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Summary
Mark and Jeno exchanged a look — the kind of look that usually preceded a group chat intervention about Jaemin's tendency to adopt stray cats (and apparently stray humans).
"Jaemin," Mark said carefully, in the voice he used when he was trying very hard to be reasonable, "I don't think this is a good idea."
"He needs help," Jaemin said simply.
"Okay, yes, obviously he needs help, but maybe the kind of help that involves a hospital or the police or literally any authority figure besides three college students who can barely keep their own lives together?" Mark gestured vaguely at their surroundings. "What if he's dangerous? What if he escaped from somewhere? What if he's like— like a psycho from an asylum or something?"
The boy's eyes went wide at that, a flash of something that looked like hurt crossing his pale face. He clutched the blanket tighter, shrinking back against the couch cushions, and Jaemin felt his protective instincts kick into overdrive.