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Chapter Text

Wonwoo doesn’t remember the day his parents left. All he remembered was the silence that lingered in the house. They were gone - no goodbye, no letter. They just vanished. 

He was merely five.

He was five when his parents vanished.

He was five when he was left alone to fend for himself. 

His uncle and aunt took him in, but not out of love. To them, Wonwoo was just another mouth to feed, another “burden” to bear, alongside their 3 children. From the moment he stepped into their cramped house, he became the family’s shadow - the invisible boy who swept floors and wiped tears that weren’t his. 

His uncle was a towering figure - strict, cold and ruled the house with loud footsteps and louder fists. His face rarely softened, and his voice held only barked orders and scathing reprimands. 

“Stop crying, irritating.” 

“Stop standing like an idiot”

“Can’t you do anything right?”

“Useless, just like your parents.” 

From the very first night, Wonwoo learnt that silence is key. It was way safer as being quiet drew less attention. 

He tried. Wonwoo tried with all his might to be at his very best. 

He folded clothes the way he was shown. 

He cleaned dishes with his tiny, trembling hands. 

But trying is never enough. 

A plate chipped? Wonwoo was slapped. 

Too slow to open the door? Whacked by the belt on his legs . 

Walked too loudly? Got hit on the back of his head. 

But Wonwoo continued trying, as it was his only way to survive. 

By the time he was seven, Wonwoo was already taking care of the house. He made breakfast before school, scrubbed floors when he got home, and even washed everybody’s laundry. 

His aunt? 

She was quiet. Always quiet. 

She watched it all unfold. Every slap. Every scolding. Every time Wonwoo was shoved, dragged by the arm, shouting at until his ears rang, she’d be there - beside the uncle, eyes flicking over for a brief second, then turning away like nothing happened. 

Wonwoo learnt early on that she wasn’t going to help him at all. She, too, had lived in fear. Of the man she was married to. So she said nothing, did nothing. 

And by doing so, Wonwoo grew up believing that he was truly alone. 

His cousins? 

They were nothing better. Two boys and one girl, all three were older than Wonwoo, but none acted like a mature older cousin. From the beginning, they treated Wonwoo like something less than human - a maid, a scapegoat, a punching bag when no one was looking. 

One would spill juice and pin the blame on Wonwoo. 

Another would break the cup and complain that it was Wonwoo who caused him to break it. 

They treated him as if he were trash. 

It was a rainy evening and Wonwoo had just finished throwing the rubbish at the collection point. The boy who just turned nine was aching everywhere - his fingers filled with blisters and sores, his arms filled with bruises, his head pounding. 

He was about to enter the home when the door slammed shut. 

*Beep* *Click* 

The cousins’ snickering and laughter echoed through the wooden door. 

“Oops,” one said in a mocking tone. “Looks like someone forgot the password.” 

“Password…? What password?” Wonwoo’s voice cracked. “Please… P..please just open the door.” 

Another voice came through, “No dinner for stray dogs.” 

He knocked. Then pounded. Then begged. 

But there was no answer. 

He didn’t dare to knock harder than he could, as the uncle had just fallen asleep. 

The hallway light turned off moments later, plunging the corridor into a dim grey silence. It was just Wonwoo and the cold tiles under his bare feet. He tried curling up by the door and hugging his knees to his chest. The air bit through his thin shirt. His stomach growled from not having his dinner but he didn’t have the energy to cry anymore. 

By midnight, his teeth chattered. He wrapped himself tighter, trying to will himself to sleep. His eyes burned with fatigue. His body ached. 

But no one came. 

No one ever came. 

Morning came and the sun barely peeked over the buildings when the door opened with a loud thud. 

“You little rascal!” Uncle growled. Standing tall along the doorway, casting a long shadow over Wonwoo’s shivering frame. “Breakfast’s not made and yet you are sleeping here like a tramp.”

Wonwoo didn’t have a chance to answer before the man grabbed his arm, yanking him up so hard that he winced. 

“I didn’t have you in the house as a lazy pig.” He shouted. 

A slap came hard and fast, knocking Wonwoo’s head to the side. “Now get in and make breakfast.” 

He was dragged into the kitchen - his tiny body barely standing upright while his cousins sat at the table, pretending to yawn but their eyes dancing with amusement. 

“Hurry up and get cooking.” The man spat. “Or I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” 

Wonwoo stumbled to the stove, vision blurry, hands trembling as he reached for the rice pot. 

The aunt? 

Sitting by the cousins, looking down at the table. 

At that point, Wonwoo knew.

He is alone. 

As always. 

// 

When Wonwoo turned thirteen, he was working odd jobs after school - stacking boxes in stores, delivering milk and newspapers, washing dishes in restaurants. Every cent went to the family and he never had a chance to question it. 

Years have passed and Wonwoo grew quieter and withdrawn with every passing year. His eyes were too tired for his age. At school, he never made friends. When teachers tried to be kind, he flinched. When classmates laughed too loudly, he would pull back instinctively, ready for the slap that never came. 

He worked hard in school when he realised that teachers would leave you alone when you had good grades. And most importantly, they do not have to call home. 

They do not need to contact the people he lived with. 

They do not need to give his uncle a reason to be angry. 

So Wonwoo poured himself into his books - not out of ambition, but out of fear. 

He memorised multiplication tables faster than anyone; listened attentively in class and took down notes diligently; woke up at dawn to revise in the hallway before the rest of the household stirred. 

At school, he would sit quietly in the front row, always on time, with his assignments handed in on time. He would watch the other children laugh, passing notes during class and sometimes getting scolded for talking back. But Wonwoo never dared. He believed that one reprimand from the teacher would mean a phone call home and he couldn’t afford that. 

He didn’t have trust in the other children. 

He didn’t have trust in the teachers. 

Trust for Wonwoo wasn’t broken. 

It had never existed. 

By the time he turned eighteen, Wonwoo left. He left the house. Not because they let him go, but he had had enough. One night, he packed all his things - a thin hoodie, his glasses, a secondhand phone that he had gotten from his aunt, some books and the silence that he had grown into like a second skin. 

No goodbyes.

No guilt.

He left the house the same way his parents had left him. 

Quietly. 

Now, he lived in the dorm at the university that he had enrolled in. He continued to study rigorously and worked hard to pay his bills. He kept his space spotless to prevent conflicts with his roommate. He avoids loud people at all costs, and doesn’t answer unknown calls for fear that it would be his uncle, and always, ALWAYS, chooses the seat facing the exit. 

He doesn’t let anyone close. 

He doesn’t believe in any form of relationships - friendship, kinship, love. 

Because it never existed in his life. 

Until he bumped into them…

// 

He recalled the day he received the notification that he had enrolled on the university. He was working his shift in the bookstore when he received it. No one had helped him apply. No one had cheered when he got the acceptance letter. He simply read the message and locked his phone before returning to shelving the books. 

That was the night when he packed up and left. He went straight to the university the next day and requested to move into the dorm, and thankfully, his request was granted. 

The door creaked open with a soft click, and Wonwoo stepped into the dorm like a shadow sliding across the floor. 

Room 1123

Two single beds.

Two desks.

One window that let in too much light. 

The room was empty when he arrived since his roommate hadn’t yet shown up. “At least I don’t have to socialise,” Wonwoo thought. 

Standing by the door, Wonwoo scanned the space. Then his eyes landed on the two beds. One closer to the entrance, one against the far wall, tucked into a quiet corner. 

He didn’t hesitate and moved towards the bed furthest from the door. Not because he liked the view of the room, but instinct told him: Distance is safety .

It was a habit he had acquired through his days back at the house. 

At his uncle’s house, he was often dragged out of rooms - by the wrist, by the collar, by the hair. You name it, he had it. Doors were never protection; they were thresholds for chaos. The closer you are to them, the faster the storm reaches you. 

Doors are not safe, at least that’s what Wonwoo thought. 

So now, even in a new place, a relatively safe space, Wonwoo still picked the corner. Still positioned the pillows so that he could have the full view of the room. 

His roommate? He came in 2 hours after Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo was already on his bed, reading his lecture notes when the roommate barged in, making Wonwoo flinch on the bed. 

“Hello! You must be my roommate. I’m Mingyu!” Mingyu stood in front of Wonwoo to greet him. 

“Wonwoo.” Wonwoo looked up from his notes and nodded before returning to his notes again. 

That was it. 

No smile. 

No introduction. 

Mingyu shrugged his shoulders, thinking that he was just a shy boy, in general. 

But he gradually realised throughout the day that there was something about Wonwoo that made the room feel quieter. Not awkwardly quiet, but muted-quiet. 

Mingyu talked a little more - about the upcoming freshman orientation, selection of class modules, expectations of school. 

Wonwoo didn’t say a word. 

By night, Mingyu gave up on having small talk and opened his laptop. Wonwoo was still reading his lecture notes. The next morning, Wonwoo had already left the dorm by the time Mingyu woke up. 

And each day without fail, Wonwoo woke before Mingyu. Showered in silence, he left the dorm with his books perfectly packed. He kept his head down and sat through lectures in the far corner of the hall, always in the same seat, eyes focused and lips sealed. When class ended, he disappeared before the shuffle of chairs was heard. 

He didn’t participate in any interest clubs and distanced himself from everybody. 

He walked alone. 

He ate alone. 

He studied alone. 

People tried, at first. Friendly faces and tentative hellos came. But Wonwoo’s walls were thick. No one had successfully let themselves into Wonwoo’s circle and gradually all gave up

Back in the dorm, he would always sleep with his back to the wall, facing the door, and keeping a pocket knife by his pillow, for fear that his uncle would find him and barge in one day. 

Mingyu saw everything. 

He saw how fear was etched in Wonwoo’s skin. 

He saw how loneliness was hugging Wonwoo tightly. 

So did Jeonghan, Hoshi, Jihoon and Chan. 

At first, it was just curiosity. “That guy in the corner,” Hoshi whispered during class. “Does he ever talk?” 

“Nah,” Chan muttered. “I had group work with him. He just did the whole thing alone and emailed it to us before we said anything.” 

“He lives with you, right?” Jeonghan asked. 

Mingyu nodded. “Yeah, but he just doesn’t talk no matter how much I do.”

Jihoon chuckled at Mingyu’s comment. “Or did you talk too much?”

“Nah. No matter if it’s one word or many sentences, all I get is a nod or a shake. That’s all.” Mingyu replied. 

Looking at Wonwoo, who is sitting alone in the lecture hall, Mingyu saw how immersed he is in his reading. At times, Mingyu caught a look in Wonwoo’s eyes when he looked up at the lecturer and saw weariness that he couldn’t quite understand. 

Sometimes, their eyes met for the briefest moment, and Wonwoo immediately looked away. 

Mingyu wasn’t offended. He just wondered what kind of life Wonwoo had had before for him to be so wary of others. 

He noticed that Wonwoo always sat with his back to the wall. That he never took off his jacket, not even when it was burning hot. He saw how Wonwoo flinched when there were loud noises. He saw how Wonwoo stopped mid-step and stared at the ground when he caught sight of two people arguing in the corridor. 

And once, Mingyu saw Wonwoo gently tucked a piece of fallen paper back into a stranger’s open notebook without saying a word, then retreated to his original position as if kindness was a crime. 

He saw everything. 

And so did the rest of the group. 

Not with amusement, but with care. 

And they thought, “Why not?” 

It started with small things. 

A warm “Morning, Wonwoo!” in the corridor from Jeonghan. 

An extra sandwich was placed on his usual seat in the lecture hall by Mingyu. 

A silent wave from Chan. 

A gentle smile from Jihoon. 

A casual “Wanna join us for lunch?” from Hoshi. 

But every time, Wonwoo froze. He would shake his head, murmuring, “No thanks” or simply walk away. 

His heart pounded in those moments - not because of shyness, but scared. 

“What if they were just mocking me?” 

“What if they were doing it just to pull me close and push me down harder later?” 

Since that’s how he had experienced it before. 

So Wonwoo stayed quiet; stayed distanced; stayed guarded. 

The group of friends never pushed. They never asked why when he blatantly rejected every single time. They never laughed behind his back or shrugged him off. 

Instead, they got worried. So they continued, gently, steadily, for they knew somehow that Wonwoo is not rude, he’s scared. 

One morning, Mingyu slid a thermos towards Wonwoo during a rainy lecture. “It’s cold. Thought you might want some tea,” he said and he walked back to his seat and sipped from his own. Jeonghan nodded at Wonwoo and lifted the same thermos with a smile. 

Wonwoo didn’t take it at first and just stared at it like it might explode. “What’s this for? Am I allowed to drink?” 

But Mingyu didn’t pressure him. He just let it sit there on the table, like a quiet offering of warmth. Eventually, Wonwoo drank it fifteen minutes later, when no one was looking and brought the thermos back to the dorm. 

Sometimes, Mingyu would ask him how the assignment was going. 

Or offer an extra pen during class. 

Or hold the door open, waiting just a little longer than necessary so Wonwoo wouldn’t have to reach out first. 

Or even leaving sticky notes on Wonwoo’s desk in their dorm: 

Lunch if you’re up for it. 

I’ve saved you the last slice of cake. It’s in the fridge. 

I’ve printed the notes for next week’s lecture! 

Wonwoo rarely responded. But, somehow, he kept the notes. 

“It’s just a passing phase. They will be gone soon. Don’t fall into their trap.” He reminded himself. 

// 

Trust didn’t arrive like a light switch. It came in hesitant flickers that flicker nonstop for a long time. 

It’s been 6 months since the start of the semester and Wonwoo is still the same. Quiet. Alone. Distant. 

Mingyu and the group are the same. Accommodating. Trying. Caring. 

And that’s when Wonwoo started to notice things about himself. 

He noticed that he was starting to look forward to the notes left behind by Mingyu. 

The messages in the chat group (yes, they added Wonwoo into their chat group)

The group’s companions at lectures as they began to sit together. 

He realised that he is beginning to enjoy the group’s warmth, laughter and time spent together, despite not interacting much. 

And everything became too overwhelming for him a few weeks later. 

It started with whispers. 

Wonwoo’s birthday was never a thing he told anyone about. To him, it is just another normal day. A day where he used to work through or sleep away because it hurt less than hoping for things that never came. 

But Mingyu noticed the date on a form. Jihoon overheard Wonwoo mutter it in passing to a professor. And quietly, the group decided: He deserves something . 

They planned everything in secret, but nothing too loud, too flashy. Just a warm, cosy setup in Wonwoo’s and Mingyu’s dorm with streamers in soft colours, a cake with Wonwoo’s name written on it, and his favourite snacks and drinks lined up like a cafeteria. 

Mingyu was the one who led Wonwoo in, gently tugging the strap of his bag along. 

Wonwoo hesitated at the door, sensing something was off. The quiet hum of anticipation in the room, the odd way everyone looked up at once when he entered. 

“Happy birthday!” The boys said while Jeonghan held the cake in front of Wonwoo, ensuring not too loud for him to be afraid. 

Singing the birthday song, Wonwoo felt something unfamiliar tugging at his heart. And strangely, something tugged at his face too. He reached up instinctively, fingertips brushing his cheek. 

It was only then he realised - he was smiling. 

A real, small, almost shy smile. 

Not the force-tight-lipped ones he had learn to show when his uncle demanded it. 

Not the trembling, fearful ones when he was trying to survive another day. 

He watched as they sang the song for him. 

He observed how they kept their volume down despite having 4 grown-ups singing at the same time. 

For the first time in as long as he could remember, someone had cared enough to get a cake, to sing a song, to look at him like he mattered. Most importantly, someone had remembered. 

Wonwoo’s chest felt full in a way that scared him. 

He swallowed hard against the lump rising in his throat, trying to hold on to that warmth as he looked at them. He closed his eyes for a second, letting the song wrap around him like a blanket he didn’t know he needed. 

And then - 

POP. 

POP-POP. 

The sound of party poppers filled the room like miniature thunderclaps. 

Confetti rained down. 

And Wonwoo?

He froze. 

The air changed in an instant. His expression dropped. His eyes closed even tighter and he flinched so hard that it looked like someone had struck him. 

In that moment, he was back in his old room and all he could feel was 

The slap on his cheek 

The shouting from his uncle 

The smashing of plates

The sound of the doors slamming

His cries 

The room fell silent. 

The rest of the boys looked at the door, only to realise that it was the neighbours of Mingyu and Wonwoo. “HEY NERD, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Hajoon and Siwoo shouted at the door.

Jihoon quickly shoved them away and closed the door. “Idiots,” he muttered. 

The rest turned back and saw Wonwoo’s body locking up, shoulders rigid and his eyes closed. 

The room fell silent. 

Then Mingyu tried stepping forward, slow and calm. He didn’t touch him, stood beside him and spoke gently. “Wonwoo, it’s okay. You’re here, you’re safe. It’s just us.” 

He kept repeating it in intervals until Wonwoo opened his eyes and blinked. 

One second. 

Then two. 

It felt like he got pulled back into the dorm and the sound disappeared. 

He turned, eyes focusing on Mingyu’s face. He didn’t speak, couldn’t speak. 

He turned, eyes focusing on the rest of the boys. He didn’t smile, couldn’t smile. 

Looking at the cake, a single candle flickered. 

He picked up the fork and shoved a chunk of cake into his mouth, chewing mechanically. 

Then another chunk. 

And another. 

By the third bite, his shoulders started to shake, tears started streaking down his cheeks. 

Everyone exchanged worried glances. “Wonwoo, Won… It’s okay,” Jeonghan said gently, crouching down beside him.

Jihoon tried to push the plate of cake a little farther back to make him stop, but Wonwoo grabbed another piece with frantic hands and stuffed it into his mouth, even with the tears falling. 

Hoshi tried to hand him a napkin. 

Chan softly tried to distract him, joking weakly, “You’re going to get a stomachache later, dummy…” 

But nothing reached him. 

Nothing got through the wall of fear and survival. 

Wonwoo is still shoving the cake into his mouth aimlessly. 

Seeing that nothing was working, Mingyu gently reached out by placing his hand flat against the table. 

“Wonwoo,” he whispered. “You’re safe. No one’s mad. No one is going to hurt you.” 

mad

hurt 

The words filtered through Wonwoo’s terror-clouded mind, making him jerk once again. The cake he had crammed into his mouth now choked him with sweetness that turned sour. 

Without thinking, without even swallowing the food in his mouth, Wonwoo flinched away from everyone, his back hitting the wall and a broken cry ripping from his throat: 

“Don’t hit me! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Don’t be mad!”

Crumbs and cake were smeared at the side of his mouth as he ducked down, shielding his head with his arms, his body curling into himself instinctively. 

As if his uncle is right at the scene, holding onto a belt and lashing it on him. 

The room froze and everyone was shocked. 

Mingyu’s heart shattered. 

He immediately pulled back, hands raised, voice breaking, “No no no, no one’s doing that.” 

But Wonwoo couldn’t hear him. He was trapped somewhere deep inside himself, sobbing out broken apologies over and over again, back hitting the wall repeatedly. 

The boys stood stunned, helpless and hearts aching. 

“We need to do something - he’s stuck. If we let him continue, he’s going to have a panic attack,” Hoshi whispered urgently. 

Mingyu moved slowly, sinking fully to sit on the floor, lowering himself to Wonwoo’s level without touching him. With his voice lower than before, he muttered, “Wonwoo, you’re safe. It’s us. We’re here.”

Maybe it was the patience - Mingyu kept repeating

Maybe it was the exhaustion - Wonwoo kept crying

Maybe it was the simple fact - no one was hitting him 

Gradually, Wonwoo’s sobs grew softer. The flinches that had wracked his small frame became sluggish; his arms loosened slightly around his head; his curled up body sagged forward. 

Mingyu, seeing the shift, moved carefully - slow and steady - and positioned himself where Wonwoo would naturally fall if he collapsed. 

Which he did. 

Without warning, Wonwoo’s body simply gave out, crashing forward like a puppet with its strings cut away. 

Mingyu caught him in his soft, protective embrace, mindful of his touches. 

Wonwoo didn’t resist, simply because he wasn’t aware. He merely dropped into Mingyu’s chest, shaky gasps leaving his mouth, hands clutching tightly on Mingyu’s hoodie. 

Jeonghan took a piece of tissue to clean Wonwoo’s mouth. 

Chan left to grab Wonwoo’s blanket. 

Jihoon dimmed the light in the room. 

Hoshi turned up the temperature of the air conditioner. 

Unsure of how much time had passed, Mingyu simply held on to Wonwoo, feeling every shuddered breath against his chest. The boy in his arms was too light, too tense even in his sleep. 

“We should move him to his bed. He’ll be more comfortable,” Hoshi suggested. 

Mingyu nodded, careful not to jostle Wonwoo too much. 

