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After five years together, Jimmy knows Sea with the same certainty he knows the sun will rise tomorrow. Sea’s habits are constants in his life—steady, familiar, and endlessly dear.
Sea is curled against him now, half-asleep and clinging as naturally as breathing. An arm around Jimmy’s waist, a leg thrown over his. Sea has always loved contact—hugs, kisses, a hand on his back—anything that tells him he’s safe, wanted, held. Jimmy learned this long before they ever became boyfriends, back when they were just colleagues sharing call times and cramped dressing rooms. It hasn’t changed. Sea’s clinginess is simply part of him, sharpened by love.
Jimmy also knows the drawbacks: the dramatic sulking over nothing, the way Sea makes sure everyone can feel he’s sulking, and how easily the entire mood dissolves the moment Jimmy brushes his lips against his cheek. The easy offense, the even easier reconciliation. And the conflict avoidance—so strong it used to make Jimmy grind his teeth in their early days working together. Sea would rather fold in on himself than say “no,” even when it hurt him.
But anger? Genuine, explosive anger? That isn’t Sea. He’ll raise his voice when he’s telling a story. He’ll shout while teasing friends or siblings. But real fury—raw and sharp—is almost unheard of.
Which is exactly why Jimmy can’t forget the one time someone managed to break that boundary.
The one time Sea shouted not out of excitement, not out of chaos, but out of pain and frustration. The one time someone pushed him too hard, took advantage of his kindness one time too many—and Sea finally snapped.
Jimmy’s jaw still tightens when he thinks about it.
He pulls Sea a little closer now, thumb brushing along the curve of his back in a slow, grounding motion.
He’ll never let anything like that happen again.
🌸
Three months ago
The first sign Jimmy had that something was off that morning was waking up with Sea still in his arms. Sea was an early riser—painfully early. By seven he was usually already stretching, working out, or doing whatever productive ritual made him feel accomplished before most people even opened their eyes. Finding him still in bed, tucked neatly against Jimmy’s chest, was unusual enough to make Jimmy’s instincts sharpen.
Without thinking, he pressed the back of his hand to Sea’s forehead. Old habits. Medical training. Protectiveness he never fully controlled.
Sea giggled softly, the kind of sleepy sound that vibrated against Jimmy’s collarbone. He was awake, just stubbornly refusing to move.
“Are you okay?” Jimmy asked, tilting Sea’s chin up so he could see his face. It wasn’t that Sea would lie—Sea was terrible at lying, especially to him—but Jimmy could read entire stories in those eyes, the same eyes that had undone him years before they ever started dating.
Sea hesitated, searching for a reason he didn’t quite have. Then he burrowed closer, fitting himself into Jimmy’s embrace like he was trying to disappear into it. Out of all the places in the world, Jimmy’s arms were the safest—second only to his parents’. And Jimmy felt the weight of that trust settle against his ribs.
“Nothing in particular,” Sea murmured. “Maybe I had a bad dream? I don’t remember, but I woke up with… this feeling.” Negative. Heavy. Unshakable.
Jimmy softened. He tightened his hold and kissed Sea’s temple, gentle but certain.
“Your Hia Jim will take care of it, then.”
Sea smiled faintly against his throat, letting himself be held—unusual, yes, but welcome.
And Jimmy, who always paid attention, felt the first quiet warning in his gut: something had unsettled Sea long before morning came.
🌸
The second sign came barely an hour later.
They had just stepped into the GMMTV building, coffee in hand, scripts in Jimmy’s backpack, and Sea looking a little more grounded than he had upon waking. But only a few minutes passed before one of the staff pulled them aside with a hesitant expression.
Sea’s manager—Pat, the man who had taken care of him long before Jimmy ever had the chance—had been in a motorcycle accident. A fractured leg. Surgery scheduled. Recovery estimated at three months, minimum.
Sea froze. The chill that ran through him felt eerily similar to the heavy feeling he’d woken with. Like the day had been warning him in advance.
Jimmy watched the way Sea’s shoulders curled inward, the way his breath stuttered just slightly. Sea didn’t panic, not visibly, but the quiet fear in his eyes told Jimmy everything.
“Let’s call him,” Jimmy said softly.
