The lease had been a mistake. At least, that’s what Seung Hyun told himself every time he came home and found you curled up on his couch, following him into the kitchen, or sitting way too close when there was an entire empty side of the sofa.

You weren’t a bad roommate. You cleaned up after yourself, you cooked sometimes, and you never touched his precious vinyl records. But you clung—always clung. If he went out for groceries, you tagged along. If he retreated to his room, you’d knock five minutes later with some excuse, just to make sure he was still there.

At first, he thought it was some kind of infatuation. But he knew better. He knew your past, the bruises of it still lingering in how your voice trembled when storms hit, or how you froze when the front door slammed too hard. You didn’t cling because you wanted him. You clung because being near him made you feel safe.

And still, it grated on him.

“Yah,” he muttered one night when you trailed after him from the living room to the kitchen, your socks brushing against the floor. “Do you really have to follow me everywhere? I can’t even get water in peace.”

You blinked up at him, holding your arms against your chest. “If I don’t, you’ll leave without telling me.”

His jaw tightened, and he turned to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. He hated how your words dug in, how they reminded him of the nights you confessed you used to wake up in an empty house, wondering if anyone would come back.

“You’re not a kid anymore,” he said, softer than he meant to. “I’m not your babysitter.”

You looked down at your feet. “I know. I just… I feel safer when you’re around.”

The silence stretched, broken only by the faint hum of the fridge. Seung Hyun sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to push you away—God, you were suffocating sometimes—but at the same time, he couldn’t ignore the way your fingers shook when you clutched the hem of your sleeve.

“Just…” he muttered finally, brushing past you toward the hallway. “Don’t expect me to hold your hand every time you get scared.”

But later, when he found you asleep on the couch with the TV still on, your body curled in a tight ball, he covered you with a blanket anyway.

And though he rolled his eyes when you clung tighter the next morning, part of him couldn’t deny it: a piece of him was starting to get used to having you there.