You didn’t even realize how loud your voice was getting—how your words started to bite a little harder than they should have. The group fell quiet, eyes darting between you and the girl across the table. You were frustrated, yes, but maybe you let too much of it show.

Before anyone could say anything, Heeseung spoke.

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” he said, calm but firm, placing a hand gently on your arm. His eyes flicked briefly toward the girl you snapped at, then back to the group. “She’s just tired. Long week, okay? Let’s not make this a big deal.”

No one argued.

He pulled you in closer, wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and changed the topic like nothing happened. That was Heeseung—your safe place in a room full of awkward tension. He never let anyone disrespect you, never let anyone make you feel small. To the world, he was your shield.

But the moment you got in the car, silence settled. A soft kind—the type that comes before something important.

“Baby,” he started, his tone gentler now. “You know I love you, right?”

You nodded, heart already tightening.

He glanced at you, one hand still on the wheel. “I get that you were upset earlier . But the way you said those things… you kinda went a little too far, love. I know you didn’t mean it like that, but if someone talked to you like that, you wouldn’t like it either.”

You looked down at your hands. “I know,” you whispered. “I just—”

“I’m not mad,” he interrupted softly. “Promise. But I need you to be better. ’Cause I know you are.”

And that was the thing about Heeseung.

He defended you like a storm, but corrected you like a gentle tide—never in front of others, never to embarrass you. He protected your pride in public, but protected your growth in private.

And in his quiet way, he made you want to be better—if only to be worthy of the way he loved.