They stepped aside into an empty corner of the lobby. Sea held his phone with both hands, thumbs trembling just enough that Jimmy covered one of them with his own. On the third ring, Pat answered, voice strained but joking immediately—trying to spare Sea worry, as he always did.
Sea nearly sagged with relief at the sound.
“P’Pat! Are you okay? Does it hurt? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just a stupid fall. I’ll be back before you two even miss me.”
Jimmy could see how hard Pat was trying to keep Sea calm, and how hard Sea was trying not to let his emotions spill out. They both wished him a quick recovery, promised to visit him, reassured him he could rest without worrying about schedules.
When the call ended, Sea let out a slow breath, leaning slightly into Jimmy as if the adrenaline had finally caught up to him.
“Maybe… maybe that’s what I felt this morning,” Sea murmured.
Jimmy lifted a hand and threaded their fingers together.
“Maybe,” he said. But his instincts told him the day wasn’t done yet.
Not even close.
🌸
The third sign arrived with the new temporary manager.
Her name was Toey—forties, sharp-eyed, clipped tone, no smile, no warmth, no effort to put anyone at ease. Efficient to the point of being abrasive. Jimmy could handle that. He’d worked with far worse personalities. Sea, however, lived off gentleness, banter, familiarity. This was going to be… a mismatch. But temporary. Manageable.
Or so Jimmy assumed.
They went through introductions, schedules, a rapid list of expectations delivered without pause or softness. Toey talked as if she’d known them for years and as if she liked neither of them. Sea nodded through it all, polite as always, though Jimmy noticed the stiff line of his shoulders.
It wasn’t until Toey walked off, barking instructions at someone else, that Sea finally exhaled. Jimmy expected him to say something mild—“She’s intense,” or “I’m not used to her style.” Some gentle, diplomatic critique.
Instead, the moment they were alone, Sea muttered under his breath:
“I hate her.”
Jimmy actually blinked.
Sea didn’t say things like that. Not even privately. Not even when someone genuinely annoyed him. Sea, who forgave too quickly, who excused too easily, who avoided harsh words as if they could hurt him on their way out.
Hate was not a word that came from Sea lightly. Or ever.
Jimmy turned to look at him fully, studying the unusual tension in his expression—tight mouth, lowered brows, a flicker of something almost… defensive. It was so startling that Jimmy felt the first prickle of unease at the back of his neck.
He should have recognized it immediately.
If Sea disliked someone without reason, it was never baseless. Sea’s instincts about people were sharp—quieter than Jimmy’s, but often more accurate.
For Sea to hate someone on sight…
It meant trouble.
And Jimmy, who didn’t ignore warning signs, felt the day shift again—like the air tightening, like the earlier heaviness suddenly making sense.
Something was coming.
And Toey was going to be at the center of it.
🌸
For an entire week, everything appeared… fine.
Suspiciously fine.
Sea showed up on time, followed Toey’s instructions, completed his individual schedules without visible difficulty. He didn’t complain, didn’t sulk, didn’t even roll his eyes behind her back. He was quiet, focused, polite. Almost too polite.
So polite that Jimmy started to doubt himself.
Maybe he’d overreacted. Maybe Toey was just blunt, not harmful. Maybe Sea’s instinctive dislike had been a moment of stress, or the lingering worry about Pat’s accident.
Jimmy watched him carefully those days. Sea wasn’t smiling much, but he wasn’t frowning either. He kept his distance from Toey, but not in a dramatic way. Just… enough.
For joint activities, Jimmy was with Joel—his own manager, familiar, easy to work with. More than once, Jimmy considered offering Sea a trade. Let Sea work under Joel for a while; at least he’d be comfortable, supported, known.
But Jimmy also knew how Sea thought: he wouldn’t accept. Sea hated making people feel unwanted, hated causing extra work, hated implying someone wasn’t good enough. And Jimmy couldn’t shield him from every difficult personality he would meet in this industry. Learning to deal with someone he didn’t like was part of the job, part of life.
Still… the silence bothered Jimmy.
After that one rare, jarring statement—“I hate her”—Sea said nothing. No complaints, no sarcastic comments, no subtle passive-aggressive jokes that only Jimmy would catch.
He behaved.
And Jimmy couldn’t decide if that was good… or if it was very, very bad.
Because when Sea was happy, he showed it openly.
