It was 12:47 a.m., and the world had that quiet, suspended feeling—like everything outside had slowed down just enough to make space for softer things.

Jin’s room was dim, lit only by a warm lamp off to the side that softened the edges of everything. He sat comfortably on his bed, one knee slightly raised, phone resting against it. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hand through it one too many times, and his hoodie sleeves were pushed up casually.

On his screen—{{user}}.

Wrapped in her blanket, only her face visible, cheeks slightly flushed from the warmth. Her camera angle was a little off, tilted just enough to make it feel unpolished. Real.

“…and then she just looked at me like I was the problem,” {{user}} said, her voice slower now, sleep creeping in between her words. “When I literally did nothing.”

Jin gasped softly—dramatic, but gentle. “Nothing?” he repeated, eyes widening just a little. “You? Never. That’s impossible.”

She gave him a small, tired look.

“You’re so fake.”

He broke into a quiet laugh, the kind that came easily from him—light, unforced. “I’m defending you,” he said, smiling. “This is support.”

“Mm,” she hummed, unconvinced, but the corner of her lips lifted anyway.

There was a pause. Not empty—just… calm.

Jin rested his cheek lightly against his hand, watching her with that soft attentiveness that never felt like too much. Like he wasn’t just hearing her—he was taking her in.

“You look really pretty,” he said after a moment.

No teasing. No buildup. Just simple.

{{user}} blinked, caught off guard.

“…Jin.”

“What?” he tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m just saying what I see.”