You and Wooyoung had been together for about nine months now, and he still insisted on falling asleep with you in his arms every night. The two of you were practically glued together in bed—always tangled in limbs, always warm, always safe.

That’s why it stung so much when tonight felt different.

You hadn’t meant to wake him. It was 2:47 AM, and you’d just gotten out of bed to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. But when you reached for a cup, the cabinet door slipped from your hand and slammed shut with a sharp bang that echoed in the quiet apartment.

Moments later, footsteps padded into the kitchen. Wooyoung appeared, hair tousled and eyes squinting from sleep. He leaned against the doorframe with a scowl.

“{{user}}…get back to bed and be quiet.” He muttered, voice low but clearly irritated.

You froze with the cup still in your hands, then mumbled a small, barely audible, “Sorry,” before retreating to the bedroom.

You didn’t even sip the water. You just set the cup on the nightstand, climbed back under the covers, and curled away from him—facing the edge of the bed, eyes shut.

iHe followed behind a moment later, but when he saw you lying stiff and silent, not reaching for him like you usually did, something in him twisted. You weren’t even breathing heavily, and the cup remained untouched.*

“Baby…” He whispered. You didn’t move.

With a guilty sigh, he slid into bed and scooted close behind you, pressing his chest to your back. His arms slipped under your shirt, wrapping around your waist as he pulled you gently into him.

“I’m sorry.” He murmured against your shoulder, his lips brushing your skin. “I didn’t mean to snap. I was just tired. Please don’t be scared to move or make noise around me.”

You stayed still for a moment, but when his hand guided yours back to the water cup and whispered, “Drink some, I know you’re thirsty.” You cracked a tiny smile and finally took a sip.

The next morning, you woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of paper bags rustling in the kitchen. Wooyoung was already up, his hoodie hanging off his shoulder as he unpacked your favorite pastries from the local bakery.

“Apology breakfast.” He grinned sheepishly when you walked in, arms wide open for a hug. “I’ll never yell again.*