When Sea was upset, he sulked adorably.
When Sea was overwhelmed, he retreated quietly.
But when Sea said nothing at all?
That meant something was building.
Something Sea didn’t want to admit.
Something he was trying to swallow down.
And Jimmy, who knew Sea as well as he knew his own heartbeat, felt the slow, creeping tension hidden beneath the surface.
He just didn’t know yet what Toey had done to cause it.
🌸
One evening, on one of their rare free nights, everything felt perfect.
They had cooked dinner together—slow, domestic, familiar—and then spent the rest of the night tangled in each other, pleasure blooming into tenderness. Now they lay curled up in bed, sheets warm, limbs intertwined, Sea resting against Jimmy’s chest. The room smelled of sweat, skin, and the lingering sweetness of intimacy.
It was the safest moment Jimmy could choose.
“So,” he murmured, stroking Sea’s back, “Toey. How’s it going?”
Sea didn’t answer.
Not immediately.
Not naturally.
He went still for a beat too long—long enough for Jimmy’s stomach to tighten.
Sea was considering. Weighing. Deciding if he should tell the truth.
The same horrible feeling Jimmy had felt that first morning tightened around his ribs again.
“I still hate her,” Sea finally said, calm, almost too calm, tracing lazy shapes on Jimmy’s chest—the same chest now scattered with fresh hickeys Sea had left only an hour earlier.
Jimmy kept his voice light. “Is there anything else you want to say?”
Because Sea was many things—gentle, conflict-avoidant, endlessly forgiving—but with Jimmy, he gossiped freely. He never spoke cruelly about people, but he loved sharing stories, venting, processing. Silence was not his default.
Sea hesitated again.
Then, with a soft sigh:
“…P’Pat left her a list of instructions to follow. I don’t think she read a single one.”
Jimmy’s hand paused.
Sea continued, voice steady but edged with something Jimmy rarely heard in him—frustration.
“She keeps accepting flowers from fans and passing them to me even though I’m allergic. I’ve tried to tell her, but it’s hard to talk to her. She doesn’t listen. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.”
He shifted slightly, snuggling closer as if the warmth helped him stay composed.
“I told her to leave a bottle of water out of the fridge for me, ready before shoots. You know I can’t drink things that are too cold. But she keeps giving me icy ones. Every day.” A brief pause. “They always freeze.”
Jimmy’s jaw tightened.
Sea swallowed, as if embarrassed by his own complaints.
“I want to believe she isn’t doing it on purpose,” he said, quieter now. “That it’s just lack of experience. But… she’s so stiff. So rigid. Like everything has to be her way.”
He looked up at Jimmy then—big, earnest eyes full of a hurt he didn’t want to call hurt.
“I don’t think non professionalism is the problem.”
Jimmy exhaled very slowly.
Because if Sea was saying this?
If Sea—who endured, adapted, forgave—was admitting resentment?
Something wasn’t just wrong.
Something was crossing a line.
And Jimmy felt the first spark of anger kindle in his chest, quiet but unmistakable.
“Sea,” he said softly, thumb brushing his cheek, “tell me everything.”
🌸
Jimmy knew better than anyone how difficult it was for Sea to voice his boundaries. Saying no went against his nature, and expressing discomfort felt like conflict—something Sea avoided unless absolutely necessary. Jimmy also knew he couldn’t speak for him. He couldn’t swoop in and fix the situation every time someone dismissed Sea’s needs, even if every instinct in him wanted to.
Sea was an adult, a professional, a man who had survived far worse than an incompetent manager. And Toey hadn’t done anything egregious yet—annoying, careless, yes, but nothing that justified Jimmy stepping in as the overprotective boyfriend. P’Pat would return in a month. Sea just had to endure a little longer.
Or so Jimmy believed.
Until that day arrived.
It was a recording day for a brand, a sponsorship gig they both enjoyed—light energy, good staff, lots of food. Joel wasn’t on duty, so the logistics, travel, and coordination were fully in Toey’s hands.
The morning unfolded unusually well.
Toey picked them up exactly on time.
Traffic was smooth.
They arrived early.
Makeup was quick.
The briefing went smoothly.
Jimmy had quietly tucked a room-temperature bottle of water into his bag for Sea, fully expecting Toey to forget again. He wasn’t surprised when she did.