Together with painstaking gentleness, they shifted. Lifting Wonwoo in his arms, Mingyu carried him onto Wonwoo’s bed and laid him down gently, pulling the covers up over his small, trembling frame. 

He lingered for a moment, brushing Wonwoo’s hair back from his clammy forehead. 

Wonwoo whimpered in his sleep and his face still tight with fear. 

And Mingyu felt something deep in his chest twist painfully - an ache that no words could soothe. He had seen hints of Wonwoo’s trauma - the way he flinched at loud noises, the way he barely spoke, the way he kept to himself, the way he never, ever asked for anything, the way he works. 

But this, this complete breakdown, this reaction from a seemingly non-threatening party popper (for most people), it hit Mingyu like a punch to his gut. 

And it made him realise:

He cares. 

He knelt beside the bed, resting his folded arms on the mattress, close enough for Wonwoo to feel his presence if he woke - but not touching, not crowding. 

He watched Wonwoo’s chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths. 

“I want to protect you,” Mingyu thought fiercely. “I want you to know you’re safe. I want you to never have to flinch like that again.” 

It wasn’t pity. 

It wasn’t sympathy. 

It was something deeper, heavier. 

He wanted to stay. 

Or rather 

He needed to stay. 

Not just for tonight. 

Not just for now. 

For as long as Wonwoo needed someone

He would fight for Wonwoo. 

For his trust.

For his safety.

For his happiness. 

He wants to help Wonwoo chase away the monsters. 

He wants to be there for him… 

Chapter Text

The room had fallen into a strange, heavy quiet. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the rustle of clothes can be heard. 

Lying in bed, Wonwoo is eerily quiet. 

Breathing shallow. 

His face was pale with his cheeks still streaked with dried tears. 

His hands curled into fists under the blanket, gripping it tightly as if it were the only thing anchoring him. 

The boys thought and hoped that sleep would bring him some relief. 

Mingyu continued to stay by the bed, while the rest started cleaning up. Picking up the decorations and the streamers from the party poppers, placing the remaining cake into the fridge, all in gentle moves. 

It started small. 

A shudder ran through Wonwoo’s body. A slight, strained whimper in the back of his throat. His legs curling inward, as if trying to make himself smaller. 

Mingyu noticed it first. He leaned closer, heart hammering, as Wonwoo’s face contorted into a mask of terror - eyebrows knitting together, mouth pulling into a silent, desperate cry. 

Then came the words. Broken, barely audible. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’ll do better. Please don’t hit me…” 

Each plea was like a blade slicing through the room. 

As if it’s not enough, Wonwoo’s hands weren’t resting at his sides like before. 

They had slowly risen, hovering near his face, trembling violently with his fingers splayed open. 

As if trying to shield himself. 

As if expecting a blow. 

A defence reflex burned into his bones.

Mingyu’s throat tightened painfully. 

It wasn’t just a nightmare. It was Wonwoo reliving his trauma - replaying in his mind, over and over again and he couldn’t wake up from it. 

This time round, Wonwoo let out a strangled gasp with his hands jerking up higher, covering the side of his head protectively. 

“I’m sorry… please! I’ll be good, I promise!” 

The words spilt out between shuddering breaths, choked and broken.

He glanced back at the others - their faces were stricken and helpless. None of them had ever seen this side of Wonwoo so bare, so raw. And it wasn’t just sadness that they felt. 

It was rage. At the people who had done this to him. But now, it wasn’t the time for anger. 

Now was the time for protection. And they are here to stay. 

Just then, the whimpers grew into frantic, gasping sobs as Wonwoo’s body thrashed slightly. Instead of cowering, Wonwoo started kicking out weakly, as if trying to escape from any hands. 

The other boys gathered closer, exchanging anxious, helpless looks. 

“Should we wake him?” Chan whispered. 

Mingyu shook his head grimly. 

“Waking him now could disorient him even more, and make the panic worse,” Jihoon commented and Mingyu thanked him for that. 

So they did the only thing they could: they stayed. 

Mingyu settled himself more comfortably on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs beside Wonwoo. He kept one hand lightly over Wonwoo’s, careful not to startle him, offering a grounding presence. 

Across the room, Jeonghan dimmed the lights even further, creating a cocoon of quiet safety. Hoshi set a glass of water nearby, just in case Wonwoo woke up thirsty. Jihoon placed a pack of tissues on the bedside table. 

They worked in perfect, wordless tandem, with every small action carrying the same silent message: 

We’re here. We’re not leaving. 

They continued staying and Wonwoo seemed to have fallen back into deep sleep, albeit with a tight grip on his blankets. 

Around two in the morning, Wonwoo’s body jolted again. Not as violently as before, but enough to send a ripple of fear through the room. 

He gasped in his sleep, loud enough to awaken the rest of the boys. Only to realise that Wonwoo is flinching, again, at some invisible threat and tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. 

Mingyu started humming under his breath, a soft, tuneless melody filling the room with a fragile sense of calm. 

None of them spoke, but their eyes were filled with worry. 

Hours passed like slow molasses. By the time the first hints of dawn touched the curtains, Wonwoo had finally stopped trembling so violently. His breathing had evened out into shallow, exhausted breaths. But he was still visibly restless, face scrunched up and murmuring apologies now and then. 

Mingyu hadn’t moved from his spot since. His body was stiff and aching from sitting in the same position for hours, but he kept his hands loosely resting near Wonwoo’s arms, grounding him in the silent way he had all night. 

And then he noticed a twitch — a small shift under the blanket. 

Wonwoo’s brows furrowed slightly, his breathing catching for a moment as he stirred. 

Slowly, he blinked open his swollen, tired eyes. Confusion flooded his face immediately as he pushed himself up. He sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Panic flickered to life in his exhausted mind as he stared around without his glasses, taking in the soft light, the unfamiliar shadows and the blurred faces nearby. 

“Where am I? Who are they?” With no glasses, the blurriness sent him straight into panic mode. 

He slammed himself back to the wall, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. His eyes darted to the door, to the window, to the blurred faces. Mumbling under his breath, his voice hoarse and raw, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’ll clean, I swear. Don’t be mad…” 

Each word was barely more than a broken whisper. 

Each syllable laced with an old terror that he hadn’t shaken off yet. 

The look on the boys’ eyes showed how worried they were. 

Mingyu’s heart broke all over again.

He moved slowly - slow enough for Wonwoo to see every motion. Holding onto Wonwoo’s glasses, he placed them on top of Wonwoo’s hands. 

“Wonwoo,” He muttered. “It’s us… This is your glasses.” 

Feeling the weight on his hands, Wonwoo grabbed his pair of glasses and placed them on his face. He blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear the fog from his mind. His body was still trembling under the blanket. 

“You’re still at our dorm. Nothing bad happened.” Mingyu whispered. 

Looking to the front, Hoshi and Chan waved their hands, seated far away from Wonwoo’s bed to give him space. “Morning,” Hoshi said. 

Jeonghan pushed the cup of water nearer to Wonwoo and left it there. 

Mingyu stayed where he was, his hands still close but not touching, watching Wonwoo’s confused eyes dart between them all. 

Wonwoo’s breathing was still shallow, but the recognition flickered dimly in his gaze. 

These were the people who were with him last night. 

Who didn’t yell. 

Who didn’t hit. 

Who stayed. 

His throat worked as he swallowed dryly. Finally, in the softest, scratchiest voice, he croaked, “Why… Why are you guys still here?” 

Mingyu felt something lodge painfully in his chest. He smiled, albeit small, and answered without hesitation, “Because we want.” 

Wonwoo looked around and saw the rest of the boys nodding and smiling. 

The room fell silent. 

*knock knock* 

A faint knock could be heard from the door and Jeonghan had slipped out briefly, only to return with a bowl of warm oatmeal and a glass of warm milk. 

Everything is easy to eat, nothing is heavy and overwhelming. 

Mingyu looked up and raised his eyebrow, as if saying, “Who?”

“Coups,” Jeonghan mouthed and Mingyu nodded, silently thanking him. 

The tray was placed near Wonwoo’s bed with a soft murmur, “Eat if you can. If not, it’s okay too.” 

There was no pressure. 

No expectation. 

Just offerings.

Just care. 

Wonwoo stared at the tray for a long while, his hands trembling faintly in his lap. But eventually, with halting, cautious movements, he picked up the bowl and took a tiny, tentative bite. 

He chewed slowly. Like he wasn’t sure if it was allowed. 

Like he was waiting for someone to slap the bowl out of his hand. 

But no slap came. 

The boys were just sitting on the couch in front of the bed, looking at Wonwoo earnestly. 

While Mingyu continued to sit by him, with his hands on Wonwoo’s blanket. 

Throughout the morning, the environment remained soft and mellow. Voices stayed at a hush and every movement was deliberately slowed down. Mingyu even kept his phone silent, refusing to let any sharp ringtones break the fragile peace. 

When Wonwoo finished half of his oatmeal, his eyelids drooped heavily with the exhaustion catching up. “Why don’t you lie back down and have some rest?” Mingyu asked. 

Wonwoo gently let out a “umm” and followed Mingyu’s actions to lie back down. He even pulled up the blanket lightly. 

“Rest, Wonwoo,” Mingyu said softly. 

As Wonwoo drifted back to sleep, his hand twitched once - reaching, uncertain. 

Mingyu moved his hand nearby but did not grab him. Just offering it open and staying still. 

And slowly, Wonwoo’s trembling fingers brushed against Mingyu’s knuckles. 

Not a grip. 

Not a hold. 

Just contact. 

Just trust. 

And that tiny touch, so fragile it could barely be called a touch at all, was the loudest cry for help Wonwoo had ever given. 

Mingyu smiled through the sting in his eyes, whispering against the dimness, “You’re safe”

And this time, even in his sleep, Wonwoo didn’t flinch. 

He simply breathed. 

//

By the time he woke up, the dorm room was bathed in a soft, blue glow from the moonlight seeping through the curtains. 

The world outside slept. 

Inside, the silence wrapped around everything like a warm blanket. 

Wonwoo’s eyes blinked open slowly. Still tucked in bed, the blanket drawn up to his chest. 

But something was different. 

The haze was gone. 

The panic was quiet. 

He wasn’t waking up in terror this time round. 

No more flinching. 

No gasping for air. 

He is just… breathing. 

He tried sitting up slowly, careful not to rustle the blanket too loudly. 

And that’s when he noticed that Mingyu was still there. 

Asleep, but right by his side, by the edge of the bed, on the floor. Slumping forward on the mattress, with his arms close to Wonwoo’s side. 

And between them, Wonwoo’s fingers, still gently curled around one of Mingyu’s. It was like his body had reached for Mingyu during sleep, grasping that fragile thread of comfort, and Mingyu had let him hold on. 

The warmth of that single point of contact made Wonwoo’s chest ache.

It was so small, so gentle.

Nothing like he had ever known. 

He stared at their joined hands for a long time before looking around the room. Everybody had left, except Mingyu. “Only he stayed. No one stayed before.” Wonwoo thought. 

With a hesitant motion, Wonwoo sat up properly. Bringing his knees close to his chest, Wonwoo still held on to Mingyu’s finger. He didn’t mean to wake Mingyu up but his shifting weight must have stirred something because Mingyu blinked awake and his gaze instantly darted to Wonwoo. 

“Wonwoo?” Mingyu asked softly, voice hoarse from sleep. 

Sitting up straighter, he rubbed his neck. “Are you okay?” 

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away. 

He just looked at him - the shadows under Mingyu’s eyes, the gentleness of concern in his expression, the tired kindness etched into every inch of him. 

And then Wonwoo whispered, “You… you stayed.” With every word, Wonwoo tightened his grip on Mingyu’s finger. 

“Of course I did,” Mingyu answered with a quiet smile. 

Wonwoo’s lips trembled, but not from fear. 

Something softer was brewing in his chest and his eyes shimmered in the dim light. 

He just nodded and then let go of Mingyu’s fingers slowly. “I’m… okay,” he murmured, voice rough. “Sorry that you guys have to see the worst part of me.”

Pausing to take a deep breath, Wonwoo continued, “But… thank you so much… Thank you for staying.” 

Mingyu exhaled, shaky and relieved. He reached out slowly, resting his hand over Wonwoo’s palm. “You don’t have to thank me for staying,” he said gently while stroking Wonwoo’s knuckles. “I will be here, no matter when.” 

Wonwoo’s shoulders shook just a little. He didn’t flinch, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like he had to run away from anyone. 

Looking out of the window, the night sky doesn’t seem that scary as before, “Maybe because I have someone who cares, for the first time,” Wonwoo thought. 

//

The days that followed went by like a breeze but accompanied by quiet victories. To Mingyu and friends, they noticed the shift in Wonwoo’s behaviours. Because Wonwoo was trying, bit by bit. At first, Wonwoo didn’t say much. He still kept to himself but he was there. 

He sat on his bed reading when Mingyu invited Jeonghan and others to his dorm to stick around or play games. 

He sat by the same table as the rest when they gathered for meals. 

He sat in the same corner in the lecture hall and did not escape when the group decided to sit by him during lectures. 

He never spoke up to joke along. 

But he smiled - faint, small, genuine. 

And that was enough for the rest of them. 

“I’m glad that Wonwoo didn’t push us away,” Chan said as they walked up to Wonwoo’s dorm. 

“Agree. Although he is still quiet, at least he is there,” Hoshi answered with Jihoon nodding beside. 

“This is enough for now. So long as he knows we are there for him, I think it’s enough,” Jeonghan commented. 

The group nodded and went silent until they reached the dorm. 

“Hello Wonwoo!” Everyone greeted gently once Mingyu opened the door. Lying on his bed, Wonwoo was reading the latest story that he bought and nodded gently at the presence of others. 

“We’re just gonna hang out in here, join us whenever you’re ready,” Chan added before plopping down on the couch. 

Wonwoo hummed before diving back into his fiction land while Mingyu chuckled at Wonwoo’s actions. 

“Dude, get a grip,” Jihoon jokingly bumped into Mingyu’s elbow before sitting on the rug. 

Sticking out his tongue at Jihoon, Mingyu went into the kitchen to grab some drinks for the boys before joining them on the rug. 

As time passed, the group gradually sprawled across the floor, playing Monopoly with music humming faintly from a speaker. 

“Hahahaha, you landed in jail again!” Chan laughed at Hoshi’s sad face as he moved his token into the jail cell. 

“It’s just my luck. You better make sure you don’t get it on the next round!” Hoshi retorted. 

Jihoon laughed at Hoshi’s bitterness and ruffled his hair before throwing the dice for his turn. 

Wonwoo finally looked up from his book and decided to get off his bed and go to the kitchen. Grabbing a can of Coke, he walked to Mingyu and sat beside him. 

“Hmm?” Mingyu gently hummed and looked at him. 

“Can.. I join?” Very quietly, Wonwoo whispered. 

The room went still. Jeonghan dropped his dice. Hoshi blinked, surprised. Dino gasped. Mingyu’s smile broke like sunlight. 

“Only if you want to,” Mingyu said, his voice careful not to be too excited. 

Wonwoo gave a small nod. 

“Oh yes! We can restart and I can finally be out of jail!” Hoshi exclaimed. 

Wonwoo smiled and took a token from the box to kick-start the game. 

He didn’t talk much during the game, barely made any sound. But he sat through the entire round beside Mingyu, eyes tracking every move. 

It wasn’t loud. 

It wasn’t dramatic.

But for Wonwoo, it was everything. 

And when Mingyu caught Wonwoo’s eyes, his look said it all: “I’m so proud of you.” 

Wonwoo? He smiled. 

That night when everyone went back, Mingyu and Wonwoo remained seated on the rug, sipping their cans of Coke. The air was crisp and quiet. 

Wonwoo looked at their reflection on the TV and whispered, “I like being with you all… You guys made me less scared,” he whispered. 

“Thank you for accepting us. You don’t have to do anything, just being here is more than enough.” Mingyu turned to him, replying calmly and softly. 

Wonwoo’s eyes shimmered and he nodded. 

//

And Mingyu?

He fell quietly and deeply. Not because Wonwoo was perfect but he was real. 

At first, it was merely concern - the kind you feel when someone seems so alone, even when surrounded by others. 

Wonwoo barely spoke, barely looked anyone in the eye. 

Moved like he was expecting any form of punishment. 

It tugged at Mingyu’s chest in a way that didn’t let go. 

But over time, watching how Wonwoo closed up to himself and denied any form of affection made him realise it was more than concern. 

The first time Wonwoo quietly took the tumblr that Mingyu had prepared for him. 

The way his shoulders eased when Mingyu sat beside him. 

The tiny smile Wonwoo gave when someone made a joke. 

And then the night after Wonwoo’s breakdown, when Mingyu found himself sitting by Wonwoo’s bed, watching over Wonwoo and realising that: 

He wants to be there for him. 

He wants to protect him.

He loves him. 

Not in the way people fall into fleeting romance but in the way that meant: 

“I would tear the world apart before I let anyone hurt you again.” 

Even so, Mingyu’s love is subtle. 

It wasn’t demanding. 

He never once revealed anything to Wonwoo but instead offered safety. 

He waited and wrapped himself in patience and presence. 

When Wonwoo joined them at the table, Mingyu ensured that he was always by his side, guarding him from the side that once had no defence. 

When Wonwoo picked up a card to play with them, Mingyu simply gave a warm look, a silent “I see you and I’m proud”, and let Wonwoo feel the victory without pressure. 

When Wonwoo flinched too deeply at a loud sound, or he cowered instinctively at a raised hand in group settings, Mingyu felt a deep, simmering anger beneath his skin. And he would clench his fists, taking a breath and remembering: You can’t fight trauma with rage.  

So instead of yelling at the world, Mingyu stayed close and brushed his hands near Wonwoo, letting him feel his presence. He stood between Wonwoo and anyone who dared raise their voice. He watched Wonwoo sleep when the night terrors came and whispered to him repeatedly, “You’re safe.” 

//

The group noticed too. 

It wasn’t something that Mingyu ever said out loud, but his actions spoke for him. 

Jeonghan realised that Mingyu would unconsciously shift towards Wonwoo during group conversations - not in a loud way or to demand Wonwoo’s attention. But he would always leave space beside him on the couch, angling his body slightly to give Wonwoo a sense of belonging. 

Hoshi observed that Mingyu would take note of people’s volume levels around Wonwoo and gently steered the tone of the room whenever voices climbed a little too high. Hoshi saw how Mingyu would subtly move closer to Wonwoo when Wonwoo twitched or had his hands curled slightly under the table. Once, Hoshi saw how Wonwoo blinked hard during a lecture when someone from the back shouted the answer across and curled inward slightly. Mingyu didn’t miss a beat and sat himself closer to Wonwoo, before brushing his hands against Wonwoo’s. 

Jihoon noticed that Mingyu would step in and ensure that Wonwoo eats on time. He saw how Mingyu would always time it right - just as Wonwoo’s hands began to tremble from hunger that he didn’t realise, or just as Wonwoo’s stomach gave the smallest, almost inaudible growl. 

Chan witnessed how Mingyu would always check on Wonwoo, making sure that he was warm. Despite Wonwoo wearing long sleeves all day round, Mingyu always ensure that he has an extra hoodie or jacket slung over the back of Wonwoo’s chair or a blanket nearby or a scarf folded neatly on Wonwoo’s bed. He always sat closer to Wonwoo in cold classrooms, not crowding but enough to block the wind from the window. 

They all noticed how Mingyu’s eyes constantly followed Wonwoo, not in pity but in quiet attunement. 

Jeonghan finally said it out loud after witnessing a long library session where Mingyu sat beside Wonwoo for hours, helping him organise his notes, barely speaking. With him just beside Wonwoo, their shoulders brushing against each other. 

“You’re falling for him,” he whispered while Wonwoo was packing up to leave. 

Mingyu blinked, caught off guard. He looked at Wonwoo and back at Jeonghan but never did he once deny it. 

Because he didn’t need to. 

Because it was true. 

Friends did not question Mingyu’s heart. It wasn’t an intervention but it had that same hush of gravity. 

One evening, with Wonwoo napping in the dorm, the rest of the boys gathered their snacks and walked to their dorm for their weekly board game night, Jihoon broke the ice. 

“Can we do a quick check-in?” 

Mingyu paused in his steps, turning to look at Jihoon. “Mm?” 

“You’re falling for Wonwoo, Mingyu ya,” Jihoon looked at Mingyu sternly in his eyes. 

“Mingyu ah,” Hoshi stepped up beside Mingyu. “Wonwoo’s not just shy. He’s hurt, deeply. We might not get the full story, but from what we had observed, there’s still a part of him stuck in the past.” 

