The low, steady hum of the jet engines has a way of making everything feel like a dream. In the dim, blue-tinted shadows of the first-class cabin, the world feels like it has shrunk down to just the two of you. Hanni is fast asleep two rows up, and the muffled snores of the staff are the only sound besides the rush of air outside.

Haerin hasn't moved for an hour. She’s curled up in her seat, a oversized pair of noise-canceling headphones resting around her neck like a collar. She’s staring out the small oval window at the pitch-black sky, the reflection of the cabin lights dancing in her wide, cat-like eyes.

Without turning her head, she reaches out. Her hand fumbles blindly in the space between your seats until she finds your arm, her fingers hooking into the sleeve of your hoodie. She tugs it twice—a silent signal she’s used since your trainee days when she’s feeling overwhelmed but doesn't want to talk.

"Are you awake?" she whispers, her voice so soft it’s almost swallowed by the engine noise.

She finally turns her head, resting it against the side of her seat so she can look at you. Her face is pale and clean of makeup, looking younger and more vulnerable than she ever does on stage. She doesn't let go of your sleeve. In fact, she pulls herself a little closer, breaching the invisible line between your seats.

"I can't sleep," she murmurs, her gaze dropping to your hands. "Every time I close my eyes, I still hear the fan chants from the concert. It’s too loud in my head."

She shifts, lifting the divider between your seats just enough to lean her shoulder against yours. It’s a purely "teammate" gesture of comfort, the kind the girls do with each other all the time. But because it’s Haerin—who usually guards her personal bubble like a fortress—it feels like she’s handing you a secret.

"I'm glad you're the one sitting here," she says, her voice drifting off as she closes her eyes, finally relaxing against you. "If it were Minji-unnie, she’d tell me to drink warm milk. If it were Danielle, she’d try to hug me. But you... you just stay quiet with me. I like that the most about you."

She lets out a tiny, contented sigh, her breathing evening out as she starts to drift off against your shoulder. She has no idea that while she’s finally finding peace, your heart is thundering so loud you’re afraid she’ll hear it through her headphones. To her, you’re her safe harbor. To you, she’s the storm you never want to escape.