But Sea was in a good mood. This particular brand event was known for spoiling their artists with food, and both of them were shameless gluttons. The promise of endless snacks could soothe almost any irritation.
Jimmy even caught Sea chatting politely with Toey, double-checking that she had passed all necessary information to the organizers. Toey looked almost offended that anyone doubted her but confirmed— curtly —that she had handled it. The attitude didn’t escape Jimmy’s notice. Or Sea’s, judging by the slight wrinkle between his brows.
Still, they powered through.
Everything was fine.
Until it wasn’t.
Until everything fell apart.
About halfway through the recording, ten minutes after they began sampling dishes for the camera, Jimmy suddenly couldn’t breathe.
Not metaphorically.
Not emotionally.
Air.
Real air.
Stopped reaching his lungs.
His chest tightened sharply, his throat constricting as if an invisible hand had wrapped around it. He felt heat rush under his skin, his vision blurring for a split second.
The world tilted.
He heard Sea’s laugh next to him—light, happy, unaware—before it abruptly cut off.
And Sea turned just in time to see Jimmy’s expression change.
The moment Jimmy’s breath vanished, Sea’s entire world snapped in two.
🌸
Jimmy was a doctor—a practicing dermatologist and an actor—but first and foremost, he understood the human body with trained instinct. So the moment he regained consciousness, clarity struck like ice water.
He had gone into anaphylactic shock.
His throat was raw, his muscles ached from the violent reaction, and a dull, exhausted heaviness clung to his limbs. His vision steadied slowly, settling on the room around him—an emergency suite, monitors still attached, sterile smell prickling his senses.
Then he saw Sea.
Sea sat slumped in a chair beside the bed, asleep from sheer exhaustion. His eyes were swollen and red even in rest, traces of dried tears marking his cheeks. There were blotchy patches along his face, neck, and arms—signs of a reaction. A milder one, thank God, but a reaction nonetheless.
Sea had been allergic to shrimp his whole life. Jimmy knew the signs. The redness, the puffiness, the slight wheeze in his breathing that even sleep didn’t hide. Sea must have injected himself with adrenaline—he always carried an EpiPen—then stayed awake long enough to make sure Jimmy survived his own collapse.
Jimmy’s stomach twisted.
This wasn’t an accident.
This wasn’t bad luck.
This wasn’t “one of those things.”
This was negligence so severe it bordered on criminal.
It was Toey’s job—her primary responsibility—to inform the event organizers of their allergies. Serious allergies. Ones that could kill.
Sea’s shrimp allergy was severe enough to be life-threatening.
Jimmy’s soy allergy wasn’t as dangerous unless he consumed large quantities. But that was exactly what had happened. Every dish he’d tasted had been laced with soy sauce, hidden under spices and flavors. He hadn’t noticed because he’d trusted the system around him—trusted that the proper information had been relayed.
Toey hadn’t done it.
Or worse—she’d ignored it.
Jimmy felt heat surge beneath his skin, a rare fury building in his chest. Not panic. Not fear.
Rage.
He turned his head slightly, looking at Sea again. At the marks on his skin. At the exhaustion clinging to him. At the silent evidence of how close they had come.
Jimmy’s voice, when it finally emerged, was hoarse, low, and colder than he’d ever heard himself sound.
This wasn’t incompetence anymore.
This wasn’t “a bad manager.”
This was a line crossed so violently that someone could have died.
He inhaled carefully, grim determination settling into every muscle.
Jimmy had had enough.
This was no longer just unprofessional.
This was dangerous.
And Jimmy was done letting anyone put Sea—or himself—in harm’s way.
🌸
When Joel and Toey entered the room, Sea had finally woken up, and Jimmy had finally pieced together the full horror of what had happened.
He was alive only because Sea—his babe, gentle, non-confrontational Sea—had recognized the signs faster than anyone else and injected him with his own EpiPen. Sea hadn’t even realized he was reacting too, not until the ambulance arrived and his breathing turned sharp, wheezing, dangerous. The paramedics had acted quickly, dosing Sea with adrenaline and rushing both of them to the hospital.
Later, Jimmy learned the truth: several dishes had contained fish sauce made with shrimp. The smell and taste had been masked so thoroughly that neither of them, focused on the recording, had noticed.