“We’re not saying that it’s wrong for you to be in love with him, hyung,” Chan added, albeit with his cautious tone. “But we just want to know… Are you in this for real?” 

Mingyu’s eyes didn’t waver. “Yes,” He said it without flinching. “I don’t want anything from him. I am not expecting him to be in love with me. I’m not waiting for him to heal so that I can have him.. I just want him to be safe, to be happy, to be loved, even if it’s not by me in the end.” 

The group was quiet. 

Then Jeonghan added. “That’s the thing. He is beginning to trust you. You saw how he is gradually accepting having you by his side. You matter to him more than he probably imagines. So if you’re serious, if you’re real, you have to be careful. Like soul-level gentle.” 

“Because Mingyu ah,” Jihoon adds on. “If his heart breaks now, it is not going to be just a normal breakup. It will be a collapse for Wonwoo.” 

Mingyu nodded slowly. There was something in his chest - heavy, aching, honest.

“I know,” He took a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere, whether or not he ever returns my feelings. I’m in this and I want to protect him. I want to be someone he never has to flinch from.” 

Everyone heard his promise and smiled. 

“Okay, we’re glad to hear this.” Jeonghan patted Mingyu on his shoulder. “We just want to ensure that Wonwoo will be well taken care of.” 

Chan let out a slow breath of relief. 

Hoshi, gruff but fond, muttered, “Just don’t mess it up or else I’m legally obligated to punch you.” 

Jihoon chuckled and replied, “Make sure you do what you had promised. If not I’ll be the next one to land my hand on you.” 

Mingyu nodded solemnly, looking at everyone and said, “I won’t.” 

He looked towards the direction of their dorm. 

“I would never forgive myself if I hurt him. Ever.” 

He knew deep inside that he was willing to do anything, everything to keep Wonwoo safe. Not because Wonwoo needed saving, but because Wonwoo deserved it. 

As they turned the corner into their dorm, light spilt faintly from under the door. 

“Oh looks like Wonwoo had woken up,” Mingyu muttered. 

As Mingyu slowly pushed open the door, his heart jumped a little when he didn’t see Wonwoo on his bed. Before he rushed in, Hoshi’s voice slid into the room. “Oh hey, Wonwoo! You woke up!” 

Turning to the living area, Wonwoo sat on the mat, with his legs crossed and the board game already set up. Little tokens in place, and even mugs are lined up - not filled with any drinks but ready. 

He looked up as he heard Hoshi and his eyes widened. “Umm, you guys are back.” 

His voice was still soft, as always, but there was no fear in it tonight. Just filled with patience and anticipation. 

Mingyu’s steps faltered. He paused at how Wonwoo answered Hoshi seamlessly. 

There was no flinching in Wonwoo’s body. 

No shrinking back. 

No asking, “Am I allowed?” 

Just the quiet trust of someone who had waited and was setting up the game, reserving a space for his friends - for him. 

Jeonghan chuckled and walked up to the play area. “You set it up already? Thank you so much, Wonwoo ya.” 

Chan grinned, “I call green! No one touches it!” 

Jihoon walked over and gave Wonwoo a nod, not missing the way Wonwoo smiled at him. 

Hoshi was already sitting beside Wonwoo, grumbling at how Chan took dibs on the token that he wanted. 

And at that moment, Mingyu just stood there and watched Wonwoo smile. So small, so soft but real. He felt like his heart could break from the sheer purity of this peace. 

He didn’t want anything from Wonwoo in return. 

He just wants Wonwoo to be happy. 

And to Mingyu, that was more than enough.

Chapter Text

It’s been a year since Wonwoo started university. That’s how long it had been since Mingyu met Wonwoo. 

One year of sitting beside him without crowding. 

One year of listening without prying. 

One year of small, constant things just for Wonwoo - making drinks just the way Wonwoo liked it, a seat saved beside him for classes, soft footsteps instead of sudden knocks. 

To anyone else, Mingyu’s care may have looked like friendship, CLOSE friendship. 

But Wonwoo wasn’t just “anyone else”. 

He noticed.

He noticed how Mingyu intentionally lowered his volume when he spoke to him. 

He noticed how Mingyu stood closer to him when others approached him, 

He noticed how Mingyu had always made extra effort to ensure he was warm. 

He noticed and he pretended he didn’t. 

Because to him, believing it meant risking something Wonwoo had never known about. 

Wonwoo had spent his entire childhood believing that trust does not exist and love is transactional. His “family” members took him for granted and punished him wherever possible. 

Love and trust had never once existed. 

So when Mingyu gave, again and again, without hoping for anything back, Wonwoo got scared. 

What if Mingyu’s gentleness was temporary? 

What if all this time it was only a pity?

What if, one day, Mingyu looked at him the way his “family” used to? 

What if he made a mistake and the care was snatched away?

He stopped himself countless times to think otherwise. Some nights, Wonwoo found himself lying awake on his bed, hearing Mingyu’s steady breath from the other bed. 

And he would close his eyes and feel the overwhelming wish that one day, maybe, things would change. But the thought terrified him, the idea of hopelessness crushed him even further. 

“It will never happen to me. Just let this stay as it is. It will do everyone good.” Wonwoo thought, before turning to face the wall and grabbing the pocket knife under his pillow. 

//

It was Chan who noticed first. 

Wonwoo had been quiet during their weekly movie night. Not his usual kind of calm, but the withdrawn kind of silence. 

Every time Mingyu looked his way, Wonwoo would look down. 

When Mingyu sat beside him on the couch, Wonwoo shifted slightly. 

And whenever Wonwoo moved, he missed the sad, hurt look in Mingyu’s eyes. 

Chan watched and silently kept tabs on their interactions. 

The next day, Chan caught Wonwoo alone in the dorm’s kitchen, cleaning the mugs used for yesterday’s movie night while Mingyu went out for his class. 

“Hey,” Chan said casually, walking up beside Wonwoo. 

“Mmm,” Wonwoo nodded while continuing to wipe down the mugs. 

“I was just wondering…” Chan paused to realise that Wonwoo had stopped in his actions. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” 

Wonwoo dropped the mug he was cleaning, and thankfully Chan caught it just in time. “Hyung!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wonwoo replied hastily while moving out of the kitchen to sit on the couch. 

“I’m so sorry, hyung!” Chan followed and sat beside him. “I saw what happened between you and Mingyu hyung, and honestly, I feel that you know what’s going on. So I’m just trying to check with you.” 

Wonwoo pulled his knees in and hugged them tight. 

“You’re thinking hard. You’re feeling scared, scared that whatever Mingyu did wasn’t real, that one day he will stop caring like what he’s doing now.” Chan muttered. 

“How… It…. How did you know, Chan ah?” Wonwoo’s shoulders curled inward like he was trying to disappear. 

“Hyung… we all know.” 

“... it’s just not logical,” Wonwoo whispered. “Mingyu has been… he has been nothing but kind.” 

“But the voice in your head said that such kindness is a lie.” 

“...” A beat passed. “Yes”, and Wonwoo’s deep voice travelled through the air. 

“Hyung, I just want you to know that you’re not wrong in feeling this way.” Chan turned his body to face Wonwoo. “But I also want you to know that I’ve known Mingyu hyung for a long time, and he has never done anything halfway.” 

“He’s not waiting to have a reward from you. He’s just… there.” Chan continued, voice still calm. “Because you matter to him. And if that still scares you, it’s fine. Just observe him but don’t run so hard.” 

Wonwoo didn’t reply, but something in him cracked. 

Not the kind of crack that hurts, but the kind that lets a little glimpse of hope in. 

// 

That night, when Mingyu returned from his class, he found Wonwoo sitting on his bed, looking out of the window with a sad look. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Mingyu asked as he placed his bag on his bed. 

Wonwoo flinched at Mingyu’s voice and looked up. “Yeah, just thinking.” 

“Alright, I’m going to bathe and turn in for the night. If you are going to sleep, just switch off the light.” And off he went into the bathroom. 

Wonwoo stared in the direction of Mingyu and Chan’s words from earlier rang in his head.

“Just observe him”

“Think about the little things he had done. Not the extravagant gestures but the way he watches the volume in the room so that you don’t flinch. The way he ensures that you eat on time. The way he always lingers behind when the group splits. The way he always has a jacket for you.” 

Chan’s words hung in the air like a melody.

“Does that sound like someone who’s trying to hurt you?” Chan asked gently. 

“...” and he whispered, “No…”

Chan reached over to Wonwoo’s hands and held them tight. 

“You’ve been fighting so hard to protect yourself.” Wonwoo looked at him and the crack in him is visibly getting bigger. 

“You don’t have to let him in all at once. Maybe… maybe you can start by letting yourself believe that he is real.” 

That night, Wonwoo lay awake in his bed, despite switching off the light. Listening to Mingyu’s soft steps around the room, trying his best not to awaken him, soothes his nervous brain. 

For the first time, Wonwoo didn’t push the thoughts away. He let himself feel the warmth that Mingyu brought. 

“Goodnight, Wonwoo, ya,” Mingyu whispered, thinking that Wonwoo had already fallen asleep. 

“Goodnight, Mingyu,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath, as gentle as the breeze gliding in the room. 

//

Ever since the talk with Chan, Wonwoo had allowed himself to do minor things. 

Sitting beside Mingyu during their weekly movie nights. 

Asking gently if Mingyu wanted to share his snacks. 

He even caught himself watching Mingyu when Mingyu wasn’t there. 

And the feelings? 

It still scares him. It still confuses him. It tangles his heart into a silent war between embracing the emotions and protecting himself. 

But he knows, and he wants to believe that Mingyu is real and that he will stay, even though it is still unrealistic in his own words. 

Even when something dramatic happened…

// 

It was late evening and the dorm was quiet. Mingyu had gone out with the group to grab dinner for their usual board game night while Wonwoo had stayed back to get the game ready. 

While setting the game on the coffee table, a knock was heard at the door. 

The way the door rumbled and the sound of the knock that accompanied it made Wonwoo freeze. 

It sounded sharp. 

It sounded loud. 

It sounded familiar .

Another knock came in, even harder. Then a voice that shattered the fragile peace that he had built. 

“JEON WONWOO! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!” 

It’s his uncle, the brutal, ruthless uncle of his, and it made Wonwoo’s blood run cold. 

Before he could think of the next step, the door was pushed open harshly. 

And there he was. With his broad shoulder, face red, reeking of cigarettes and alcohol; his presence filled the room like a storm. Stumbling in the room, his steps were uneven and swaying while standing still. 

“So this is where you’ve been hiding for the past year, huh?” The man sneered. “Thought you could run away from us? From your responsibilities, huh?” 

Wonwoo couldn’t move. It felt like he was back in his uncle’s house, listening to all the scoldings since he was a child. 

“You think you can get to live easily when we were the ones who provided everything for you?” the man barked. “You ungrateful brat! You think these people will love you forever!” 

Wonwoo couldn’t answer. 

“Get your things, you’re coming home today!” The man shouted. 

He couldn’t make a single sound. 

“I’m talking to you, don’t make me repeat myself again!” The man walked up close to Wonwoo.

Silence. 

Then, a sharp, ringing slap went across Wonwoo’s face. 

So sudden.

So familiar. 

So loud.

But Wonwoo didn’t just feel it on his face. 

He felt it in his chest.

In his stomach. 

In the deepest parts of himself, he had been buried under blankets and silence. 

And suddenly, he wasn’t in the dorm anymore. 

The dorm faded and blurred into the narrow, dim corridors of his uncle’s house - the house where the walls always seemed to close in on him, no matter how small he tried to make himself. 

The smell of the house hits him even stronger—old oil, stale cigarettes, sour alcohol creeping into Wonwoo’s lungs. The metallic scent of rust and the faint, acidic tang of sweat-soaked anger made Wonwoo smell it as if he had never left. 

The air back at home was heavy. Not warm, not cold but suffocating. Like it was pressing against Wonwoo’s chest with invisible hands. Not a breeze, not a whisper of movement, like even the wind was afraid to enter the house. He remembered how it clung to his skin after all the punishments, like the house wanted to keep the pain inside. 

Then came the sounds. The sharp thump of slippers dragging across the floor - his uncle’s unmistakable gait. The dry creak of the floorboards beneath those heavy steps. The buzz of the overhead light that flickered and always seemed to die the moment Wonwoo needed it most. 

And then the voice. 

“Didn’t I tell you…” Low at first, and slurred with bitterness. 

“Didn’t I warn you…” And it gets louder. 

Then the explosion. The shout. The yell that shattered the silence of every evening. 

Accompanied by slamming of doors, cracking of belt against a table and the repetitive thunder of rage striking onto Wonwoo’s body that had no rhythm, no logic, but power and punishment. 

A sudden voice broke through all the memories of the childhood home and Wonwoo flinched as the voice cut through the chaos. 

“Stop it! Stop! You’re going to kill him!” Not his own. Not the man’s. It was hers, his aunt. 

When his vision was cleared, he saw how the man’s face loomed in front of him, distorted by rage. A hand gripped onto Wonwoo’s collar, brutal and unforgiving, yanking him up onto his tiptoes. Wonwoo’s breath hitched with his hands clawing on the man’s clothes, desperate to break free. 

“Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I’ll fix it! I’ll fix it!” His voice cracked, the words tumbling over each other in a frantic attempt to appease, to make the yelling stop, to make the pain go away. 

“Stop it! This isn’t your house!” The woman continued to pry the man’s hands away from Wonwoo’s collar. 

The hand tightened. 

The yelling, from everybody, got louder. 

“STOP IT! YOU ARE HURTING HIM!” The woman managed to pull her husband away, voice trembling with fear but filled with urgency. 

And suddenly, the grip on his collar released. His small frame fell to the floor, a heap of trembling limbs and shallow breaths. 

“Don’t think that this is over.” The man snarled while his wife tugged him away from the dorm. The man continued to struggle, yelling even when he was pulled out of the room. 

Then, the door slammed shut. 

And the silence that followed was deafening. 

But Wonwoo didn’t feel it. He was still trapped in that echo of a childhood he had tried to bury. 

The raised voices. 

The blows he could never predict. 

The collar pulled tight around his neck. 

Lying on the floor, he trembled. His hands rose slowly, shaking, as if trying to block something. His mouth moved, muttering, “I’ll do better. I’ll do anything. Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t know how much time had passed. 

Seconds?

Minutes?

Then, footsteps were heard. 

Familiar voices sounded down the hallway. 

“We should’ve bought more chicken. Wonwoo love his fried chicken.” 

“Yeah, yeah, all about Wonwoo, huh, someone,” Jeonghan’s smirking tone can be heard. 

But Wonwoo couldn’t respond. 

Still stuck in the whirlpool of invisible threats. 

The door to the dorm creaked open and footsteps shuffled in. 

Mingyu was the first to notice Wonwoo on the floor and his smile vanished. 

“Wonwoo?”

The rest of the boys froze. The bags of chips slipped to the floor with a dull thud. 

“What happened?” Jeonghan’s voice cracked through the quiet.

But Wonwoo didn’t respond. His eyes clenched tight, hands still stretched out and repeating “I’m sorry. I’m sorry ”.

Mingyu walked straight up to Wonwoo and crouched in front of him, careful not to get too close. 

“Wonwoo,” he said softly. It’s us. No one else.” 

He made sure that he didn’t touch him but just stayed there. 

Jeonghan slowly joined him and sat around Wonwoo. 

“You’re safe, Wonwoo. Whatever happened, you’re safe now.” Jihoon muttered. 

Jihoon moved quietly to close the door, shielding Wonwoo from any further intrusions. Hoshi knelt a little way back, giving space but staying present. Chan looked around the room to check if anything was amiss. Only to return to Jeonghan and sit beside him. 

They didn’t bombard him with questions. 

They didn’t rush him to explain. 

They just waited. 

“Wonwoo, you’re safe.” 

“It’s only us…” 

The voices sounded like now.
The voices sounded like safe.

And it pulled him, inch by inch, back to the room.
Back to the present.
Back to the boys.
Back to Mingyu. 

It took minutes, long, slow minutes, before Wonwoo’s breath began to even out. His shaking hands lowered slightly. His eyes, still glazed with panic, flicked towards Mingyu. 

“He was here…” Wonwoo whispered, voice cracking. 

Mingyu’s heart broke. But he didn’t let it show. 

“Who was here?” Jeonghan asked. 

“Uncle…” Wonwoo started tearing up. Looking up, he saw the illusion of his uncle standing behind Jeonghan and started panicking. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry!!! I will make it right. Don’t hit me! I’m sorry!!!!” Wonwoo started curling up into the fetal position and protecting his head. 

“No, no, no!” Mingyu placed his hands over Wonwoo’s. “Wonwoo, nobody’s here. Focus on my voice.”

“Listen, it’s me. Mingyu. Jeonghan hyung, Hoshi hyung, Jihoon hyung and Chan are here too. Nobody else. It’s only us, hmm.” Mingyu, frantically, trying to get his voice across. 

“Mingyu…

“Jeonghan…”

“Hoshi…”

“Jihoon…”

“Chan…”

“Yes, it’s only us…” Mingyu kept his voice low and held Wonwoo’s hands tight. “It’s safe now, I’m here with you.” 

The warmth on Wonwoo’s hands settled him down. It was warm, steady and real; like someone anchoring a drifting ship. 

Wonwoo’s breathing hitched. The scent of old cigarettes began to dissolve, replaced by the scent on Mingyu’s hoodie - the hoodie that Mingyu always threw over Wonwoo’s shoulders after a late-night hangout. 

His blurred vision began to clear and all he saw was Mingyu crouching in front of him. Blinking hard once, twice and then his body caught up with the clarity in his mind. His hands grappled blindly forward, clinging to the front of Mingyu’s hoodie and fingers curling tight into the fabric, trembling. 

Pulling Mingyu close, he buried his face into Mingyu’s chest, holding onto Mingyu as if he might disappear if he let go. 

Mingyu didn’t speak anymore and wrapped his arms gently around Wonwoo’s back, letting him choose how close to be; with one hand resting gently between Wonwoo’s shoulder blades, moving in slow, grounding circles. 

Mingyu looked around and saw how Hoshi and Chan were huddling close in a corner, waiting anxiously for Wonwoo to calm down, while Jeonghan stood by the door, holding the doorknob tightly, as if to ensure that no one was going to barge in. Jihoon? Clutching his phone tightly while staring at Mingyu and Wonwoo. 

They said nothing, because right now, Wonwoo wasn’t ready for words. He just needed this quietness, a stillness that didn’t hurt or threaten. 

Staying pressed into Mingyu’s hoodie, Wonwoo’s breath was shaky against the fabric. All he could hear right now was the low hum of Mingyu’s heartbeat and feel the warmth of his arms that didn’t feel like a trap. 

And without asking, 

“He always does that, grabbing onto my collar whenever he is angry.” 

His voice was soft, muffled but everyone heard it. 

Mingyu stayed completely still, as if afraid any movement would close the gates that Wonwoo had barely opened. 

“I… I used to count my steps. From the kitchen to the living room. From the living room to my door. I would always pray that the doors wouldn’t open. But it always did.” 

The grip on the doorknob got even tighter. 

“It was always cold… even in summer. I would sit by the window when they left, just to feel the sun, even if it’s for a little while.” 

Clutching onto Mingyu’s hoodie tighter, it helped him to stay rooted in the present. 

“He always said that I had ruined his life. That I should be glad that they took me in after my parents left. That I had to earn my place.”

Wonwoo swallowed hard. 

“But no matter how hard I’ve tried, it was never enough. I didn’t know what I did wrong most of the time, but he was angry. Always angry.” 

He paused and in that moment, someone shuffled closer. 

It was Jihoon who moved first this time, slowly. Sitting cross-legged in front of Wonwoo, he laid his hand on Wonwoo’s leg. Then came Hoshi and Chan, who sat in front of Wonwoo, sitting beside Wonwoo, waiting patiently. Then Jeonghan, who brought a bottle of water, placed it within arm’s reach. 

Sitting in a circle, they promised to shield Wonwoo from all the negativities in his life. 

And as Wonwoo finally looked up, with his reddened eyes, cheeks still bearing the faint echo of the slap - he saw it. 

No pity, no judgement, but pure care. 

“You’re here, all of you.” 

“Yes, we are here, all of us.” 

Leaning onto Mingyu’s chest, Wonwoo finally decided to let his guard down and be embraced fully by the warmth of Mingyu and the rest. “I think I’m safe, with them around.” Wonwoo thought to himself. 

The game night eventually got called off, and was replaced with a night of care and love by everyone. Wonwoo slept fidgety through the night, but in every terror and nightmare, there’s always Mingyu by his side, holding him tightly and humming a low tune to ward off everything. 

