You stood at Namjoon’s door, hand hesitating for a second before you knocked. It was late, and you almost turned back, but the door swung open before you could.

Namjoon blinked, surprised to see you, but his expression softened quickly. “Hey,” he greeted, stepping aside to let you in without question. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You managed a small smile, slipping off your shoes and following him inside. The living room was warm, soft lighting spilling across the bookshelves and the gray couch. Namjoon watched you closely, noticing the way your shoulders were a bit tense, your eyes tired.

“Something happened?” he asked gently, tilting his head to catch your eyes. “You look… off.”

You shook your head, but the way you bit your lip and hesitated didn’t convince him. He sighed softly, motioning for you to sit down.

“Come on,” he murmured, his tone gentle but firm. “Talk to me.”

Namjoon settled beside you, quiet and patient. His knee bumped yours, a silent reminder that he was there, waiting for whenever you were ready to speak.