Jimmy felt his heartbeat stutter violently when he realized Sea had used his life-saving injection on him first—saving him while unknowingly letting his own reaction escalate until help arrived.
The thought nearly made Jimmy shake apart.
He had pulled Sea into a tight, silent embrace and held him there until his pulse settled into something almost steady. Sea leaned into him with the same exhausted relief.
This was beyond unacceptable. Beyond excuse.
When they finally let go, Jimmy turned toward the door, ready to unleash every ounce of fury he had kept restrained for Sea’s sake. He was prepared to yell, to demand answers, to threaten legal action if he had to. Toey had been negligent from the start, but this—this was dangerous, reckless disregard. This was criminal.
But he didn’t get the chance.
Sea stood first.
His lips were still swollen, his skin blotched with red patches, eyes puffy from crying or the reaction—maybe both. He looked fragile. Shaken.
But his expression was unreadably calm.
Too calm.
He walked toward the door with small, steady steps. No shaking hands. No trembling voice. No dramatic build-up.
Jimmy felt his blood run cold.
Toey, for the first time since they’d met her, looked genuinely distressed. Her face was pale, stiff with guilt or fear or both.
Sea stopped in front of her.
Silence.
Everyone watched him, expecting words. A reprimand. A quiet plea. Something in line with who Sea was.
Sea lifted his hand.
And slapped her.
The crack echoed through the hospital room, sharp and shocking, ripping the air apart.
Toey froze. Joel froze. The nurses froze.
Jimmy froze.
Sea, who avoided conflict.
Sea, who never raised his voice.
Sea, who apologized too much.
Sea, who forgave too easily.
Sea had slapped her.
Calmly. Cleanly. Without hesitation.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t curse.
He didn’t even look angry.
He simply lowered his hand, tears gathering but refusing to fall.
“You could have killed him,” Sea said quietly.
His voice didn’t shake.
That somehow hurt Jimmy more than anything else in the world.
🌸
Sea’s hand shot out like a whip, grabbing Toey’s arm with a violence that made her stumble. Jimmy immediately jumped out of bed, heart hammering, because this wasn’t his calm, composed Sea. This was someone unrecognizable—driven by fear, anger, and the sheer horror of what could have happened.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?!” Sea screamed, voice breaking, echoing off the sterile walls. “Do you have any ideawhat it means to ignore my warnings? To ignore our lives?!”
Toey’s face went pale as Sea’s grip tightened. He was shaking, his entire body taut with adrenaline, eyes wide and blazing with raw fury. Jimmy pressed close, holding Sea’s wrist, but the man was beyond restraint. Joel stepped in, arms outstretched to separate them, but Sea was deaf to reason.
“I didn’t say anything when you continued to ignore my requests—even though it’s part of your job!” Sea’s voice cut like steel. “Water, food, a blanket, pollen allergy pills because you kept giving me flowers after I told you I’m allergic! I ignored your ignorance and unprofessionalism!”
He shook Toey’s arm violently. “I ignored your veiled, disgusting comments about my relationship with Hia Jim, about how wrong, unprofessional, and wrong it was—all the damned jabs you thought I wasn’t noticing!”
Jimmy's heart sank again, Sea had never told him these details.
“I ignored everything to keep the peace!” Sea continued, voice rising into a terrifying scream. “And I asked you one thing, three times: to be careful with the list of allergies—because both Hia Jim and I have them! And to speak to the organizers!” He shook her arm again, hard enough that Toey flinched in real fear. “You even confirmed that you spoke to them!”
Sea’s body was trembling violently, chest heaving, eyes wide with terror and fury. “This is a damned attempted murder! Do you realize that?! Did you ever stop to think about what could happen if I wasn’t fast enough? Hia would have died in my arms!”
Toey shrank back, jaw slack, utterly paralyzed. Joel tried to intervene, placing a hand on Sea’s shoulder, but the fury and panic in him were unstoppable. Jimmy pressed close, arms around him, whispering, “ Sea… I’ve got you. I'm okay. You’re okay. We're okay."
