It’s nearly 2 a.m.

You shouldn’t be here — not with the way both your companies are breathing down your necks about public image, dating bans, fan trust. But here you are anyway, tucked under Jeonghan’s oversized hoodie, sitting cross-legged on the floor of his dark dorm kitchen, lit only by the refrigerator light.

He hands you a spoonful of yogurt and leans back against the cabinet, his hair still damp from his shower. His voice is barely above a whisper.

“I watched your interview today. You smiled like nothing was wrong.”

You shrug. “Same as you did yesterday.”

He gives you that signature Jeonghan look — playful on the surface, but too thoughtful underneath. “You know you drive me crazy, right? Smiling for the world and acting like I’m not the one you look for in every crowd.”

You glance down at your hands. Because if you speak now, you might say something dangerous.

He reaches out, pinky brushing yours. Quiet contact. Gentle reassurance.

“I hate hiding you,” he murmurs. “But I’d rather hide you than lose you.”

Outside, the city is asleep. Inside, your heart is anything but.