//

The next few days were like a dream for Wonwoo - the boys, especially Mingyu, stayed with him, as if guarding him from all the dangers in the world. Wherever Wonwoo goes, Mingyu is there to follow. And if Mingyu is busy? One of the boys will be accompanying him till he is back in the dorm. 

“Why are you guys always around?” Wonwoo asked, while snuggling on the sofa. 

“Because we want to,” Sitting on the floor with his back leaning on the sofa, Mingyu looked back and replied with a smile. 

“Don’t overthink, Wonu ya. We’re around because we love you.” Jeonghan came out of the kitchen and placed a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulders. 

“Aren’t you guys curious about my past?” Pulling the blanket nearer to his chest, Wonwoo lay deeper into the sofa. 

“Unless you’re ready to share, hyung.” Chan looked up from the book that he was reading. 

“Yeah, we don’t want to force you into anything uncomfortable.” Hoshi sat beside Wonwoo on the sofa and looked at him earnestly. 

Jihoon mimicked Wonwoo’s posture on the floor, which earned a laugh from Wonwoo. “I think after all these, it’s fair for you guys to know, so that you won’t be shocked in the future.” 

Listening to whatever they had said had made something in Wonwoo’s chest tighten - not with pain, but with the realisation that he was tired of hiding pieces of himself from the very people who had already seen him at his most broken state. 

He got off the sofa and plopped himself beside Mingyu. Leaning onto Mingyu’s shoulder, he felt Mingyu go tense and caught the boys giggling at the sight of the pair. 

“My parents left when I was five. I had no idea why and how and my uncle and auntie did not utter a word about their departure. Up till now, I don’t even know if they were dead or alive. They took me in, just because by law - that my uncle is my dad’s brother.” Wonwoo started pulling on the sleeves of his hoodie, while the others listened quietly. 

“I grew up being a servant in that household. I need to settle their meals, wash their clothes, clean the house - anything and everything. By thirteen, I was already working odd jobs just to bring money to the table.” Mingyu’s fingers found Wonwoo’s and somehow, they got intertwined while the others were simmering in anger. 

“I grew to learn that crying doesn’t solve a problem but would cost me a beating. Anything that I did or didn’t do would cause me to have punishments. No breakfast? I will get caned. Not enough water in the jug? I will get slapped. Walking too loudly? I will get whacked.” Wonwoo sat up straight and started pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie, revealing the wounds from the past. 

The left sleeve came up slowly, with the fabric brushing against his skin. Thin white lines rain in chaotic patterns across his forearm - some old and faded, others newer, raised against his skin. The right sleeve was followed by jagged scars, as if from broken glass or sharp metal. Both arms have faint brownish patches spread across the sides of the arms, burn marks that never quite healed evenly. Near his wrist, there’s also a deep, warped scar curled like an old wound that had split open too many times. 

No one spoke at first. The silence wasn’t awkward but it was stunned. The kind where your chest feels too tight to form any words. 

“I…” Wonwoo’s voice cut through it, soft but steady. “I used to think that if I kept my arms covered, I could protect myself from anything. But it didn’t.”

Pulling the sleeves down, he stood up and walked over to his bed and reached beneath his pillow. When he pulled his hand back, the boys gasped. 

“Hyung!” Chan shouted, thinking his favourite hyung would be doing something silly. 

“I’ve kept this with me since I was thirteen,” Wonwoo said, holding the pocket knife in his palm like an amulet. “It was the only thing that made me feel safe, that made me sleep at night. Just in case… someone tried to come in again.” 

“Wonwoo ya,” Mingyu walked up to Wonwoo and gave him a tight hug. “You’ve been sleeping with this all the time?” He asked, his voice cracking somewhere between disbelief and heartbreak. 

“I mean… It’s just a way for me to protect myself.” Wonwoo gave a nod that Mingyu almost missed. 

“You… went through all of that, as a kid?” Jihoon’s eyes softened instantly, with his knuckles clenching in silent frustration. 

Wonwoo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch, letting them see. 

 “You shouldn’t have had to…” Jeonghan swallowed hard, leaning closer with careful steps.

“Hyung…” Chan’s eyes were welling up with tears, thinking of what to say. 

“Whoever did this… they don’t get to own you anymore!” Hoshi let out a slow breath, his jaw tight. 

“You don’t have to hide this anymore,” Mingyu murmured, voice low enough that only Wonwoo could hear. Taking a step back from him, Mingyu gently placed his hand over Wonwoo’s forearm, as if shielding him from the world. 

Wonwoo looked at each of them, their faces etched with pain and protection. Something inside him broke, like a lock finally turning open. “These… they are a part of me,” he said softly, his voice trembling but clear. “And… I want you guys to know.” 

Mingyu’s thumb brushed over Wonwoo’s skin once more, grounding him. The others leaned in - not to crowd him, but to surround him with a shield only they could make. All the while, Mingyu’s gaze didn’t leave Wonwoo. His jaw tightened, not in anger but in quiet determination. 

And for the first time, Wonwoo didn’t feel the urge to cover up. 

// 

That night, when everyone left, it seemed to bring away some levels of stress from Wonwoo. Sitting on the edge of his bed with his pocket knife in his hand, Wonwoo gripped it so tightly that it felt like someone would be barging in if he let it go. 

Mingyu lingered near the door for a moment, then crossed the room and plopped onto the floor in front of Wonwoo. 

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asked softly, with his tone coated with nothing but worries. 

“I don’t know…” Wonwoo shrugged his shoulders. “But I know I can trust you guys, especially you.” Looking up, Wonwoo stared straight into Mingyu’s eyes. 

“After everything you’ve seen and heard, do you still…” Wonwoo trailed off, fingers tightening even tighter around the knife. “Do you still want to stay?” 

Mingyu didn’t answer right. Instead, he reached out, letting his hand hover until Wonwoo gave a tiny nod. He then took the knife gently from him, setting it on the desk before curling his fingers lightly around Wonwoo’s wrists. 

“Stay?” Mingyu’s voice dropped lower. “Wonwoo, I’m not here because it’s easy. I’m here because it’s you. The scars, the nightmares, the way you flinch sometimes - they are a part of your story, not everything. And I want all of it.” 

“What…” Wonwoo’s breath hitched, eyes darting away as if the words were too much to hold. “You said these now, but…” 

“I’ll say it tomorrow, and the day after and the following days.” Mingyu’s grip on his wrists tightened, just enough to anchor him. “You can push me away however many times you want, and I’ll still be here when you’re ready to pull me back.” 

“You’ll… be here?” Something inside Wonwoo gave in, not in defeat but in quiet surrender. 

Mingyu gave a firm nod and stood up to sit beside Wonwoo on his bed. Wonwoo didn’t cry, didn’t speak but leaned forward until his forehead rested against Mingyu’s chest while Mingyu stroked Wonwoo’s back in gentle circles. 

Time passed and Wonwoo didn’t move for a long while, just gripping onto Mingyu’s hoodie. The steady thud of Mingyu’s heartbeat was beginning to calm him down and pull him back from his worst spirals. 

“You’re still shaking,” Mingyu murmured, hugging Wonwoo even tighter. 

“I don’t…” Wonwoo gave a short, humourless laugh. “I don’t even know now if I’m shaking because of the incident, or you…” 

“Me?” Mingyu’s hand froze on Wonwoo’s back, and it made Wonwoo giggle. 

“Not… Not scared-scared,” Wonwoo said quickly, his words clumsy. “It’s just every time I started to trust someone, it backfired. Every time I thought, “they’ll stay”, they end up leaving. Started with my parents, then to my uncle and auntie, and to my cousins. And if I start thinking you’re different,” He shook his head, as if the thought alone was too dangerous. 

Mingyu didn’t move any closer but continued to stroke Wonwoo’s back. “Then don’t decide anything right now,” he said quietly. “Just let me prove it to you…” 

Wonwoo’s chest tightened. “Even after I tell you everything?” Wonwoo asked, his voice thin. “Even if you know all of it, witness all the negativities in my life - the burns, the scars, the ugly stuff in my head, you will continue to stay?” 

“I’m already here,” Mingyu said simply. “And I will continue till the day you don’t want me to.” 

Something inside Wonwoo cracked further, and he knew he could trust Mingyu wholeheartedly. But instead of answering, he turned his head deeper into Mingyu’s hoodie, hiding the flicker of hope on his face. 

Mingyu didn’t push - he let Wonwoo keep his defences, knowing that even allowing this much contact was a step. 

Both of them stayed in silence for a moment until Mingyu peered at the clock, realising how late it was. “I guess we should rest for the night?” Mingyu asked gently. 

“Mmm,” Wonwoo hummed. “You’ll still be around?” 

“Definitely,” Mingyu stood up and helped Wonwoo to lie on his bed. 

When Mingyu shifted to pull the blanket over him, Wonwoo instinctively tensed. His gaze darted towards the desk and the knife lying there, and his shoulders stiffened. 

“You don’t need it tonight,” Mingyu said. “I’ll be right here.” 

Wonwoo’s breath caught. His whole childhood had been built on the truth that no one stayed. And that no one else was able to protect him except himself. Letting go of that belief felt so scary to him. 

“If I…” He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to grab the knife and slip it under his pillow. “If I fall asleep, I might”

“Then I’ll be right here to wake you up,” Mingyu promised. “Before it gets bad.” 

The words lingered between them, heavy but unwavering. Wonwoo’s hand twitched once more in the knife’s direction but slowly, almost reluctantly, he lay back against his pillow. Mingyu sat on the floor beside Wonwoo’s bed, leaning an arm on the mattress so that Wonwoo could still feel him there. 

It wasn’t easy for Wonwoo. The constant protector for Wonwoo is no longer within his reach and it scares him. His eyes kept flicking to the desk, and his breath hitched whenever he looked at it. But Mingyu is always there - he has never moved. He had stayed and grounded him with low murmurs and brushing his own hands against Wonwoo’s occasionally. 

“You’re here,” Wonwoo muttered. 

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu answered, as a promise. 

Somewhere between vigilance and exhaustion, Wonwoo’s body betrayed him - his breathing evened out and his grip on the blanket slackened. For the first time in years, he drifted into sleep without his protector under his pillow. 

And when the nightmares came, they didn’t pull him under. A warm hand on his arm and a steady voice calling his name pulled him back every time. 

By morning, the knife was still on the desk, while Mingyu rested his head on Wonwoo’s bed and held onto Wonwoo’s hands, and both were sleeping soundly. 

I can trust you, can I? 

Chapter Text

The morning light crept in through the curtains, filling the room with warmth. Wonwoo stirred, his body half-tangled in the bedsheets. He reached out for the pocket knife under his pillow habitually, but felt nothing; panic rose for a split second. 

He was about to sit up when he felt a steady weight on his right hand. It was Mingyu’s hand, resting gently on his arm as he sat on the floor, with his head resting on Wonwoo’s bed. Wonwoo froze, blinking against the blur of sleep. Mingyu’s grip wasn’t tight and confining, but rather, it was steady - as if he were an anchor that kept him from drifting away. 

Mingyu was still deep asleep and his breathing was slow. At that moment, Wonwoo realised that Mingyu had become far more critical in his life than he had ever thought. 

“You’re still here, like you promised,” Wonwoo muttered, while smiling at Mingyu unconsciously. 

And that pocket knife? 

Still sitting on the desk beside his bed, untouched. 

// 

For Wonwoo, the realisation came in fragments, and the signs were subtle, but others noticed. 

—---------------

The cafeteria buzzed with the midday rush, with trays clattering, voices weaving into a low, constant hum. Wonwoo walked in with Hoshi, their shoulders brushing as they scanned for a table. The others had gone ahead, already somewhere in the crowd. 

Wonwoo’s eyes moved quickly, darting from table to table. He barely noticed the smell of the food or the voices around him. His gaze was searching with intent, and his body filled with tension as the time passed. Then it landed safely on Mingyu, where he’s seated with the rest, laughing at something one of them had said. Just then, Mingyu waved at the duo and shouted, “Wonwoo! Hoshi! Here!” 

Only then did Hoshi realise that Wonwoo’s shoulders had eased up and the tension in his frame had dissolved.

Hoshi, who had been watching closely, caught the way Wonwoo’s eyes softened the instant they found Mingyu. Letting a smile tug on his lips, he asked, “Finding Mingyu?” his tone was as casual as it could be as they made their way over. 

Wonwoo blinked, completely caught off guard and his ears reddened. “I… I guess,” he muttered, voice trembling but honest. His fingers gripped the hem of his shirt as he walked towards the group. 

“Mm, makes sense. You look calmer now,” Hoshi chuckled under his breath and ruffled Wonwoo’s hair as they reached the table. Wonwoo swatted Hoshi’s hand with a quiet grumble, but his face was burning red. 

By the time they reached the table, Mingyu had noticed and his gaze flicked to the pair, lingering a second too long on the faintly mussed strands of Wonwoo’s hair. “Mm? What’s wrong? Why are you touching Wonu hyung’s hair?” he asked, squinting his gaze at Hoshi. 

Hoshi laughed and shrugged his shoulders before sitting down beside Jihoon to have his lunch. The group, catching the shift in Mingyu’s tone, exchanged quick glances before one of them smirked. 

“Ooooooohhh, sounds like someone’s jealous,” Jeonghan teased. 

“Jealous? Of Hoshi hyung?” Chan added with a grin. “Mingyu hyung, please!” 

Mingyu’s ears tinged pink as he scowled at Jeonghan and Wonwoo ducked his head over his tray, but his lips tugged into the faintest smile. Nobody would say a thing if they had spotted it. Sitting silently beside Mingyu, he felt calm with his steady presence, as if gravity had pulled him closer. 

—-----------------
—-----------------

Searching for Mingyu has become a daily routine, be it consciously or subconsciously. It had become a habit that Wonwoo’s mind had woven without permission. But slowly, Mingyu has also become his anchor…

As always, they had just finished their lessons and were about to crash in Mingyu’s and Wonwoo’s dorm. Sneakers squeaked against the floor with their backpacks swung loose against their tired shoulders, but with laughter echoing down the corridor. 

Wonwoo stumbled slightly as he walked beside Mingyu. Feeling the stress from a full day of class, the exhaustion weighed him down with every movement. He rubbed his eyes, futilely attempting to shake off the heaviness in his eyelids. 

Then suddenly, a loud crash filled the entire corridor. The emergency door had slammed hard against the wall, the sound violent and jarring, making Wonwoo feel like the past. Wonwoo froze, and so did Mingyu. The rest of the boys stopped and turned to look at the duo. 

“Wonwoo ya, are you okay?” Jihoon asked and met with silence. 

Instinct dragged Wonwoo back to the wall, and without realising, his hand shot out and fingers clutched onto Mingyu’s hoodie, pulling Mingyu closer to him, burying his face into Mingyu’s chest. “I’m sorry, I 'm sorry, I’m sorry!” 

“It’s okay, Wonu” Mingyu looked at Wonwoo with steady eyes and tightened the hug. “It’s just the door, nothing else. You’re here with me, with us. You’re not back there, look at me.” His hands stroked the back of Wonwoo’s head while reassuring him in his low and husky voice. 

The sound of Mingyu’s voice cut through the fog and the warmth of his grip steadied the panic. Few minutes passed and Wonwoo blinked, looking up at Mingyu. 

“Mingyu…” 

“Yeah, I’m here. We’re all here too. Come, let’s go back to our dorm.” Mingyu patted Wonwoo’s back and held onto his shoulder before continuing walking back to the dorm. 

Standing at the back, Chan froze, watching the small and desperate gesture of Mingyu leaning closer without hesitation. Something in the air shifted, with softness and warm feelings embracing everyone. 

“Seems like Wonwoo hyung knows who to look for when he needs someone,” Chan mumbled. 

“And Mingyu is always there,” Jihoon smiled. 

“And that’s a great big improvement for him. That calls for a celebration tonight!” Jeonghan ruffled Chan’s hair before walking to the dorm. 

“YAY PIZZA AND CHICKEN!” Hoshi shouted before Jihoon glared at him and Hoshi covered his mouth. 

—-----------------
—-----------------

Everything seemed to be going so well for the next few months. In fact, it has been too smooth till the point where Wonwoo had completely forgotten about the previous episode of his uncle’s sudden appearance in his dorm, because Mingyu has always been his anchor. The pocket knife has been kept in the bedside drawer and he had never once thought of it because Mingyu kept showing him that he’s always there, even when he’s having nightmares. 

Maybe it’s a little too peaceful that he thought nothing would go wrong… That he thought he could finally embrace trust and love confidently… 

// 

The lecture had ended later than usual and sleepiness was hanging on their faces as they left the lecture theatre. The group was laughing faintly at the thought of the game night and Mingyu’s arms slung casually around Wonwoo’s shoulder as they walked down the corridor. For a moment, Wonwoo allowed himself to lean into the warmth and comfort of Mingyu. 

But Wonwoo’s smile never quite reached his eyes. Because the moment they stepped into the main hallway, Wonwoo felt it. He felt a familiar prickle at the base of his neck. That old instinct, sharpened over years of surviving, was telling him that he was being watched by someone. His chest tightened, and for a split second, he thought of his pocketknife, which he had left in the bedside drawer. 

“Breathe, you’re safe here,” He thought to himself, over and over again; although the uneasiness still clung to him like a shadow. 

Just then, their lecturer appeared from her office, flustered, carrying boxes of documents. 

“Hey boys. Could you help me shift these boxes of books to level three?” Jihoon immediately moved forward to catch the falling box. “I still have more in the office”. 

“Oh oh, sure sure.” The rest of the boys responded immediately and moved forward to help the lecturer. 

All except Wonwoo. His steps faltered and his vision was hazy at the edges. The prickling sensation at the back of his neck had evolved into a cold dread. 

Mingyu felt it instantly and tugged Wonwoo back gently, with his hand still firm on Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You okay? You don’t look …” Mingyu whispered. 

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo cut in too fast, forcing his voice to be steady. Feeling Mingyu’s eyes on him, he clenched his fist tightly, not letting himself crumble. 

“You don’t look fine…” Mingyu pressed on, his brows furrowed. “The boys can help; we can walk back to the dorm together.” 

“It’s okay, I’ll wait here,” Wonwoo said again, softer this time and forcing a faint smile that didn’t touch the tension in his jaw. “Go help. She needs you guys.” 

His fingers curled tight around the strap of his bags, knuckles whitening, like he was holding himself together with that grip alone. 

Mingyu hesitated, his gaze darting between Wonwoo and the professor. His body screamed to stay but Wonwoo nudged him, reassuring him in the smallest gesture. “I’ll be here when you’re done. Don’t worry. Go and help the rest, they’re struggling.” Wonwoo giggled. 

“YA! KIM MINGYU!” Hoshi shouted from the office while holding two boxes. 

“COMING!” Mingyu answered. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.” Patting Wonwoo’s head, Mingyu reluctantly let go of Wonwoo and ran into the office before Hoshi came after him again. 

Forcing a smile, Wonwoo watched him disappear into the office, and then silence came after. Heavy, suffocating silence engulfed him, even though there were other students walking by. Wonwoo stood rooted to the spot, looking in the direction where the boys had gone. The prickling on his neck grew sharp - the kind of sharp that he hadn’t felt in a while, the kind that always came just before any pain. He tried telling himself that he was just feeling paranoid, that he was safe. 

But the air itself felt wrong. Every sound seemed magnified - the buzz of the lights above, the faint ticking of a clock down the hall, the murmurs from everyone walking down the hallway. His skin prickled at each sound and his fingers twitched - remembering the scars hidden beneath his sleeve and the pain that follows. 

Taking a deep breath, he was about to walk towards the dorm when he heard the sounds of footsteps from the stairwell beside him. His throat tightened, and he turned his head towards the stairwell, but he saw nothing. He tried to convince himself that it could be just another student or a staff member. 

But the sound of the footsteps sounds too familiar to be mistaken. He froze, every instinct screaming at him to move, to run, to shout. 

And then he heard it: 

“Jeon Wonwoo.” 

The voice - the same low voice that made his blood in his veins run cold. His chest constricted. His breath shortened, shallow and shaky. When he finally forced his eyes towards the stairwell again, a figure emerged from the shadows. The figure with broad shoulders, smelling like cigarettes and alcohol, the face he knew too well - his uncle. His uncle’s shadow now stretched across the hallway, creeping closer as he walked towards  Wonwoo. The moment his uncle’s voice cut through the hallway, Wonwoo’s whole body locked, as if there were invisible chains snapping tight across his chest, arms and legs. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. All he wants is for Mingyu to be back, right now. 

But Mingyu was gone. The boys were gone, and no one was there to pull him back to reality. Wonwoo’s vision blurred at the edges, his ears rang with a thin, high-pitched whine, drowning out everything except the thundering of his own pulse. 