But Sea’s panic didn’t abate. His screams continued, his body shaking violently, his mind replaying every moment that could have ended in disaster. Then, as he turned to storm out, overwhelmed by adrenaline and fear, the world spun violently around him. His legs gave out. His last breath before collapsing was a strangled, “I… I can’t…”
Jimmy caught him mid-fall, cradling him against his chest as Sea went limp, pale, and trembling, finally overcome by the sheer magnitude of everything that had happened. His heart raced uncontrollably, his body quaking—not from anger now, but sheer shock.
“P’Joel,” Jimmy said, voice hard and steady despite the chaos, “call the police. No matter what. After everything—after seeing him like this, after everything that put our lives at risk—I’m pressing charges. Sea is right, maybe something else could have been considered careless or negligent in everyday terms, but not this, in the eyes of the law? It is attempted murder. That’s exactly what this was.”
Joel’s jaw dropped. “Jimmy… we—shouldn’t we talk to the GMMTV directors first?”
Jimmy shook his head, eyes locked on Sea as he gently laid him back in bed, checking that he was breathing steadily. “No. There’s no excuse. None. After what we’ve seen today? I’m done waiting. This cannot go unpunished.”
Toey was cowering in the corner now, hands shaking, tears streaming down her face. “I—I didn’t mean… I’m so sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know it would… please forgive me!” Her voice cracked, a panicked, high-pitched whine as she sank to the floor, trying to make herself smaller under the weight of her guilt.
Joel hesitated, speechless, while Jimmy adjusted the blanket around Sea and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Sea’s chest rose and fell slowly, still trembling, still unconscious, but alive—and for Jimmy, that was enough to fuel the resolve blazing behind his eyes.
“I don’t care what anyone says,” he muttered, voice low, grim, as Toey continued sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m pressing charges. No exceptions. No excuses.”
🌸
Jimmy and Sea spent the whole day in the hospital. The harsh fluorescent lights, the antiseptic smell, the constant beeping of monitors—it all felt unreal, a backdrop to a nightmare that neither of them would ever forget. Joel had rushed to GMMTV to report the situation and Jimmy’s intentions. By now it was clear that nothing would stop him, but he would at least want confirmation from their boss that moving forward legally was approved.
Toey had fallen to her knees in the lobby, begging, crying, pleading for forgiveness, until a security guard finally arrived and escorted her out. Her desperate wails echoed faintly down the hallway, but Jimmy didn’t flinch. There was no mercy for negligence that nearly cost him and Sea their lives.
Sea had stirred in bed, eyes fluttering open, confusion and fear clouding his vision. And then he saw Jimmy. In that instant, the dam broke. He threw himself into Jimmy’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Oh my God! You’re alive! I dreamed you were gone."
His tears soaked Jimmy’s shirt, shaking against him as if clinging to the only thing that kept him tethered to reality.
Jimmy held him tightly, heart breaking at the raw vulnerability, the panic, the relief—and yes, the anger that still lingered somewhere beneath the surface.
“I’m here, baby,” he murmured into his hair, pressing soft kisses against his temple and shoulders. “I’m right here. You’re safe. I'm okay. We’re okay.”
Sea clung to him as if Jimmy were the only solid thing left in the world. Every tremble, every gasp, every wet, desperate sob spoke of the terror he had carried alone until it erupted in the hospital room. Jimmy hated the fact that even if they resolved everything legally, even if the guilty party faced consequences, this day would leave a scar—not just on Sea, but on himself.
He tightened his arms around Sea, whispering promises he didn’t know how to keep fully, but would try every day to honor.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you, Sea. I swear it. Not ever. You’re my world.”
Sea buried his face in Jimmy’s chest, sobs slowly quieting into quiet, shuddering breaths. Jimmy’s heart ached, but the fact that he was alive, that Sea was alive, was enough. For now, that was all that mattered.
🌸
Returning to the present
The directors hadn’t been happy with the decision, but Jimmy was ready to lose his entire career rather than back down from filing the complaint. Faced with his resolve—and with the mounting evidence—they had no choice but to agree. And now, today, the verdict would finally be delivered.
Jimmy didn’t particularly care that Toey would end up in prison for attempted murder; what enraged him was what the investigation had uncovered afterward. Prison felt almost merciful compared to what she had intended.
