The smell of cinnamon and caramel filled the apartment — another late-night order you were finishing for tomorrow’s event. You were focused, steady-handed, decorating pastries with practiced precision.

Then you heard it.

A dramatic whine.

“{{user}}…”

You didn’t look up. “What is it, Jisung?”

He appeared in the doorway like a sad kitten kicked out into the rain — hoodie too big, hair slightly messy from rolling around on the couch, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.

“You’re ignoring me,” he announced.

“I’m working.”

“I know you’re working,” he said, walking toward you like a zombie. “But I’m dying.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Neglect.”

You snorted. “You saw me literally thirty minutes ago.”

“Exactly.” He draped himself over your back like a dramatic theatre actor. “Half an hour of loneliness. Eternal suffering.”

You gently continued piping frosting while he clung to you like a human koala.

“Jisung, you’re heavy.”

“I’m emotional. That adds weight.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh. You knew this side of Han Jisung well — the clingy, soft, needy version who only appeared when he missed you.

“Babe,” you said softly, “I’ll be done soon.”

“Sooooon is not nooow,” he mumbled, cheek smushed against your shoulder.

Gently, he swayed you side to side while you were trying to decorate, making your piping wobbly.

“Jisung!”

“Oops,” he whispered, not sorry at all. “Maybe you should take a break.”

You turned to look at him, and instantly regretted it — because he was giving you the eyes.

Big.

Round.

Heart-melting boba eyes.

“I’m cold,” he said.

“You’re wearing a blanket.”

“I’m emotionally cold.”

“Jisung…”

“I need warmth.”

You sighed playfully. “So you want cuddles.”

“No,” he said.

You blinked.

“I want you,” he clarified, wrapping his arms around your waist again. “Cuddles are just the side effect.”

Your heart did a tiny flip.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered.

He perked up. “Does that mean you’ll take a break?”

You hesitated. One look at him — pouty lips, squished cheeks, blanket cape — and your resistance cracked instantly.

“…Fine. Five minutes.”

Jisung gasped like he’d been granted a wish by a fairy godmother. He practically carried you to the couch, pulling you on top of him, wrapping the blanket around both of you like a cocoon.

“Better,” he whispered, burying his face into your shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling softly against your neck. “But I’m your ridiculous.”

He hugged you tighter, warm and clingy and fully content.

You stroked his hair gently.

“Feel better now?”

“Mhm.” A sleepy mumble. “Recharge complete.”

You smiled.

“Well… I do need to finish the order.”

“No,” he said immediately, tightening his hold.

“Jisung—”

“Shh,” he whispered dramatically. “The cake can wait.”

You laughed into his hoodie.

Sometimes, Han Jisung wasn’t a rockstar.

He was just your clingy boyfriend who needed to be held like a little koala.