“You thought you could hide from me, huh?” His uncle’s voice dropped lower and darker, slicing through the ringing in his ears. 

Wonwoo flinched, hard. His knees nearly buckled. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. For a heartbeat, he thought he might collapse entirely. His body was trembling so violently that it felt like his bones were trying to shake themselves free. 

And then, his uncle moved again. Heavy steps, closer. Always closer to Wonwoo. 

The air in Wonwoo’s lungs turned razor sharp. He pressed a hand against the wall, trying to anchor himself. But the wall was cold and rough, scraping against his skin. It didn’t feel real enough. 

“Mingyu”, Wonwoo muttered. “Where are you? Come back quick.” 

His chest caved with the thought and the terrifying realisation that, for one, no one was coming to pull him out. 

This time, he was

Alone. 

//

People walked past, not knowing what was going on in Wonwoo’s head. Just a weird man standing by the wall, frozen. 

Before Wonwoo could react, a fist clamped around Wonwoo’s collar so suddenly that it wrenched the breath from his lungs. “Uhh,” Wonwoo grunted. 

His uncle’s knuckles dug hard against his throat, hauling him half off the ground until his toes barely scraped the floor. And it made Wonwoo feel small - he wasn’t twenty anymore, but five? Six? Nine again? Fragile, dangling from that same grip that once tossed him like a rag doll. 

“Still trembling like a rat,” the uncle sneered, his breath hot with stale tobacco as it hit Wonwoo’s cheek. “You think that shirt hides anything?” 

His free hand jerked at Wonwoo’s sleeves, shoving them up roughly past his elbow. “Pathetic, look at you. Still carrying my marks. Still mine. Just like how you used to be.” 

Wonwoo’s stomach dropped. A wave of nausea surged as if his body was rejecting the words, the touch and everything. His chest heaved, shallow and desperate, but no sound came out. Yet he heard all the slow murmurings from the people walking past. 

The hallway seemed to shrink, walls pressing closer, suffocating him in shame. Footsteps slowed, whispers swelled. Students passing by had stopped and their voices made a low current of unease. They stood around, eyes darting between Wonwoo and the towering man gripping him by the collar. 

“Hey! What are you doing?!” A brave soul stood out, trying to help. 

“What am I doing? Hahaha, look at this pathetic soul who doesn’t know where he should be.” The man gripped Wonwoo’s throat even tighter, causing Wonwoo’s face to turn pale and tears to stream down his cheeks. 

“See all these scars? This is what you got for not being obedient, young man.” Using his free hands, the disgusting old man stroked the scars imprinted onto Wonwoo’s arms. “You wear them like a badge, like you belong to me. You’ll never be able to get rid of me. And you’ll be with me, forever.” 

Forever

Wonwoo’s throat burned. The shame was unbearable, suffocating. He wanted to rip away, to hide, to vanish. But his body was frozen, trembling so hard that his knees threatened to give away. 

“Don’t let him fool you with this quiet act - he’s weak. Always is.” His uncle barked suddenly. Yanking Wonwoo’s sleeve higher so that the scars were in plain sight for everyone to see. Everyone gasped and the crowd murmured loudly, tension rippling like static in the air. Even the brave soul who stepped up was stunned. 

“Pathetic loser,” his uncle spat, pushing his scarred arm forward so the onlookers couldn’t miss it. “Did he tell you guys stories? Making himself a victim? He was nothing but trouble since he was a kid. That’s why he had to be taught lessons the hard way.” 

The word sliced deeper than the grip on Wonwoo’s collar. Every syllable dragged Wonwoo backwards into the nights of pain, the smell of alcohol, the sting of belts and burns. 

“See? He can’t even stand on his own,” the uncle sneered while shaking Wonwoo by the collar. “Always shaking, always hiding. You’ll never escape me, understand?” 

Wonwoo’s knees buckled, barely keeping him upright. His vision blurred, blending all the lights and faces into a dizzying haze. The sound of the crowd, the cruel voice of his uncle, his own heartbeat pressed down on him till he felt he was being buried alive.

His nails scraped desperately at the uncle’s sleeves - his instinctive plea for release. But the said uncle only leaned closer and whispered, “You thought you could live without me? Fool. Even now, you’re nothing without my shadow.” His voice was low, threatening, and meant only for Wonwoo. 

The grip tightened around Wonwoo’s collar once more, with rage twisting the uncle’s features. The murmurs of the crowd seemed to fuel him as he started shouting, “Do you think all these people will save you? You think anyone really cares about you?” 

Shoving Wonwoo back a step with every word he said, forcing him dangerously close to the edge of the stairs. 

“Pathetic boy, as always...” The uncle spat. 

“What… What did I do to deserve this?” Wonwoo trembled. 

“You and your useless parents are the cause of this-” 

Before he could finish, he hurled Wonwoo with a vicious push and the world tilted beneath Wonwoo’s feet as his body lurched backwards. His hand shot out, trying to grab anything but his fingers only managed to scrape at the empty air. His stomach dropped, terror clawing at his throat. 

And then, gravity claimed him. 

The first step cracked against his shoulder. The second against his hip and lastly, against his head. His body tumbled helplessly as pain exploded with each sickening thud. Even so, he caught one last look at the man standing above: no fear, no panic, no regret. Only that familiar, merciless glare. Anger sharpened every line of his face and disgust curled his lips. It wasn’t the look of someone who had lost control but the look of someone who meant to hurt. 

By the time he reached the bottom, the pain wasn’t only in his limbs or ribs; it burned in his chest with a raw ache whispering the same line he had heard since childhood: You are nothing. You will always be nothing. 

It rang in his head, repeatedly until - 

“WONWOO!” 

The desperate cry tore through the chaos sharp enough to pierce the ringing murmur in his head. 

At the top of the stairs, Mingyu appeared breathless, his face stricken with horror. Behind him, Jeonghan, Jihoon, Hoshi and Chan skidded to a halt. They had been running, hearts pounding, after a fellow classmate found them at level three, shouting, “QUICK! Someone is hurting Wonwoo! Level 1, hurry!!” 

But they were too late to stop the shove. They arrived just in time to see Wonwoo’s body tumbling down the final steps, crashing to the floor below with a sickening impact. The hallway erupted with screams, gasps and footsteps scrambling to and fro. Some students covered their mouths while others froze. 

Mingyu bolted down the stairs, two steps at a time, while the other followed close behind. “Wonwoo! Wonu, stay with me!!” Mingyu’s voice cracked as he dropped to his knees beside the crumpled figure. Wonwoo lay half-turned, his face pale, lips trembling, left arm twisted unnaturally, blood trickling down the cut on his forehead. His sleeve had ridden up, scars old and new stark under the harsh hallway light. 

“Min…” The sound was faint, a whisper barely made it out of Wonwoo. 

“I’m here, I’m right here,” Mingyu said quickly, hands hovering as though afraid that touching would break him further. His eyes burned, fury and terror clashing in his chest. He turned briefly, shouting, “Call the ambulance. Now!!” 

“They are coming!” Someone shouted from the crowd and Jeonghan turned around to nod his head. 

Above them, the uncle stood with no remorse on his face. “You won’t be able to escape from me!” He shouted across. 

“Omg, what’s wrong with him?” 

“He literally shoved him down the stairs!” 

“Call the police!”

“Is he even the uncle?”

The murmurs turned into an angry uproar as the crowd closed in, faces sharp with disgust. 

“Get away from me!” the uncle barked. “He deserves this!” His hands twitched as if wanting to storm down the stars towards Wonwoo again. But the crowd shifted, bodies forming a wall between them. 

“Stay awake, Wonwoo. Stay awake. Look at me,” At the same time, Mingyu desperately wanted to keep Wonwoo conscious. He caressed Wonwoo’s right arm, his touch careful. 

“Min, don’t go… don’t… leave me like them.” Wonwoo’s voice slurred with pain; every word was a struggle. 

“I won’t.. I’m right here.” Mingyu squeezed Wonwoo’s right fingers, grounding him. 

Chan and Jeonghan, although pale with shock, knelt beside Wonwoo and applied pressure for the blood to stop. 

Hoshi, his fists trembling, wanted to charge towards the uncle. “How dare you…” He wanted to sprint up the stairs, but Jihoon caught him by the arm, holding him back with visible effort. 

“Not here, Hoshi,” Jihoon hissed, though his jaw was tight, his eyes blazing. “Let security handle him. We need to focus on Wonwoo.” 

The uncle didn’t bat an eyelid, although the others crowded him. “He deserved it anyway! Always acting like a victim, always trying -” 

The words earned a collective gasp. One girl shouted, “Omg STOP!” 

Another person snapped, “He’s injured and you’re still talking like that!” 

The sound of running footsteps broke through the chaos; campus security and staff members were pushing through the crowd. Some of the security personnel swiftly came around the uncle and blocked his exit, while the rest ran towards Wonwoo and the group. 

“Don’t worry, help is coming! We’ve heard what happened from the students outside. Don’t worry,” One of the staff commented while directing others to clear a path for the paramedics. 

Mingyu barely looked. He continued to hold onto Wonwoo’s hands, proving that he’s still around. “Help’s coming. You heard me? Focus on me, okay? Don’t close your eyes.” 

Wonwoo’s lips trembled and his gaze clouded with pain, staying fixed on Mingyu as if anchoring himself there. 

The sudden shrill cry of the ambulance sirens cut through the tense air minutes later. Paramedics rushed in with a stretcher and the crowd parted instantly. “Clear a path, please!” One of them called, voice sharp and efficient. 

Wonwoo tried to struggle at the sight of the stretcher, the buckles, the straps and the gloves. They all felt like another trap closing in on him. 

“It’s okay, Wonwoo. I’m here with you. Let them help you. I’ll be here.” Mingyu saw how fearful Wonwoo was and reassured him. 

Wonwoo’s eyes darted, glassy with pain, but when they finally landed on Mingyu, something in him steadied. He gripped Mingyu’s hands with his trembling fingers and whined. 

The paramedics moved with practised speed, sliding the stretcher beside him. “On three,” one said and together they lifted. Wonwoo winced and a choked cry escaped. “Min…” His grip tightened on Mingyu as though afraid he would be left behind. Mingyu leaned over the stretcher, walking in stride as they buckled Wonwoo in. “I’m coming with you, all the way,” Mingyu whispered, so only Wonwoo could hear. The straps clicked into place, snug and unyielding, and for a moment, Wonwoo felt caged again. But then Mingyu’s fingers laced firmly through his, becoming an anchor in the storm. 

As the stretcher rolled towards the ambulance, Mingyu climbed into the ambulance, eyes never leaving Wonwoo’s pale face. “I’m going with him,” the medics gave him a quick nod, recognising the panic etched on his face. 

“We will be heading to Aster Hospital.” The paramedic shouted towards the rest of the boys and slammed the doors shut. The sirens wailed to life before rolling down the streets. 

The moment the ambulance pulled away, the crowd turned back to the uncle. Security had him restrained and his arms pinned behind his back as he cursed and shouted. 

“He deserved it!” The uncle roared, spittle flying. “You don’t know what he’s like - he’s pretending!!!” 

“Deserved it?! Pretending?!” Hoshi’s voice cracked with fury, his whole body shaking as Jihoon and Chan held him back. “You almost killed him!” 

Jeonghan, still pale and trembling, muttered hoarsely. “The way Wonwoo looked… this wasn’t random.” His eyes flicked to the uncle with disgust. “He came to Wonwoo’s dorm before and gave Wonwoo a scare, too, Prof.” 

The crowd gasped, and the security tightened his grip on the uncle’s arms. “The police are on their way. He doesn’t get to set foot on this campus again.” The restrained man tried to struggle, but upon knowing that the police were arriving, there was no power left in his actions and words. 

“Please help Wonwoo, Prof. He doesn’t deserve all this,” Chan muttered, with tears welling up. 

“Don’t worry. We will help as much as we can. Go to Wonwoo now.” The professor promised the boys and went on to disperse the crowd while ensuring that the uncle was still in custody. 

“Thanks, Prof, we will be heading to the hospital now.” Jeonghan turned to the professor before running towards his car with the rest of the boys. 

//

In the ambulance, the sirens screamed, drowning out every thought but fear. Mingyu sat squeezed into the narrow space, knees pressed against the stretcher as the paramedics worked quickly around him. 

“Head trauma, possible fractures - stabilise him!” one of them called. 

Wonwoo stirred, his face pale as chalk, and his breath shallow. “It hurts… hurt so much…” he whispered, voice barely audible beneath the roar of the engine. 

“You’ll be fine. They are helping you now, I’m here too.” Mingyu said, tears blurring his vision, but his voice was steady. “You’re safe, breathe with me. Don’t let go.” He pressed their joined hands to Wonwoo’s chest, as if willing his own heartbeat to anchor Wonwoo’s faltering strength. 

Wonwoo’s eyes flickered half-shut. But every time they drooped, Mingyu leaned closer, his voice urgent but soft. “Stay with me, Wonwoo. Look at me, just me.” 

“Keep talking to him. It helps,” the medic beside them glanced at Mingyu and nodded. 

Mingyu did. He whispered everything and anything - memories from game nights, the taste of the cafeteria’s food, their planned vacations. “You’re not alone. I’m here.” Wonwoo’s lips trembled, his hand squeezing back faintly.

And it was enough to keep Mingyu breathing, enough to keep him from falling apart… at first…

Then it happened. The monitor gave a sharp alarm and suddenly slowed and flattened. “Heart rate dropping!” one paramedic barked, immediately pressing two fingers against Wonwoo’s neck. “Patient’s crashing! Get me another line in!” 

Another paramedic worked fast, adjusting the IV, while the first checked his airway. “Pulse weak but present. Stay with us, kid. Stay with us.” He urged. 

The siren blasted even louder through the skies as it sped down the highway while Mingyu leaned closer to Wonwoo, shouting, “Wonwoo! Stay with me, please! Look at me!!! Open your eyes!!!” 

Fear crawled up Mingyu’s spine like ice. His grip tightened on Wonwoo’s limp hand, thumb brushing over his bruised knuckles. He wanted to scream, to do something, but all he could do was watch as the professionals fought to bring Wonwoo back. His mind raced with all sorts of thoughts - both positive and negative - and all he could do was to shout for Wonwoo, hoping that he would open his eyes to look at him. 

“Stabilising, heart rate’s climbing-” the paramedic announced after tense seconds that stretched like hours. The machine began to beep a little faster and steadier. Relief rippled through the confined space, but the paramedic’s voice stayed firm. “He’s critical, we've got to move fast.” 

Mingyu’s throat burned, tears stinging in his eyes. “I’m here, you hear me? I’m here. Come back to me, I’m waiting.” Brushing the back of Wonwoo’s hand, Mingyu muttered earnestly. 

God knows how long they’ve been in the ambulance when suddenly, it stopped abruptly and the doors opened hastily. The ambulance doors swung open with a metallic clang and the paramedics moved with practised urgency. The stretcher wheels clattered against the ramp as they guided Wonwoo down, with his body strapped carefully in place. 

“Male, early twenties,” one paramedic called out, projecting over the chaos, “fell down a flight of stairs, sustained multiple contusions, possible rib and arm fractures, head trauma. Heart rate crashed en route - stabilised with IV and oxygen. Still critical, responsive only to touch!” 

The stretcher rattled against the hospital floor as the team rushed him towards A&E. The nurses nodded briskly, already moving in sync. One clipped a monitor onto Wonwoo’s finger while the other checked his pupils with a penlight, murmuring updates under her breath. 

“Prep trauma bay two,” one nurse shouted, and the doors at the far end of the corridor banged open. Mingyu tried to follow right into the room, but a nurse blocked him with a firm hand on his chest. “Sir, you need to wait outside…”

“I promised him,” Mingyu choked, gripping Wonwoo’s limp hand tighter. “Please…”

“Stay by the side, let us do our job to get him back.” The nurse’s eyes softened at Mingyu’s words, and she pushed the stretcher forward. 

Fear caught onto Mingyu once again as he watched the team wheel Wonwoo through the swinging doors into trauma. “Wonwoo… please,” his heart hammered in sync with the beeping monitors that are now taking over Wonwoo’s fragile breaths. 

The swinging door swallowed Wonwoo, leaving Mingyu stranded in the fluorescent-lit corridor. His legs felt like lead, and his hands still tingling with the memory of Wonwoo’s fading grip. For the first time, the reality of almost losing him slammed into his chest, sharp and merciless. 

“Whoever is listening, please help Wonwoo to overcome this hurdle, please…” Mingyu prayed silently as he dropped into one of the stiff plastic chairs, elbows on his knees and fingers buried in his hair. The sirens from the ambulance still rang in his ears, mixing with the echo of the paramedic’s words: heart rate dropping… crashing…

“Mingyu!” Jeonghan’s voice pierced through the roaring of the siren in Mingyu’s head. “Where is Wonwoo! How is he?!” He plopped right beside Mingyu while Hoshi, Chan and Jihoon stood in front of the duo. 

Mingyu looked up, eyes blazing with barely contained fear and hands trembling. “They took him in. He… he almost…” His voice broke, and he swallowed hard, forcing the words out. Chan saw how his hands were shivering and squatted down to hold onto Mingyu’s hands. “His heart… stopped in the ambulance. They… they managed to get him back but he… he’s still not okay…” 

“Hyung…” Chan held his hands even tighter. 

“You didn’t see him. He looked so… so small… Like he had already given up.” Mingyu shook his head, the haunted image of Wonwoo’s pale face refusing to let him go. His voice quavering and tears were streaming down his cheeks. “If I hadn’t…” He continued, his throat tightening, “If I hadn’t held on…” 

“No!” Jeonghan gripped his shoulders. “Don’t do that to yourself. You didn’t fail him. You stayed. That’s what matters. And when he wakes up, he’s gonna see you, just like always.” 

“Yes, Mingyu ah,” Jihoon crouched in front of Mingyu. “What matters most is that you were with him. He saw how you care for him” 

“Mingyu ah, you need to be strong for Wonwoo,” Hoshi patted Mingyu’s head, hands ruffling through his hair. “He needs you, and he needs you by his side.”

Mingyu’s chest heaved as their words pressed against the storm raging inside him, and he dropped his head back down. He didn’t respond but he didn’t shake them off either. 

“That man! What about him now?!” Mingyu growled while staring at the floor. His muscles tensed, and he clenched his teeth. 

“Prof called me earlier to say that the police had already brought him to the police station. That man will be in custody since they had much evidence from the crowd earlier and the CCTV at the staircase. Once Wonwoo gets clearance from the doctor, they will also interview him.” Jeonghan replied firmly, albeit with anger in his tone. 

Mingyu nodded, and the rest sat in silence. For the next hour or so, some were pacing up and down, some fidgeting, but all watched the trauma doors like hawks. Every time nurses walked past, their heads snapped up, hope and dread colliding in their eyes. 

The hospital air was too sterile, too bright and every second stretching longer than it should.

Come back to me, Wonwoo.
I’m here, waiting.  

Chapter Text

Not sure how long they have waited, the trauma doors finally opened with a slow and deliberate swing. The surgeon stepped out with his mask pulled down, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. The boys shot to their feet instantly, hearts lodged in their throats. 

"Family for Jeon Wonwoo?" The surgeon called out, scanning their anxious faces. 

"Yes, yes!" Mingyu's voice cracked as he rushed forward, fists clenched at his sides. "How is he?! Is everything okay?! The others huddled close enough, shoulders touching one another. 

"He sustained multiple injuries from the fall - fractured ribs, dislocated shoulders, deep bruising. But the most serious complication…" The surgeon's tone dropped lower, more deliberate, with his eyes looking straight into Mingyu's. "The impact ruptured a small blood vessel in his brain. We managed to control the bleeding during surgery but the next 24hours are critical." 

"Critical…" Mingyu flinched and Jeonghan patted his back. “Does it mean… he… he might not…” His throat tightened around every word he spoke. 

"We've done everything we can for now," The surgeon said gently. "All we can do now is to monitor him closely and wait. If he makes it through the night without complications, his chances of recovery will improve significantly." 

Jihoon swore under his breath, fists trembling at his sides. Chan pressed a hand to his forehead, pacing a few steps before stopping abruptly. Hoshi took a deep breath to calm his frantic self before holding onto Mingyu. Jeonghan listened attentively to the surgeon, mentally remembering what the surgeon had said. 

Mingyu? 

He just stood frozen, his vision blurring. A thousand wild thoughts, positive or negative, were running wild in his mind and he couldn't decide which to focus on. All he knows is that there are 24 hours that Wonwoo might slip away, and he might lose him before he can say anything. 

The surgeon briefly placed a hand on Mingyu's shoulder, saying in a warm tone, "He's being moved to the ICU. One person to visit at a time." 