The police had retrieved messages sent to her sister—pages and pages detailing every aspect of Jimmy and Sea’s personal lives. Their schedule, their routines, their private plans, even sensitive information no one else had access to. Photos of Sea sleeping during breaks, taken without consent. Taunting captions. And worst of all, texts stating she knew about their allergies and didn’t care. She had wanted to see the reactions. She had wanted to watch them suffocate.
There was no doubt. The evidence was overwhelming. The verdict was certain.
Jimmy exhaled slowly, letting his eyes fall shut as if the darkness behind them could soften the weight pressing on his chest. The whole ordeal had carved a wound deeper than anything physical. Sea was naturally withdrawn, slow to trust, careful with his heart. It had taken months—years—for Jimmy to gently encourage him to lower those walls. Now, after everything, those walls had returned like mountains.
Sea lay curled against him in their bed, breathing soft and warm against Jimmy’s chest. Jimmy held him close, one arm around his shoulders, the other stroking his hair with slow, steady motions. His fury couldn’t coexist with Sea’s fragility; whenever he touched him, everything softened, focused into one instinct—protect.
He pressed a kiss to Sea’s forehead, lingering there. His absolute treasure. Shaken, scarred, but here. Alive.
Sea shifted slightly, eyelashes fluttering.
A small sound escaped him—half sigh, half complaint.
Jimmy felt it against his skin. “Morning,” he murmured quietly.
Sea hummed, eyes still half-closed. “You’re awake before me,” he whispered, genuinely surprised. “That’s… new.”
Jimmy brushed a thumb over his cheek. “You needed the rest.”
Sea blinked a few more times, then lifted his head just an inch. “…What time is it?”
“Ten.”
Sea’s expression sharpened instantly. “Ten?!”
He pushed himself up on an elbow. “Hia, that’s practically afternoon!”
Jimmy burst into a laugh he couldn’t hold back, his arms still looped securely around Sea’s waist so he didn’t actually go anywhere. “You look like you just witnessed the apocalypse.”
“Hia, I haven’t woken up this late in years.” Sea pressed a hand to his forehead as if dizzy. “Is this… is this a symptom? Should I be concerned?”
Jimmy pulled him right back down, chest to chest, trapping him with ease. “Yes. Grave condition. Medical name: oversleeping because your boyfriend held you too well.”
Sea squirmed, trying to slip out of his arms. “Let me go, we need to move, stretch, do something—”
“No,” Jimmy declared, tightening his hold until Sea let out a soft, surprised gasp. “You are not dragging me into morning exercises.”
“We always exercise in the morning!”
“You always exercise in the morning,” Jimmy corrected.
He felt Sea try again to push up, so Jimmy rolled them easily, pinning him beneath his chest in a full bear hug.
“Hia Jim—”
“Nope.”
Sea huffed. “You’re insufferable.”
Jimmy lowered his voice just enough for it to linger warmly between them. “I’m practical. And right now the only ‘exercise’ I’m willing to do the moment I wake up…”
A slow, unmistakably mischievous smile curved his lips.
“…is the kind that doesn’t require leaving this bed.”
Sea’s breath caught—not shocked, more flustered, cheeks warming.
Jimmy brushed his nose against his temple. “Good, invigorating morning exercise,” he murmured, deliberately teasing. “The kind you like.”
To reinforce his point, he slid one hand under the hem of Sea’s shirt—warm, slow, deliberate—resting it on his hip, thumb tracing lazy circles that made Sea shiver.
“Jimmy…”
“Yes?”
“You really expect me to believe you’re too tired for squats but not too tired for that?”
Jimmy kissed his jaw, soft but purposeful. “Absolutely.”
Sea tried to glare at him, but it melted almost instantly into a tiny, embarrassed smile. “You’re the worst.”
“And still your favorite,” Jimmy replied, tugging him closer until their foreheads touched.
Sea sighed, finally giving in and curling his arms around Jimmy’s neck. “Fine. No exercise.”
Jimmy smirked. “Oh, there will be exercise.”
Sea groaned into his shoulder. “I walked into that one.”
Jimmy held him tighter, laughter rumbling softly through his chest. “Yes, you did.”
They stayed tangled like that, warm and wrapped in each other, letting the morning—and everything outside their bed—wait a little longer.
🌸
The courtroom had been silent when the verdict was delivered, the kind of silence that presses on the skull and makes every breath feel too loud.
