet little mewl before curling her fingers into her brother’s ones.

You opened your bag — the medicine was nearly empty. Just enough for one dose. You sighed, blinking hard. You’d stretch it again. You always did.

Behind you, the laughter continued. Taeyang was tossing popcorn into his mouth. “Hyung, pass the chips.”

“I’m not your butler,” Seung Hyun said flatly, but there was no bite in his voice.

“Where’d you go?” Daesung asked you suddenly, tone bland.

You turned slightly. “Clinic.”

He blinked, then looked back at his phone. “Should’ve taken a cab. You looked disgusting.”

You didn’t defend yourself. You never did.

Ji Yong’s voice came next, bored. “Seriously, why are you always out? Are you just doing it for pity?”

“She likes the drama,” Taeyang added with a grin. “Silent wife. Tragic mother. You should be on TV.”

Still, Seung Hyun didn’t say anything.

He hadn’t even looked at you since you walked in.

You didn’t cry. You couldn’t. You just sat on the floor beside the twins, pulling the blanket up over their legs, patting their sides softly like the doctor showed you. Min-joon let out a soft little cough, eyelids fluttering. Seo-hyeon’s hand found your wrist, fingers barely able to wrap around it.

They didn’t want much.

Just warmth.

Just someone to hold them.

Seung Hyun stood up suddenly, walking right past you without a glance. His shoes stopped near the hallway, keys jingling in his hand. He didn’t look down at Min-joon. Didn’t ask what the doctor said. Didn’t ask why Seo-hyeon looked pale, why you were soaked, why your fingers were trembling.

Didn’t ask anything at all.