"Me… I'll go", Mingyu said instantly, his voice hoarse but unwavering. 

The rest didn't argue; they knew. They had seen it too. The way Wonwoo always reached out for Mingyu and the way Mingyu's eyes never left Wonwoo. Mingyu needed the moment with Wonwoo to calm his thoughts and to know that Wonwoo was still fighting. 

// 

The ICU doors slid open with a sterile hiss, and Mingyu stepped inside, his breath catching immediately. The sight before him nearly brought him to his knees. 

Wonwoo lay on the hospital bed, pale and still, and his body dwarfed by the maze of machines surrounding him. Tubes snaked from his arms, wires traced across his chest and the steady beep of the heart monitor echoed in the silent room. His head was wrapped in fresh bandages, with a small patch of dried blood staining the gauze near his temple. The last straw was an oxygen mask covering his face, fogging faintly with each shallow breath. 

Mingyu's breath hitched as he walked towards Wonwoo and his hands instinctively clenched into a fist. 

"This isn't Wonwoo," he thought. The Wonwoo that he knew is someone who would chuckle at the group's random jokes; who always sat a little apart yet never missed a beat. This Wonwoo that he saw right now wasn't the one who unconsciously reached for his hoodie in crowded halls, or who looked out for him at different parts of the day. 

This Wonwoo looked fragile. And the thought of him slipping away clenched something unbearably sharp in Mingyu's chest. He stepped closer, his trembling fingers brushing against Wonwoo's bandaged hands. It was cold, a little too cold. Mingyu swallowed hard, his voice breaking as he whispered, "I'm here, Wonu. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you but I'm here now. Come back to me soon, okay?" 

The monitor beeped on, steady but unchanging, and Mingyu let out a shaky breath, lowering himself onto the chair beside the bed. He couldn't stop staring, memorising every rise and fall of Wonwoo's chest, every fragile sign that reminded Mingyu that Wonwoo is still here. 

"You can't leave me. Not like this. Not when I still…" Mingyu's voice faltered, the unspoken words choking him. "Not when I haven't said anything. Please… just hold on. I'll stay here, no matter how long it takes. When you wake up, I'll be the first person you see." 

The machine continued its rhythm, a fragile lifeline between life and loss. And Mingyu sat there in the dim light, holding onto Wonwoo's hands, to ground both himself and Wonwoo. 

"Do you know how scared I was…" His eyes burned, refusing to blink. "When I saw you fall, when you hit the ground, I thought I was going to lose you right away. I… I can't get that sound out of my head. I can't forget how your body hit the stairs. It's like it's carved into me." 

His throat choked with emotions, tightening the grip on Wonwoo's hand, he pushed on with words spilling out like a dam finally breaking. 

"You've always tried carrying everything alone, tried to pretend you're fine. But now, I'm here, just like the past year. I'll always be here." Mingyu lowered his head, his forehead pressing gently against Wonwoo's hand. His tears dampened the bandages. 

"But I'm terrified," he whispered. "Terrified that when you wake up, you'll decide that you don't need me anymore. Or worse - that you won't wake up at all. I can't…" His voice cracked, raw with the kind of honesty he never dared show. "I can't lose you. Wonwoo ya, I can't… Not you, not when I found someone who makes me feel staying is worth it." 

He exhaled shakily, sitting up just enough to see Wonwoo's face again, pale beneath the mask. His thumb lingered at the edge of Wonwoo's bandage, almost as if he could smooth away the pain etched beneath. 

"I'll wait, no matter how long it takes. I'll be here, so please come back to me. Please… just come back to me. I… I need you…" Mingyu sat there, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths, refusing to let go of Wonwoo's hand, as though his grip alone could tether Wonwoo back to life immediately. 

Beep beep beep

Goes the sound in the yet silent room 

// 

The hallway outside the ICU was too bright, too sterile. The overhead lights hummed faintly, and the boys scattered on the long row of plastic chairs, their faces pale with exhaustion. None of them spoke for a long while but their minds ran wild with what the surgeon said earlier. 

Fractured ribs 

Dislocated shoulders
Small blood vessel ruptured…

In the brain 

Next 24 hours are critical 

"Everything… everything will be alright, right???" Chan asked, voice trembling and gripping his own hands. 

"I don't know… Chan ah. But I hope so." Jihoon patted Chan's head and wrapped his arm around Chan's body. 

Through that wide window, they could see everything. Wonwoo is lying still, wrapped in layers of bandages and wires. Mingyu, hunching forward, holding Wonwoo's hand as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

Hoshi leaned back against the chair, arms crossed tightly over his chest, clenching his jaw. He wanted to barge into the police station and hit that bastard uncle of Wonwoo but he knew he couldn't. 

Jeonghan sat with his elbows on his knees, hands tangled in his hair. His voice was low when he finally broke the silence. "He looks so small in there," His voice cracked in the middle. "Wonwoo… he never looked so small before. Not even when he was struggling, but now…" He bit down on the rest, his throat tightening. 

"He's been through so much already. Why does it have to be him again?" Chan leaned against Jihoon's chest, already tearing up at the thought of Wonwoo's situation. 

They all fell quiet again, their gazes drawn back to the glass. Mingyu still hadn't moved and his head bowed even lower, shoulders trembling faintly. 

"Look at Mingyu," Hoshi muttered. "He's breaking in there. But he won't leave. He would rather shatter himself than let go of Wonwoo's hand." 

"Let's hope that Wonwoo gets through this important period and he'll return to us soon." Jeonghan straightened himself, looking straight into the window and muttered. 

A heavy silence followed, each of them was drowning in their own helplessness, hearts aching with the sight of the two people in the room - one fighting for his life, the other fighting to hold him there. After an hour or so, the silence was cut by a sharp vibration. Jeonghan flinched and pulled his phone from his pocket. "Hey…" his voice cracked. 

"Is everything okay? I received a message saying something cropped up and you didn't reply to any of my messages?" Seungcheol's voice could be heard on the other end, laced with worry. "I went to your school but your professor told me you're in the hospital????"

"It's Wonwoo…" Jeonghan's chest constricted, his eyes flickering to the window and his voice breaking. "He… he's in the ICU." 

"What happened?!" 

"He got shoved by his uncle and he fell down the stairs, hitting his head. It's bad, Coups. The doctors said that the next 24 hours are critical." 

"Oh gosh. Wait for me, bub. I'll be there." The words lingered in the hallway even after Jeonghan lowered his phone slightly. For a moment, the boys stared at Jeonghan, their own helplessness reflected in his trembling form. 

Within the hour, the sound of quick footsteps broke the stagnant silence in the hallway.

"Bub," Jeonghan's head shot up, eyes widening as Seungcheol rushed towards them, still slightly breathless from hurrying across the city. Without hesitation, Seungcheol wrapped Jeonghan in a tight embrace. For a moment, Jeonghan crumpled against him, burying his face into his shoulder. The other boys looked on silently, a small relief threading through the tension in seeing someone who could hold Jeonghan together. 

"Tell me everything, bub." Seungcheol pulled back just enough to look at Jeonghan, his hand firm on Jeonghan's cheek. Looking at the rest of the boys, he continued, "You guys too. Tell me everything." 

"Remember that time you brought some food for me to a dorm?" Jeonghan wiped off the remaining tears on his cheek while leaning onto Seungcheol's shoulder. "Wonwoo went into a panic attack after some idiots decided to pop the party poppers and we realised that it came from home. The panic attacks, the flinches, the way he reacts to sudden noises, they all came from his childhood, which caused us to want to protect him even more." Jeonghan's voice croaked and Seungcheol patted his back. 

"He never said much in the beginning. In fact, he avoided us. We thought he didn't like us but then, gradually, he started letting us in. Enough that we could see how broken things were, how small he was." Jihoon continued. 

"His uncle, apparently, had been hurting him for years since he was young. We only found out because he finally trusted us enough to tell us, and after his uncle came barging into his dorm a few months back. He showed us the scars on his body, and he told us about the knife he kept under his pillow. It was like he had been preparing to survive, not live." Chan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor. 

"And today…" Hoshi swallowed hard, voice low, gritting his teeth. "It was another reminder of what he's been fighting alone. He looked so pale before we left because we needed to help the professor. He said he'd be fine. But when we ran back…" His voice broke, fists pressing into his thighs, "We found him rolling down the stairs…" 

Seungcheol listened without interruption, expression grim and jaw tight. His arm tightened around Jeonghan, but his eyes flicked between each of them as they spoke, never losing focus. 

"We saw him break before. We saw him flinching over loud sounds. We saw how he withdrew from situations. We saw how he was so afraid that Mingyu would leave him." Jeonghan finally raised his head, eyes red. "And now… I don't know how much more he can take." 

The words hung heavy in the sterile air.

"I need all of you to know that it's not your fault that his uncle showed up. It's on that nasty bastard and his choices." Seungcheol drew in a slow breath, letting it out carefully. His hand was smoothing over Jeonghan's shoulder, firm and grounding. "Now we know the full picture, it won't be ignored. This isn't just abuse, but years of systematic torment. And now it's escalated to attempted murder." 

The boys shifted uneasily and exchanged weary looks. Even if they knew the logic behind, but hearing the words aloud made their chests tighten. 

"Listen, you guys have done everything for Wonwoo, more than most people would have. But this is even serious than before. If we don't act, Wonwoo will never be free. That man will keep showing up, and next time…" Seungcheol let the thought trail off, but the unfinished end was sharp enough to sting. 

"I'm calling my contact in the police," Seungcheol did not hesitate and whipped out his phone. "He's someone I trust, someone who won't brush this aside. With what you've told me, plus today's incident, we have enough to push for an immediate investigation." 

The group looked at one another, wide-eyed. They exchanged weary looks, their emotions raw. But beneath it all, there was a fragile thread of relief. For the first time, someone outside their circle carried the truth with them - someone older, someone with authority, someone who could fight where they could not. 

With the phone in his hand, Seungcheol stepped a few feet away from the boys while the rest sat in heavy silence, listening to the faint murmur of Seungcheol's voice as he explained everything to their contact. And behind the glass, Mingyu sat by Wonwoo's bed, head bowed close to Wonwoo's hand. He didn't hear the conversation, didn't see Seungcheol's determination, but he lived every syllable of their pain in his own silence. 

"Coups is helping us with this matter. He's calling his contact in the police force." Mingyu read the notification from his phone and looked up, giving the rest of the boys a firm nod through the window. 

Looking back at Wonwoo, his lips moved silently as his forehead rested near Wonwoo's hand, whispering the promise that had carried him this far, "I'll be here. No matter what." 

// 

For the first twenty-four hours, it almost felt like a mercy. The monitors hummed a steady, dull lullaby as nurses checked lines and wrote down with quiet efficiency. Mingyu barely slept, but he watched every tiny rise and fall of Wonwoo's chest, whispered nonsense in Wonwoo's ear, and counted heartbeats like a prayer. 

They settled into a rhythm where Mingyu sat at the bedside with his head bowed, knuckles white around Wonwoo's cold hand, the other rotating shifts outside the ICU, pacing the hallway. Seungcheol had gone back to work and had also called with updates from his contact with the police, and messages of support threaded through their phones. 

Doctors and nurses came and went, signalling that everything is going well. But by the late morning of the second day, the world tilted again. 

Mingyu had been dozing in the chair by Wonwoo's bed when the monitors' steady cadence hiccupped - a steady blip that made him jerk awake. He watched the line on the screen jitter, felt the breath leave his body the same instant the nurse's face barged in with sharp alarm. 

"Pressure's dropping," she told the doctor, voice clipped. "ICP is rising, pupils are unequal. He's decompensating." The room became a controlled chaos suddenly, as medics moved in with swift, practised determination. 

"Sir, you can't be here," The nurse's hand went to Mingyu's shoulder for a fraction, steadying.

"But -, "Mingyu tried. 

"It's protocol. We have to intubate; we need space." She said gently, but with no room for protest. 

"No…" Mingyu's fingers tightened on Wonwoo's hand as if to anchor his pulse to his own. He tried to move with them, to hold the bedrail, to be nearer. But the medic's voice rose, "Sir. You have to step back. Now." Gently and firmly, they guided Mingyu away from the bedside and to the hallway where the boys were. 

Mingyu tried to hold onto Wonwoo's hands until the last possible seconds. He pressed his forehead against the bandaged knuckles, mouth opening as if to form more words, promises or any bargains. 

Then the doors closed.

On the other side of the window, everything contracted for the others. They saw how frantic the medics ran in; they heard the frantic staccato beeps of the machine; they saw how Mingyu stumbled into the hallway, with colour drained from his face. 

"Mingyu!" Jeonghan shrieked. 

For a moment, he stood as if hearing the world anew, then he snapped and fell apart. Collapsing onto the floor, his hands clawed at his hair, his shoulders shaking the way they had not since the ambulance. The composure he had corralled for Wonwoo's sake had now shattered into raw and devastating sound. He sobbed, sharp and hoarse, that single wordless implosion that leaves everyone who hears it with a hollowed ache. 

The group surged instinctively. Jeonghan went straight to Mingyu and placed his hands on Mingyu's shoulders. That touch from Jeonghan cracked Mingyu even further and he curled himself into Jeonghan's chest, as close as possible. Chan crouched down, heartbroken, and wrapped his arms around Mingyu. Hoshi put a hand on Mingyu's back, steady and immovable. Jihoon stood patiently by the door and waited for more news from the medics. 

Mingyu's breakdown lasted and then slowed. The way he buried himself into Jeonghan's chest was like a person seeking refuge from a storm. Between ragged breaths, he whispered, "Please don't leave me… He can't…" The words broke apart, incoherent and devastating. 

"He's not alone. We're here to support him. He knows it." Jeonghan pressed his palm firmly against Mingyu's back, voice rough and quiet. 

And they waited till the chaos turned back into the calm, peace from earlier. 

When the ICU doors finally opened, every pair of eyes snapped up. Everyone jerked into attention as the surgeon stepped out, mask lowered, fatigue carved into his face. 

"It was a close shave." He looked at them, at their tense shoulders, clenched fists and bloodshot eyes. With a steady voice, he continued, "The pressure in his brain spiked suddenly, but we managed to stabilise him. He's also responding to treatment. Although he's not out of the woods, he's okay now." 

For a second, no one moved. The words hung in the air like foreign syllables. Then Mingyu muttered, "He… He's okay?" His voice cracked, and his hands held onto the surgeon's. 

"Yes," the surgeon gave him a firm, reassuring look. "He's stable. We'll continue to monitor him closely in the ICU for the next few days, but he's fighting through. He'll need rest and time but he's a strong boy - he's not slipping away from you." 

The relief was brutal. It hit all at once, like the air returning into lungs after submerging underwater. Jeonghan staggered back against the wall, exhaling a shaky breath. Chan pressed his palms into his eyes, his whole body trembling. Hoshi clung onto Jihoon, shakily and Jihoon squeezed Hoshi's shoulder, not sure if it was to ground him or himself. 

"Thank you," Mingyu swayed, his knees threatening to buckle again but he steadied on the wall. "Thank you, doctor." His eyes burned with tears, and his chest heaved as though he had to relearn how to breathe. 

The surgeon gave a small nod, then excused himself back inside, leaving the group to pick themselves up. Mingyu slid down to the chair and the rest huddled over, mumbling, "He's okay now, he's going to be fine." 

//

It was 2 days after the emergency condition that Seungcheol came to the hospital, along with two other officers in plain clothes. Walking towards the ICU, Seungcheol led them with a dark expression and determination. 

"Bub," Seungcheol called out. Jeonghan looked up, halfway through the conversation with the boys. 

"What exactly does Seungcheol hyung work as?" Chan whispered. 

"He's the Superintendent of the Police," Jihoon mentioned subtly and Chan's eyes took in a huge breath, causing Jihoon and Hoshi to laugh at his reaction. 

"Good news first," Seungcheol's voice rang through the hallway. "That bastard had been officially taken into custody and will be prosecuted. Witnesses have come forward to share what they had witnessed, and with Wonwoo's condition, the charges will be serious. He's not going to walk away from this." 

"Yes," One of the officers added, "But we'll need Mr Jeon's statement once he's able to. For now, his safety is our priority. Security has been notified and no one from that family will be able to be anywhere near this hospital." 

The boys exchanged glances, an unspoken weight lifted off them. 

"Really?" Mingyu's fists clenched at his sides. "So Wonwoo doesn't have to go through that turmoil ever again?"

"Yes, he won't. Not anymore." Seungcheol laid his hand on Mingyu's shoulder firmly, grounding him. 

"Thank you, hyung," Mingyu muttered, looking straight into Seungcheol's eyes. "Thank you so much." 

Looking through the window, the group fell into silence again. But things felt different now. Not with the silence of fear, or waiting for the worst. This time, this is hummed with relief, with the aching kind of hope that comes only from surviving a storm. Inside, Wonwoo lay unconscious, but at least he's safe, and he's recuperating. Outside, the boys kept their vigil, only this time with the reassurance that the danger had been cut off at its roots. 

And for the first time in years, Wonwoo's future no longer looked like a cage. It looked like something that could, maybe, be free. 

//

Mingyu never left the night shifts, not even after the good news had been released. He insisted while they rotated shifts around Wonwoo's bed, refusing to leave him alone for even a moment. 

"Wonwoo ya, everything is going to get better," Jeonghan muttered. 

"You're going to be fine," Jihoon prayed. 

"You'll be great in no time, so come back to us soon," Hoshi whispered, while ruffling Wonwoo's hair. 

"Hyung, I miss you so, so much. Things are clearing up, and everything is working well. Wake up soon, okay?" Chan murmured after reading a chapter of Wonwoo's favourite story. 

"Jeon Wonwoo, it's been eight days. Eight agonising and long days. Have you rested enough? Can you come back to me soon? So I can share with you the bestest news and you can witness for yourself?" Mingyu held onto Wonwoo's hand while bringing it close to his cheeks. 

Then, at the ninth day, the smallest sound broke the endless monotony. A groan - soft, cracked, but real- sounded across the room. Mingyu's head shot up from where it had been resting on his arms at Wonwoo's bedside. His eyes widened as Wonwoo's fingers twitched against the blanket, then shifted weakly. 

"Wonwoo? Hey, hey, I'm here," Mingyu whispered quickly, leaning in, his voice trembling but careful. Swiftly, he pressed the call button to alert the nurse. 

Wonwoo's eyelids fluttered open, although disorientated, his gaze clouded as though he was still tangled in nightmares. "No… No!! Don't…" His breath came uneven, and then his body stiffened with panic flashing in his eyes. 

His voice cracked, raw and hoarse, shouting, "Don't… Don't hit me again!" His gaze darted around the room, his arms rose instinctively but with the sling across, he was trapped, which caused him to panic even more. "No, no, no! He's here! No No NO!!" He shrank back into the bed, closing his eyes and trembling under the covers. 

Mingyu's heart splintered. He grabbed Wonwoo's hands gently but firmly and placed them on his face. "Wonwoo, it's me only. It's me, Mingyu." His voice was low, urgent but soft - the way he had practised during countless nights of watching Wonwoo tremble through terrors. 

"Open your eyes. It's me, Mingyu, only me. He's not here, you're safe." Wonwoo's chest heaved, and his eyes shot open, scanning every corner of the room as though expecting the uncle to burst out from the shadows. The nurses hurried in to check his vitals before the doctor came rushing in. 

Mingyu's presence anchored Wonwoo through his panic attacks and eventually allowed the doctor to check on his situation. "I'm glad that Mr Jeon is awake now. However, with him being unconscious for the past eight days, he would need some time to regain his energy and strength. Do take some time to walk with him in the room and take in small portions of the food. His ribs are healing, and so are his shoulders. Just ensure that he doesn't exert any strength on them. Otherwise, he's all good, and all of your friends are able to visit him." With that, the doctor turned and left the room. 

"Thank you, doctor." Mingyu held onto Wonwoo's hands while standing by his bed, bowing at the doctor. 

In the next few seconds, all the boys began to enter the room, as gently as possible, not wanting to scare Wonwoo. Before coming, they envisioned seeing Wonwoo lying on the bed, calmly, maybe feeling tired. What they never thought of was a frantic Wonwoo, leaning closely onto Mingyu, with tears streaming down. 

"What happened?" Hoshi asked. 

"He woke up, thinking that his uncle was in the room, trying to harm him," Mingyu whispered while stroking Wonwoo's hair. 

"Wonwoo, ah, welcome back," Jeonghan crouched near the foot of the bed. "It's just us, all 5 of us. That person can't get to you anymore; he's not here." 

Hoshi added softly, "He's locked up, you don't have to be scared, hmm?" 