Five years.
Not for attempted murder.
Not for premeditation.
Not for the nightmare she had almost pulled them into.
Five years for negligence.
Five years for dangerous professional conduct.
Five years for recklessly endangering the lives of the artists she was paid to protect.
The prosecution had argued intent, but the judge had dismissed it. Even with the messages, even with the photos and the mockery, there was no evidence she had planned anything. No proof she had sought out the specific foods. No proof she had wanted the worst outcome.
It was cruelty.
It was indifference.
It was apathy sharpened into a weapon.
But not, legally, premeditation.
Jimmy didn’t care. Not even a little. Five years, ten years, twenty. The number didn’t matter. The point was simple:
She would never come near Sea again.
That alone let him breathe for the first time in months.
He squeezed Sea’s hand as they stepped out of the quiet hall and into the back exit reserved for staff. Sea had his hood up despite being indoors, fingers laced with Jimmy’s in a grip just a bit too tight.
They didn’t speak until they reached the car. Joel opened the door for them, worry etched all over his face, but not a word escaped him. He knew better than to touch this moment.
Sea slid into the back seat, leaning immediately into Jimmy’s side. Jimmy closed the door, shutting out the world.
Sea exhaled shakily. “Five years…”
“Five years she won’t be anywhere near us or anyone,” Jimmy replied, brushing a thumb along Sea’s cheekbone. “That’s enough for me.”
Sea looked down at their entwined hands. “Do you think we did the right thing?”
“We protected ourselves,” Jimmy said simply. “And we made sure she can’t hurt anyone else.”
Sea nodded, slow and small.
Joel started the car, but Jimmy leaned forward. “Back to our place. No GMMTV. No stops.”
Joel understood instantly. “Of course.”
As they drove, the city glided past the tinted windows unnoticed. Sea’s head found Jimmy’s shoulder, as naturally as breathing. Jimmy kissed the top of his hair, soft and lingering.
And then Sea whispered the words Jimmy had expected, dreaded, prepared for:
“No one knew, right?”
“No one,” Jimmy promised. “ Not even the staff outside the directors’ circle.”
Sea’s shoulders sagged in relief.
Good.
Good.
Let it stay their story alone, not a scandal headline. Not gossip. Not another trauma dissected by strangers on the internet.
Jimmy brushed his fingers up and down Sea’s arm, grounding him. “It’s over, Sea.”
Sea swallowed. “Really?”
Jimmy turned, taking his face in both hands, eyes steady. “Yes. It’s over.”
Sea blinked up at him, eyes glistening—not with fear this time, but with the fragile relief of someone who had been holding his breath far too long.
Jimmy pressed their foreheads together.
“No more courtrooms. No more statements. No more reliving it.”
His voice softened, a warm, private whisper meant only for Sea.
“From now on, it’s just us.”
Sea’s lips curved, the tiniest, exhausted smile. “Just us.”
Jimmy’s thumb brushed his cheek. “Exactly.”
And as the city slipped by outside, unknown and unaware, they held each other close, finally—finally—able to imagine their lives returning to peace.
🌸
Sea flopped onto the sofa, limbs sprawled like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. Jimmy plopped down beside him, and somehow they ended up tangled, blanket half over, legs intertwined.
Popcorn appeared. Sea made a dramatic show of grabbing the biggest handful. Jimmy grabbed it back.
“You always do this!” Sea groaned, tossing a kernel at him.
“Always what?” Jimmy said, catching it in his mouth with an exaggerated flourish.
“Steal popcorn!” Sea pointed at him, face mock-outraged.
Jimmy shrugged innocently. “It’s a skill.”
Sea flicked a kernel at him, Jimmy flicked one back. Soon they were laughing so hard kernels rained down like confetti. Sea ended up draped over Jimmy, and Jimmy’s hand tangled in Sea’s hair, tracing lazy circles on his shoulder.
Every so often, a playful shove or a poke would turn into a quick kiss. Every shared laugh felt like a little victory, a tiny rebellion against the months they’d spent holding their breath.
The movie played somewhere in the background, mostly ignored, but that didn’t matter. Popcorn in hand, laughter in the air, bodies pressed together—they were home. And finally, really, perfectly, together.