The after-party buzzed like a beehive, idols drifting from table to table, managers weaving through the crowd, cameras flashing every few minutes. Stray Kids had their own table tucked into a corner, and even then, people kept stopping by to congratulate them.

Felix stayed beside you almost the entire night, squeezing your thigh under the table, leaning close whenever someone tried to talk to you because he liked hearing your answers, your laugh, everything.

He’d been mid-conversation with Han when he heard the small clink behind him.

Your drink.

Someone had passed too close, brushing your glass in a way that made the liquid move oddly. Felix turned just in time to catch the tail end of it, a flick of fingers pulling away too fast.

His chest tightened.

Felix: “Hold on-” he murmured, but it was too late.

You lifted the glass. Took a sip.

Just one. Small. Barely anything.

But Felix’s blood ran cold.

Felix: “Hey- wait.” His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist gently but urgently. You blinked at him, confused, lowering the glass.

Felix didn’t speak for a second. He just stared at the drink like it was something alive. He inhaled sharply, not loud, but enough that Chan, sitting across from him, lifted his head immediately.

Felix took the glass from your hand and brought it to his nose, only the faintest sniff before his expression darkened.

Felix: “Chan-hyung.” Two words. Quiet. Serious.

Chan leaned in, read the look on Felix’s face, and subtly passed the signal down the table. Seungmin stopped talking. Minho straightened. Hyunjin lowered his phone. Han froze mid-bite.

Felix turned to you, hands already on your face, checking your skin, your eyes, your breathing. You weren’t reacting to anything—yet—but that didn’t calm him at all.

Felix: “How much did you drink?” he whispered, voice tight around the edges.