"He won't be able to hurt you anymore, Wonwoo ya," Jihoon continued, gently. 

"You're safe, hyung. You have us now." Chan muttered softly. 

"Safe?" Wonwoo muttered. "Am I?" 

"Yes, b… Wonwoo." Mingyu nearly slipped an endearment for Wonwoo but caught himself. Both hands cradling Wonwoo's trembling body. "Breathe with me, it's only us." 

Slowly, painfully slowly, Wonwoo's gasps softened into shaky breaths. His terrified gaze finally looked up and locked onto Mingyu's. "Mingyu…" His voice cracked 

"Yes, it's me…" Mingyu's grip tightened. "I'm not going anywhere." 

The others exchanged looks and were relieved that even in Wonwoo's disorientation, he reached for Mingyu first. 

//

The following days blurred into a quiet rhythm; not the sterile hum of hospital machinery but something gentler. The boys made sure of that. 

They filled Wonwoo's room with traces of warmth - small things that made it feel less like a hospital ward. Hoshi brought along his portable speaker, playing the mellow playlists Wonwoo used to hum along to during their late study nights. Chan pinned up a few photos from their gatherings on the wall beside his bed. Hoshi brought along some quiet games to play in the ward to keep Wonwoo occupied. Jihoon brought along Wonwoo's favourite books from the dorm for Wonwoo to flip through when he's bored. Jeonghan stayed beside Wonwoo most of the time and talked about things that happened in school during his absence. 

Mingyu?

He stayed through it all; he rarely left, even when the nurses told him to rest. At night, he would pull the chair close to Wonwoo's bed and hold his hand lightly, tracing soothing circles on his palm whenever Wonwoo stirred or whimpered in his sleep. Wonwoo had allowed Mingyu to step into his inner circle and Mingyu treasures it so preciously. 

The nightmares were the hardest. 

They came suddenly - sharp and suffocating while dragging Wonwoo back into a darkness he couldn't escape. 

Sometimes, he finds himself back in the staircase lobby, facing his uncle and being pushed down the stairs. He would jolt awake, breathing ragged, eyes darting around the dim room, half expecting to see the uncle's shadow looming. 

Sometimes, he finds himself screaming for his life. “Stop… please, dont…” The words tore from his throat, strangled and broken. His body jerked against the sheets, hands clutching at the blanket as if trying to push someone away. "STOP!" 

Despite this, Mingyu was there, always. He would shoot up from the chair, with his heart pounding loudly against his chest and lean towards Wonwoo in an instant. Grabbing his hand, he would call out to him, "Wonwoo! It's me, Mingyu. You're safe, look at me." But often, Wonwoo couldn't hear him. His eyes will be squeezed shut, tears leaking from the corners as he keeps shaking his head, whispering, "I'll be good, I promise. Don't hit me…" 

Mingyu would often reach out to Wonwoo, pulling Wonwoo into his arms despite the tangle of the IV lines and the machines beeping in warning. "He's gone, I promise," he said, voice trembling but gentle. "He can't hurt you anymore." 

He would hold him until Wonwoo's trembling subsided, even when the nurses rushed in. They saw the way Wonwoo slowly stilled in Mingyu's arms, and they would step back, exchanging a knowing glance and writing down notes in their files. Mingyu would just sit there, murmuring quiet reassurances into Wonwoo's hair and leaving gentle pecks on his head. 

And this didn't happen just once. 

Some nights, the nightmares came and went like a flash. Some nights, they linger and it made Wonwoo tremble and plead for long hours, no matter how much Mingyu and the boys soothed and calmed him. 

It started with small whimpers in the middle of the night, the kind that Mingyu had grown used to over the past few days. But, something was amiss. It shifted, and the sound was sharper this time, with a hint of franticness. 

"Stop, please, stop!" Wonwoo's voice cracked, his body twisted against the sheets, ignoring the pain that his shoulders were causing. "I promise I will be good, stop hitting me!!" His breathing turned ragged, shallow and desperate.

Mingyu rushed to him, as usual, muttering, "Hey hey, it's me. You're safe. You are -" 

But before he could finish, Wonwoo's hand flew to his arm, clawing blindly, and trying to push something or someone away. "Don't… It's not me…" his voice was trembling, torn between pleading and terror, "Please don't hit me again!" 

Then came the sound - the sharp, sickening rip of adhesive tape tearing. Mingyu froze as he saw the IV line yanked clean out of Wonwoo's arm, blood welling up immediately. 

"Wonwoo! No, no, no! Stop!" Mingyu grabbed his wrist, just as Wonwoo tried to sit up. His movements were frantic, disoriented. The machines started blaring in alarm, beeping, turning chaotic and red numbers flashing on the screen. 

"Get away!" Wonwoo screamed, eyes wild and unfocused. "Let me go! He's here again! He's here!" 

"Mingyu is here," Mingyu held on tighter, his heart shattering. "You're in the hospital, only Mingyu is here." 

But Wonwoo didn't hear him. He fought harder against Mingyu, tears streaming down his face, breath coming out in short and terrified gasps. The commotion drew Jeonghan in from the hallway, who was out to grab coffee for the night. He sprinted in to help, pinning down Wonwoo's legs as gently as he could. "Wonwoo, it's Hannie." He called out, voice tight with panic. "Hannie and Mingyu." 

The door burst open again and nurses came rushing in. Catching Wonwoo's arms by the side, one of the male nurses quickly injected the sedative into his arms. Within moments, Wonwoo's thrashing began to slow, voice breaking into quiet sobs before fading altogether. The room fell eerily silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. The nurses then continued to insert the IV needle back into Wonwoo's hands and cleared up the streaks of blood on both Wonwoo and Mingyu before leaving the room. Mingyu stood frozen for a moment, feeling the air crushing him then. 

He sank to the floor beside Wonwoo's bed, knees pulling close to his chest. "He was so scared." His hands covered his face, trying to hide the tears that came unbidden. "He thought I was him… he thought I was going to hurt him…" 

"He's been through too much. You know it's not you; he didn't see you. He saw the man who hurt him." Jeonghan crouched beside him, his usually steady voice soft but trembling. 

"But I promised I would protect him…" Mingyu shook his head helplessly. His voice cracked mid-sentence, his fingers tightening around his knees. "I promised he would never feel like that again. And he still does… even with me there." 

"You're keeping him alive, Mingyu." Jeonghan placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's what matters right now. He's not fighting you, he's fighting the memories he had that were ingrained in him" 

Mingyu let out a shaky breath, eyes red, jaws clenched as he looked up at how peaceful Wonwoo is now. "I… I just wish that all these would end soon, and I can continue to be beside him." 

"It will… Wonwoo will want to have you too," Jeonghan sat down beside Mingyu, both listening to the faint beeps of the machines, the only sound that reminded them that Wonwoo was still breathing. 

Don't worry,
I'm going to be here for you.
You have my word. 

Chapter Text

Fear lingered for Wonwoo; it never really left but shadowed every breath of his and even when he’s awake, the fight to feel safe had only just begun. 

He would wake up with his chest tight every morning, as if the shadows from the nightmares had followed him into daylight. The sterile scent of antiseptic, the soft rustle of curtains and even the low hum of the machines became fragments of a battlefield inside his head. 

Sometimes he woke up, gasping, fingers clawing at the blanket, expecting to find the roughness of his uncle’s hand stead. His body would lock, trembling and his eyes darting around the room until he saw familiar faces and touches - Mingyu’s hand would be placed on top of his while dozing off on the chair, Jeonghan checking his messages by the window, Jihoon and Hoshi whispering softly near the door, Chan reading typing on the laptop. 

Mingyu noticed all these flinching moments. But he chose not to say anything. He chose to pause, pull his hand back a little and let Wonwoo take the first step - letting him choose when to reach out. And Wonwoo would, eventually. A slow, hesitant movement of his fingers, brushing against Mingyu’s like he was testing the world for danger. 

He hated how fragile he had become - how he became so afraid of everything around him, despite escaping from the house back then. Yet Mingyu’s existence proved him wrong - that he’s not fragile, that he’s not weak. A part of him was terrified of depending on Mingyu, yet a voice in his head was telling him to trust Mingyu, that Mingyu and the rest are there to help. 

And Wonwoo would breathe a little easier. 

//

With his favourite book on his lap, Wonwoo sat propped against the pillows, reading the chapters that he had stopped. While immersing himself in the land of fiction, Mingyu took the time to take a quick shower in the bathroom when the rest of the boys headed back to school. 

The sound of running water echoed faintly from the small bathroom, the steady, rhythmic hiss of the shower - the sound had become part of the daily rhythm. Adding on to the way Mingyu hummed softly as he showered, it made the space feel safe, oddly grounding, even. 

Wonwoo took a slow breath, his thumb brushing over the edge of the page as he continued reading. His heart, though still fragile, felt steadier in this silence and warmed by Mingyu’s presence. 

But the devil is always looming around, shattering the peace that Wonwoo had barely held onto. 

The door burst open with a violent crack, making him jolt. His book slipped from his fingers, thudding onto the sheets. 

“Jeon Wonwoo!” A voice screeched - sharp, shrill, filled with venom, sliced through the silence like a broken glass. 

Auntie stood in the doorway, with her face twisted in outrage. Her body was blocking the light coming in from the hallway. Behind her, three teens crowded uncertainly, expressions tight with confusion and frustration. 

For a moment, Wonwoo couldn’t move. His pulse spiked, and his breath caught in his throat. Gripping onto the sheets, the familiarity of Auntie’s voice, the suddenness of this, they all ripped through every fragile layer of safety he had built in the last week. 

“JEON WON WOO”, She shouted again, stepping inside as if she owned the space. “You ungrateful brat! How dare you do this to us?!!!”

“A.. Auntie?” His voice barely audible, quivering at every syllable. 

“Why are you doing this to us?” Hyunseok, the eldest of the three cousins, strode towards Wonwoo and grabbed him by the collar. The motion was rough and sudden. Wonwoo gasped as the fabric of his hospital gown tightened around his throat, pulling him forward. The IV line tugged painfully against his arm, the sling on his shoulder creating tension on his broken bones. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Hyunseok hissed, shaking him. “Dad raised you when your parents dumped you on us, and this is how you repay him?” 

“S… Stop…” Wonwoo stammered, his voice breaking as fear surged through him. His fingers instinctively reached up to grab Hyunseok’s wrist, trying to pry himself free, but the strength wasn’t there. His body trembled from the strain, from the terror that gripped every nerve. 

The other two cousins stepped closer, with Hyunwoo sneering and Hyunjoo crossing her arms with a look of disgust. 

“Look at you,” Hyunwoo spat. “Still weak, useless as always. You always were a burden.” 

“Exactly,” Hyunjoo grunted. “It’s always like this, playing the victim card and making us the big bully.” 

 “No…” Wonwoo croaked while feeling the ache all over his body. 

“Pathetic, you’re so pathetic.” Auntie’s voice joined in, sharp and cruel. “Not only were you a burden to our family, but you’ve ruined our family’s name. Do you know how much shame you brought on us? Thanks to you, everyone’s talking about how your uncle’s in jail because of you?” 

The room blurred at the edges and Wonwoo could only hear the monitor speeding up and the vicious tone in his auntie’s words. 

“Stop… please…” Wonwoo muttered, his voice small and broken. “It hurts…” 

“Hah, you think crying will fix anything?” Hyunseok only tightened his grip, shaking him once more. 

Wonwoo’s eyes went wide, panic flooding through him and the scene overlapped with hundreds of old memories. The same pull at the collar; the same look of disgust; the same sharp voice telling him to “toughen up”. 

His chest felt like it was caving in and he felt like he had gone back to that house, back under those hands. 

“What the hell are you doing!?” Mingyu’s voice exploded through the room, loud enough for everything to flinch. With the towel still hung around his neck, he crossed the space in seconds, grabbing Hyunseok’s wrist and tearing his hand off Wonwoo’s collar. 

Hyunseok stumbled back in shock, but Mingyu’s fury didn’t stop there. 

“Get the fuck out,” he growled. “All of you. NOW.” 

Hyunwoo sneered, refusing to budge. 

“Who the hell are you? You have no say in this, this is family business…” 

“Family?” Mingyu snickered. “If this is family, you won’t even lay a hand on your cousin. Get the fuck out now before I call for the police.” 

“Police?” Behind them, Hyunjoo rolled her eyes. “Hah, please. He caused my dad to be locked up; we should be the ones calling the police for false accusation.” 

“False accusation?” Mingyu bellowed. “Open those fucking eyes of yours and take a look at the injuries that your dad has caused. Wonwoo nearly died because your dad pushed him down the stairs. Don’t believe? Just go to the station and ask to watch the evidence, I’m sure you’ll know if it’s a false accusation or not. Now get the fuck out.” 

The sound of Wonwoo’s laboured breathing filled the silence that followed. 

“He did not push him down; it was merely a touch. He’s the weak one who can’t handle it and falls of his own accord. He needs to tell the police the truth!” Auntie inched closer to Wonwoo’s bed as she spoke, and Mingyu had taken a step forward to block her way. 

“HE NEEDS TO TELL THE POLICE THE TRUTH.” She shouted. “He didn’t push you right, Jeon Wonwoo! You were the one who fell accidentally, right?!” 

From the hallway, nurses’ voices were approaching, drawn by the commotion in the room but Auntie wasn’t done. 

“Don’t forget who raised you, you brat!” Auntie continued spitting with anger. “Don’t you dare to bite the hand that feeds you!” 

“Stop all this nonsense,” Mingyu’s voice dropped low, deadly calm. “You are nothing but bullies. You’ve caused enough damage.” 

The nurses burst in, followed by a doctor and two security guards. 

“Sir, Mdm, you need to leave!” The room descended into chaos again, with raised voices, scuffling feet, and cries of protest. 

“No, we need to talk to him!” Hyunseok protested. 

“You’re causing unnecessary stress to the patient; you need to leave,” one of the security guards said, taking a step to guide them out. 

They continued to resist, shouting about “family rights,” but both guards were already pulling them out towards the door. 

Just before they were out, Auntie turned around for the last time, eyes burning with hatred before saying, “You’ll regret this, Wonwoo. You’ll regret betraying your family.” 

Then the door slammed shut and the noise stopped. But the silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. 

Mingyu immediately sat on the bed as he cupped Wonwoo’s face gently. “Hey, it’s me,” he whispered. “They’re gone now, I’m here, okay?” 

Wonwoo couldn’t speak; he just leaned forward and placed his head onto Mingyu’s chest while clutching weakly onto Mingyu’s sleeve. The doctor and nurses adjusted his IV swiftly and checked on his wound before leaving shortly. 

Staying in that position, Mingyu brushed his thumb gently over Wonwoo’s hand and stayed silent for a while. 

“Breathe, my love,” he whispered softly. “They can’t hurt you anymore, I swear.” 

“My love…” Wonwoo thought. Something in his chest tightened - that familiar skip of a heartbeat that always came when Mingyu was near him. Even in this chaos, Mingyu is the one who kept him grounded, wrapping him in warmth like a blanket in the cold. 

He exhaled shakily, feeling the strong and steady rhythm beneath his ear while leaning weakly onto Mingyu’s chest. The sound of Mingyu’s heartbeat drowned out the machines, the voices and most importantly, the memory of hands grabbing his collar. 

For the first time since the shouting started, Wonwoo closed his eyes. 

“I’ve got you,” Mingyu tightened his hold slightly, pressing his cheek against Wonwoo’s hair. “I’m here, go and sleep.” 

And there, in the sterile hum of the hospital ward, Wonwoo let his eyelids grow heavy, trusting Mingyu’s voice, his warmth, his presence. He drifted off to a fitful but peaceful rest, albeit still trembling faintly; he knew that this time, he was anchored, not by fear, but by Mingyu. 

“I love you, Wonwoo ah,” Mingyu let his thoughts run through his mind, hoping that one day it reaches Wonwoo. 

//

Sitting beside Wonwoo’s bedside, Mingyu’s eyes were fixed on the slow, steady rise and fall of Wonwoo’s chest. His phone buzzed endlessly on the table yet he hadn’t answered any messages until he sent one - short and shaky: 

Mingyu

They came

And hurt him again…

But he’s safe now

That was all it took, as hurried footsteps could be heard echoing down the hallway in under 15 minutes. The door flew open and in came the rest of the boys with their expressions a mix of fury and fear. 

“What happened?” Hoshi’s voice was tight, trembling with barely contained anger. As he walked to Wonwoo’s bedside, his eyes darted to the red marks on Wonwoo’s collar, to the slightly dishevelled bed, to the wet towel still clutched in Mingyu’s hand. “Why are the policemen outside the ward?” 

“They barged in?” Jihoon asked, looking at Wonwoo and gently stroking his legs. 

Mingyu nodded, jaw clenching. 

“They barged in while I was showering, his aunt and the three cousins. They were yelling, calling him names and even grabbed him by the collar.” He dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion etched deep into every motion. “I… I came out too late.” His voice faltered and the memory flashed too vividly. 

“They even insinuate that Wonwoo’s the one who did something wrong, threatening him to drop the charges,” Mingyu swallowed hard. 

“That’s insane. Hyung’s barely recovered, and they…” Chan’s fists tightened at his sides, exhaling sharply, trying to steady his temper. 

“What nonsense,” Jeonghan’s hands balled into fists. “How did they even get in? There’s supposed to be security!” 

“I don’t know…” Mingyu’s voice cracked. “He was just… sitting there, reading. It was quiet and then chaos started.” 

“He must have been so scared…” Jihoon stepped closer to Wonwoo, his expression shifted into something softer. “After so many things, he must have been afraid…” 

Before anyone could answer, the door opened again. This time, with controlled urgency, Seungcheol entered, wearing a dark jacket and his expression grim. Two uniformed officers then followed behind him. 

“Mingyu,” His voice was calm but laced with concern. “Jeonghan called. What exactly happened?” 

“The aunt and cousins came barging in and threatened him… One of them even grabbed him by the collar. I stopped them, and security came later to make them leave. But…” He looked at Wonwoo’s sleepy state and paused. “She said something before she left.”

“What did she say?” Seungcheol asked, eyes narrowing. 

“That he’ll regret this, regret betraying the family. Her eyes were full of hatred and anger. It was scary.” 

A flicker of seriousness crossed Seungcheol’s face while the rest of the boys took a deep breath. 

“I thought we had security, Coups?” Jeonghan asked. “How could they just walk in like that?” 

“They used Wonwoo’s family name,” Seungcheol sighed. “Claiming that it was an emergency visitation and the staff thought it was legitimate. But after this,” he glanced towards the officers behind him, “no one gets in unless cleared by me or the attending doctor.” 

“The aunt and the three will be charged for harassment and obstruction. I’ve also arranged for two officers to be here until Wonwoo is stable enough to be discharged.” Seungcheol continued. 

Mingyu pressed a hand to his face, exhaustion etched deep in his expression. “He was terrified, hyung. Like any more of such, he’s gonna break.” His voice cracked while staring at Wonwoo’s sleepy state. 

“You got him safe,” Jeonghan stepped closer and placed a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder. “That’s what matters now.” 

“I really hope that security would be tighter from now,” Jihoon mumbled. “Wonwoo doesn’t deserve all these.” 

“Don’t worry, no one gets in unless it’s you guys, me, or the attending medical staff.” Seungcheol crossed his arms and stared right at Wonwoo. 

// 

The ward was dimly lit; the fluorescent lights had long since been dimmed, and only the faint glow of the heart monitor blinked steadily in the darkness. 

After an afternoon of chaos, everyone had returned home while Mingyu continued to stay. Sitting beside Wonwoo’s bed, Mingyu’s chair was drawn close enough that his knees brushed against the mattress. His hand rested gently over Wonwoo’s, and his thumb was tracing light and absent-minded circles against the back of his palm. 

Watching Wonwoo drifting into what seemed like sleep, his breaths were shallow, uneven but steady and Mingyu never took his eyes off him. 

“Hey,” Mingyu whispered, voice barely audible over the faint rhythm of the machines. “You really scared the hell out of me, you know that?” While tracing circles on Wonwoo’s palm, Mingyu gently gripped onto Wonwoo’s hand. 

A breath of a laugh escaped him, but it broke midway, trembling into silence. “And do you know that you are always making me feel things I don’t even know how to handle? Fear. Anger. Relief. Love.” 

“I don’t know if you realise it, but you’ve changed everything, the moment I knew you.” Mingyu exhaled slowly, eyes softening as he reached to brush a strand of hair that had fallen across Wonwoo’s forehead. “The way I see the world, the way I bring myself towards you, the way I want to protect you.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore, my love.” Mingyu smiled faintly to himself, bringing Wonwoo’s palm to his lips, giving a gentle peck. “You don’t have to fight alone because I’m here to stay. Even if you push me away, even if you can’t say it back, I’ll still be here.” 

