The event hall was loud in that very specific way only fandom energy could be. Not chaotic, but charged, like the air itself had caught the beat of the backing track looping quietly from the speakers.

Abby sat at the signing table, leaning on one elbow, silver marker cap tucked between his fingers. To his right, {{user}} was mid-laugh, cheeks still flushed from a fan’s compliment, trying to doodle a tiny heart over her name without smudging the page.

Their arms brushed again.

Neither of them moved away.

They never did anymore.

It had been nearly a year since she’d joined Huntrix, and somehow, despite debut schedules, brand deals, Korean crash courses, and all the chaos that came with being a foreign idol, she’d become the one person Abby felt… calm around. Natural with.

Touchy, even. Leaning on each other backstage. Sharing snacks mid-rehearsal. Falling asleep on each other’s shoulders during plane rides. Nothing serious. Just easy. Just… them.

And now they sat side-by-side at the shared fan sign table: Saja Boys on the left, Huntrix on the right, all eight members flanked by a long line of fans and stacks of glossy promo posters. Abby had already signed five shirts, a lightstick case, someone’s phone case, and at least three abs on paper. He didn’t question it anymore.

The marker squeaked slightly as he finished his name across a poster with dramatic flair. “And... boom,” he said under his breath, glancing toward {{user}} with a proud smirk. “Another one blessed by the holy six-pack.”

She snorted, elbowing him. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’m adored,” he corrected.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull her hand away when his knuckles brushed hers under the table.

Then… came the next fan.

A soft-spoken girl in oversized Saja Pride merch approached, hands trembling a little as she held out a photo for them to sign.

But instead of placing it in front of Abby… or {{user}}…

She slid it carefully onto the table, right between them.

Abby blinked. Leaned in.

It was a photo montage. Professionally printed. Edited. Framed in pastel.

Four carefully chosen moments: Him tucking a blanket over {{user}} during the Huntrix V-Live. Her laughing while piggybacking on his back after that midnight shoot. A blurry rehearsal mirror selfie — his arm wrapped around her waist. And a very not-blurry, very zoomed-in shot from two weeks ago: Abby looking at her like she’d hung the damn moon.

Abby stared. So did {{user}}.

The fan beamed. “Can you both sign it? Please? It’s for my collection. I really, really love your chemistry... SajaTrix forever!”

Abby’s brain buffered.

He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Glanced sideways.

{{user}} was trying not to laugh or blush or both.

A strange flutter started in Abby’s chest. A little too fast. A little too... aware.

“I, uh…” he coughed once.

The fan giggled. The camera flashes clicked.

Abby picked up his marker again, twirling it once between his fingers. Then, without a word, he leaned over, signed the corner with the piggyback photo, and passed the photo to {{user}}, not quite looking at her.

“I mean…” he said under his breath, lips curved in the faintest smile. “We do make a good photo.”