“Because somewhere along the way, I had fallen for you, Wonwoo. Not out of pity, not out of fear.” He added softly, like an unplanned confession. “But because I see you… I see the entirety of you - the brave parts, the broken ones, the shaky ones.” 

“Now…” Mingyu continued to caress Wonwoo’s hand, tracing the edge of the bandage. “Now, you don’t have to hold the knife anymore. You don’t have to fight with those devils anymore. You just… You just have to let me hold you. Can you? Can I?” He leaned forward, giving a gentle peck on Wonwoo’s forehead, before placing Wonwoo’s hand onto his own cheek, looking at Wonwoo sleeping. Slowly, he rested his head on the edge of the bed, fingers never once letting go. 

For a long time, the room went silent. 

Wonwoo’s eyes barely fluttered open, just enough to see the faint outline of Mingyu’s head resting near his arm. His chest tightened with something unfamiliar swelling inside him, and he lifted the arm that wasn’t held by Mingyu to touch the spot that Mingyu kissed. It felt warm. It’s filled with love. And most importantly, it made Wonwoo smile. 

“You don’t have to fight alone”

“I’ll still be here”
“Let me hold you”

He could still hear Mingyu’s words echoing in his mind.
Yes, he wasn’t asleep and he heard the entirety of Mingyu’s confession. 

Staring at Mingyu’s hand over his own, he didn’t move. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or comfort that kept him frozen. Mingyu’s confession replayed over and over, each and every single word peeled open a piece in him that had long been sealed off. Love. Stay. Hold. Words that were empty promises now sounded true. 

But the instinct to doubt still lingered until Chan’s voice surfaced in him. 

“Hyung is just there, because you matter to him.”

Those words haunted him back then, but now they have become the anchor in his heart. Wonwoo felt those words sink even deeper, through his fears and the layers of defence he had built all his life. 

Maybe it’s okay to not run so hard. 

He exhaled shakily. 

Maybe, this time, I can watch and feel.

Stretching his free hand over, he stroked Mingyu’s head lightly. Mingyu stirred but didn’t wake. And for the first time in awhile, Wonwoo didn’t dream of escape. 

He dreamed of peace. 

And he knows that he has Mingyu, someone who is staying, guarding and loving him in silence. 

// 

The next few days passed in a slow and dreamlike haze. Wonwoo was recovering, weak but stable. The bruises had begun to fade and the bandages were changed daily. No one had barged in again and the boys were always around. And this made Wonwoo observe even more. 

Mingyu was always there. 

He would pull up the chair every morning and sit with Wonwoo through breakfast, pretending to read a book while his eyes flicked up every few seconds to check if Wonwoo was eating properly. 

When Wonwoo lifted himself up to go to the bathroom, Mingyu was already on his feet before Wonwoo could ask. 

Mingyu always speak softly, always in that same calm tone - the one that grounds Wonwoo whenever the memories start to claw at his chest. 

How Mingyu would always lower his voice whenever someone entered the room. How he would shift himself slightly between Wonwoo and the door, creating a silent protection. 

Sometimes, Mingyu would fall asleep in the chair, neck awkwardly tilted with an arm dangling near the edge of the bed. Wonwoo would stare at him in the soft glow of the evening light with the sound of the heart monitor syncing with the quiet rhythm of Mingyu’s breathing. 

It happened again and this time, they weren’t alone. 

The door creaked open, and Wonwoo retreated his gaze back almost immediately. 

“Hey,” Chan whispered, smiling when he saw Wonwoo awake. Jeonghan followed behind, carrying a bag with beverages. They stepped in quietly, eyes naturally falling to the sight before them, with Mingyu asleep yet holding onto Wonwoo’s hand. 

Jeonghan let out a small grin but said nothing, simply shaking his head fondly while placing the bag down on the table nearby. Chan walked to the other side of the bed, with an understanding flickering through his eyes. 

“Still hasn’t moved an inch, huh?” Jeonghan murmured, his tone more affectionate than teasing. 

“He…” Wonwoo blushed, eyes darting around the room. “He stayed.” 

“Of course he did,” Chan smiled faintly and sat on the edge of the bed. “He’s been doing that since you got here.” 

“But…” Wonwoo hesitated, his thumb brushing over the edge of Mingyu’s hand unconsciously. “But… he’s done so much already.” 

“Hyung, you say it like caring for someone is a burden,” Chan leaned forward slightly, and ruffled Wonwoo’s hair. 

Wonwoo froze at Chan’s words. 

“Wonu ya, remember when we first met you? You didn’t even want to eat with us, spend time with us.” Jeonghan chuckled from the foot of the bed. “Now look at you, holding hands with Mingyu on the bed.” 

“Hyung! Don’t tease him already,” Wonwoo’s face turned pink gradually and Chan laughed quietly. Turning back to Wonwoo, Chan added, “But hyung, you’re kinda obvious too, the way you look at him.” 

And it made Wonwoo’s face change from pink to bright red instantly. 

“Hyung, remember what I told you before? Mingyu hyung does all these because it’s you. Because you matter to him. And that’s the most important part.” Chan continued. 

“He… He said something a few nights back…” Wonwoo announced, voice trembling. “I couldn’t sleep that night but I was just resting my eyes and he thought that I was sleeping. He… he told me…” 

“Yeah?” Jeonghan leaned forward slightly, curious. 

“He said… that he had fallen for me, wanted to protect me and wanted to hold on to me…” Wonwoo’s gaze returned to Mingyu’s sleepy state, softened but filled with emotions. The words came out barely above a whisper, but they hung in the air like something sacred. 

“Finally…” Chan mumbled while Jeonghan’s eyes widened slightly, a rare flicker of surprise crossing his face before he smiled faintly. 

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” Wonwoo’s grip on Mingyu’s hand tightened just a little. 

“Hyung,” Chan exhaled slowly, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Remember what I said? That Mingyu hyung has never done anything halfway. He’s not waiting for something from you, not a reward, not a return. He’s just there, because you matter to him.” 

“You deserve all these,” Jeonghan nodded, quiet agreement in his eyes. “You deserve all the love and affection from Mingyu.” 

Wonwoo’s breath caught, and his heart beat unevenly, albeit not from fear, but from something tender and unfamiliar. 

When Jeonghan and Chan left for school, Wonwoo whispered into the quiet, his thumb brushing Mingyu’s fingers again. 

“Maybe… I can try…” Before falling asleep with their hands tangled. 

// 

The days that followed moved slowly, like time itself had softened around them. The hum of machines, the muted shuffle of nurses, the scent of antiseptic had all become the rhythm of Wonwoo’s recovery. But something else had changed, subtly. 

Each time the door clicked open, Wonwoo would tense up with his eyes darting up before his body even registered the sound. It was instinct, the kind that built up from many years of fear. And every time before the panic could fully take root, Wonwoo’s hands would find Mingyu’s. A light squeeze, a gentle tug, grounding him again. 

The first few times, Mingyu was shocked by Wonwoo’s actions and felt the tremor in Wonwoo’s hand. By the end of the week, the trembling had lessened, replaced by the faintest pressure. But Mingyu never failed to stay by Wonwoo's side. 

When the nurses came to change his bandages, Wonwoo’s knuckles turned white against the sheets, his body gone rigid but he searched for Mingyu right away. The scent of disinfectant and the sting of alcohol brought flashes of the cold tile floors, harsh and the metallic tang of fear. Mingyu was beside him in an instant, sitting at the edge of the bed, resting his hand over Wonwoo’s, saying, “I’m right here”. 

Even when their friends visited and brought food, games, stories and laughter, Wonwoo’s eyes often drifted towards Mingyu and caught each other looking at each other. 

Hoshi noticed how Wonwoo’s shoulders would drop just slightly whenever Mingyu was near. Jihoon caught how Wonwoo leaned unconsciously towards the direction where Mingyu sat, or how his hand would rest near Mingyu’s on the bed. Chan realised how Wonwoo’s eyes glistened whenever Mingyu ruffled his hair. Jeonghan spotted Wonwoo smiling more often than usual whenever Mingyu speaks and jokes. 

They didn’t say anything, just exchanged knowing glances. 

A few days passed, and a knock came one morning, polite but firm. Mingyu looked up from the book he had been reading beside Wonwoo’s bed, while Wonwoo, still pale but awake, blinked towards the door. 

The moment it opened, tension slid into the room like a gentle breeze. Seungcheol stepped in first, wearing his usual calm but serious expression. Behind him, two plainclothes officers followed, their presence immediately altering the air. 

“Morning, boys,” Seungcheol said softly. “Sorry to come like this, but we’ll need to take Wonwoo’s statement today. The report has to be filed officially.” 

Mingyu’s heart sank a little, although he knew this was coming. But seeing Wonwoo’s fingers tremble against the blanket made his chest tighten. 

“The officers will keep this short,” Seungcheol continued gently. “Mingyu can stay to support Wonwo,o too. Just say what you remember, alright?” 

Wonwoo sat up with the help of Mingyu and leaned against him. His lips parted, but no words came out. His eyes darted between the unfamiliar uniforms and Seungcheol’s steady face, and the air suddenly felt too heavy to breathe. 

Mingyu reached out first, pulling Wonwoo gently into his embrace, with his fingers brushing lightly against Wonwoo’s hand. “Hey”, he whispered. “You’re safe, they’re not here to hurt you.” 

But Wonwoo’s body betrayed his mind. His breath came fast and shallow. His shoulders trembled. The sight of the police badges symbolises authority and control pulled Wonwoo deep into somewhere-somewhere with the echo of slammed doors and his uncle’s voice shouting.

The officers noticed the shift and paused, exchanging a look with Seungcheol. He nodded to Mingyu silently, signalling that they could wait. 

“Wonwoo”, Mingyu whispered again, leaning closer, his tone softer than air. “Look at me. Hmm, just me.” 

It took a few tries before Wonwoo’s gaze finally found Mingyu’s. “That’s it,” Mingyu coaxed, keeping his voice rhythmic and grounded. “Breathe with me, okay?” 

Inhale. 

Exhale.

“Great job, my love.” He guided Wonwoo to breathe until the tension in his shoulders eased a fraction. Then, without a word, Mingyu lifted their joined hands and pressed Wonwoo’s knuckles lightly to his chest. “Feel that?” he whispered. “You’re here, with me. I’m here, you’re safe.” 

Wonwoo nodded weakly, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. 

“I… I don’t…” he stammered, voice small. 

“You don’t have to be perfect,” Mingyu said immediately. “Just tell them what you remember. I’ll be right here.” 

Seungcheol gave a small nod to the officers, who began carefully, with their tone being gentle, avoiding legal jargon. They started by asking when the uncle had arrived, what he said, and what Wonwoo recalled right before the fall. 

But each question posed as a trigger. Every mention of uncle, every word like shove, stairs, pulled a flicker of panic back into Wonwoo’s eyes. And it made Wonwoo’s breathing hitch again. 

“I… I can’t…” Wonwoo’s voice cracked, fingers clutching Mingyu’s hands tightly enough to leave marks. “He… He was shouting… and… he… “ 

Mingyu leaned in, whispering so quietly only Wonwoo could hear. 

“You’re not there anymore, love. You’re here. Look around, there’s only me, Coups hyung and the officers.” His thumb brushed over Wonwoo’s trembling hands. “Keep your eyes on me.” 

And Wonwoo did. 

Each time his mind drifted back to fear, Mingyu was there, with his low voice, like an anchor in the storm. When Wonwoo faltered, Mingyu’s hand came up to wipe a tear away before it could fall. When his voice broke, Mingyu murmured, “You’re doing so well.” 

By the time the statement ended, the officers looked visibly moved. They closed their notebooks quietly. “We’ll make sure this helps,” one said softly before both leaving with Seungcheol. 

When the door clicked shut, silence returned, heavy but different this time. Wonwoo’s shoulders sagged with exhaustion. Not letting go of Mingyu’s hands, his fingers trembled faintly, his knuckles pale from how tightly he had been holding on. Mingyu didn’t pry him away; he just shifted, moving closer so Wonwoo could lean more comfortably 

“You did well,” Mingyu muttered. “It’s over now.”

Wonwoo’s eyes stayed fixed somewhere on the blanket, unfocused and his breathing uneven. “I kept thinking he would walk in again,” he confessed shakily. “That… somehow he would… he would hit me if I said the wrong thing.” 

Mingyu gently cupped the back of Wonwoo’s head, thumb tracing small, slow circles against his scalp. “No one’s touching you again,” he said softly but firmly. “You’re safe now, I promise.” 

The words landed like a promise carved in stone, buried deep into Wonwoo’s chest. He exhaled, the air catching in his throat before releasing in a small, broken sound. He tilted, almost unconsciously, his forehead resting against Mingyu’s shoulder. 

Mingyu didn’t move, didn’t speak, just held him there. His own chest ached with everything he couldn’t say aloud - the fear of losing him, the gratitude that Wonwoo was here, breathing alive. 

“I don’t want to sleep…” Wonwoo spoke weakly. “Every time I close my eyes, I see him shouting.” 

“Then just close them for a bit,” Mingyu said, reaching out for Wonwoo’s hand tightly. “You don’t have to sleep, just breathe. I’ll stay.” 

“Stay with me, please”, Wonwoo muttered. 

Mingyu shifted himself and tugged Wonwoo into his embrace tightly. Feeling the warmth of Mingyu’s palm against his hand and head, it grounded him again and slowly, Wonwoo’s eyes drooped and fluttered shut. 

Mingyu

Coups hyung just came to get Wonwoo’s statement 

Chan

How’s Wonwoo hyung? 

Hoshi

We’ll drop by tomorrow 

Mingyu
He’s scared
But he’s resting now

Jeonghan
We’ll check in with Coups 

Jihoon
Do you guys need anything? 

Mingyu
Maybe bring along Wonu’s favourite drink tmr?

Chan

Wonu? ㅋㅋㅋ

Jihoon
Somebody’s in love~ 

Mingyu

*no reply* 

// 

Wonwoo had been cleared for discharge, finally. But the moment the nurse wheeled in the folded paperwork and explained the steps, his stomach tightened. Thinking of going back to the place where the incident happened made him curl his fingers tightly into the blanket. 

“Hey,” Mingyu noticed immediately, whispering and bending slightly to meet Wonwoo’s gaze. “We’re going back together. Not sending you off alone.” 

“But…” Wonwoo stuttered, leaning his forehead onto Mingyu’s shoulders. 

“I will be here,” Mingyu moved up to the bed to catch hold of Wonwoo. “All of us will be around too.” 

“Mmmm.” Wonwoo stared intently at his blanket while the nurse continued to inform Mingyu of the things to take note of for Wonwoo. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The hospital room was brighter than usual on the day of Wonwoo’s discharge. The morning sun spilt through the curtain, making the room feel extra warm. The nurse had just removed Wonwoo’s IV line and explained the discharge procedure once again, but Wonwoo barely heard half of it. This time, his entire body is trembling under the blanket. 

Leaving meant facing the world again. 

Facing the corridors, dorm rooms, people…

And the memory of his uncle and his family….

“It’s okay,” Mingyu noticed the tension instantly and placed a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, thumb brushing comforting circles. “We’ll handle everything together.” 

Wonwoo nodded weakly and breathed shallowly. A soft knock came before the door slid open with Hoshi stepping in first, carrying two tote bags, while Jeonghan, Jihoon and Chan walked in with gentle smiles on their faces. 

“We’re here to pack!” Hoshi announced cheerfully. 

“Yeah, we’re your official moving team!” Chan said, winking. 

Seeing his friends all around him, in the same room, Wonwoo felt his chest loosen. 

Because they always make everything less terrifying. 

The room wasn’t messy but it held weeks’ worth of lived-in chaos. Scattered notes, gifts from classmates, chargers, books that Wonwoo kept with him, clothes and hospital-provided supplies were enough to keep everyone busy. The boys didn’t crowd him. They spread out naturally, each taking a part of the room, working like they had rehearsed it. 

“Hyung,” Chan walked over to the bedside table. I’m gonna sort all your snacks, notes and letters.” And started picking each item with care, making light jokes to keep Wonwoo from sinking into his thoughts. 

“Are these chargers yours?” Jihoon went to the shelf on the other side of the bed. 

Wonwoo nodded, and Jihoon started wrapping all the chargers and electronic devices into one of the tote bags. 

“These!” Hoshi took responsibility for the clothes. “I’ll just fold them properly and maybe bring them to the washing machine when we’re back!” 

Jeonghan dealt with the larger items, such as books, water bottles, a small fan, and the toiletries bag. “Anything you want to throw?” He scanned each item and brought it to Wonwoo to check. 

Wonwoo shook his head quietly and glanced at everyone who was moving in silence in the room. 

While the others packed, Mingyu sat on the edge of the bed, body angled towards Wonwoo, with one hand resting lightly against Wonwoo’s back. 

“You doing okay?” Mingyu asked softly. 

“A little…” Wonwoo swallowed. “With you guys around, it felt less scary.” 

“I know,” Mingyu’s voice turned a tad gentler. “Which is why I’m here, we’re here. And now, let’s get you to change into a new set of clothes before we head out.” 

Wonwoo gave a slight nod before holding onto Mingyu’s hands and rising from the bed, walking in small steps towards the bathroom. With Mingyu waiting outside, Wonwoo took some time to get changed and retreated back to the bed while others were still packing. 

As they worked, the boys watched the pair without speaking a word. 

Jeonghan noticed how Wonwoo’s hand searched for Mingyu’s whenever anxiety rose. 

Chan noticed how Mingyu automatically shifted closer whenever Wonwoo breathed too fast. 

Hoshi and Jihoon exchanged a glance that said, “Wonwoo trusts him more than anyone else.”

But they respected the quiet moment. They simply worked around them, forming a soft, safe bubble. 

By the time they were done packing, it was 30 minutes later. The bags were neatly packed and zipped, placed near the door. 

“All done, hyung.” Chan dusted off his hands. 

“We’ll just carry all these,” Jeonghan placed his hand onto Wonwoo’s shoulder while he was still sitting on the bed. “You just follow Mingyu.” 

Wonwoo looked at them, and emotions welled up so fast it burned the back of his throat. 

“Thank you… all of you…” He gave a slight smile as he looked at them. 

“We’re your people,” Jihoon ruffled Wonwoo’s hair. “We show up.” 

Mingyu’s hands slid down Wonwoo’s back, warm and steady. “Ready to go?”

“Y…yeah,” Wonwoo took a breath, not steady, not brave. But with Mingyu beside, it felt survivable. 

And when Wonwoo stood up from the bed, he automatically reached for Mingyu’s hands, who intertwined their fingers immediately. 

The boys saw it, but none of them said a word. They simply gathered the bags and fell into formation around him, protective and patient. 

Walking to the car park, Wonwoo gripped hold of Mingyu’s fingers tightly, eyes darting everywhere. “Don’t worry, my love.” His heart jumped a little too fast at my love and leaned even closer to Mingyu. 

Jeonghan unlocked the vehicle with a soft beep and put all the bags in the boot of the car. 

“Wonwoo, second row.” Jeonghan said gently, “You’ll feel more comfortable.” 

Wonwoo nodded and stepped in slowly. Mingyu climbed in right after him, leaving enough space between them but not enough for Wonwoo to feel alone. Their shoulders brushed as Mingyu buckled Wonwoo’s seatbelt for him with gentle movements. 

Lowering his gaze, Wonwoo’s cheeks turned red at the contact. 

“All ready?” Hoshi sat in the passenger seat, glancing back briefly. With scattered yesses, the engine started and the car rolled down the street. 

Everything was good, and Wonwoo had started to feel sleepy from the tension of the morning. He was about to lean onto Mingyu’s shoulder when a sudden honk from a nearby truck made him flinch. But this time, instead of panicking, Wonwoo pressed closer to Mingyu instinctively, his forehead onto Mingyu’s shoulder for a split second. Mingyu froze only to soften immediately, turning slightly so Wonwoo could lean against him comfortably. 

“You’re okay,” Mingyu whispered. “I’ve got you, I’m here.” 

Wonwoo’s fingers tightened around his. 

From the third row, Chan exhaled softly, “Hyung trusts Mingyu hyung.” 

“That’s more than trust,” Jihoon nodded at the sight. 

Hoshi looked back and saw the pair huddling together, watching how Wonwoo sought warmth and security with Mingyu. “They’re already halfway there,”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan’s gaze fixed on the road and whispered, “And I think this time… Wonwoo finally knows he deserves it.” 

Driving down the road, Wonwoo knows that it’s not going to be easy, but with Mingyu (and friends) around. It will be better. 

Be there for me?
Will you?