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"Lily unnie, you can't just say that on camera!"
Jiwoo's scandalized shriek cut through the studio air, followed by Jinsol's cackle and Lily's confused giggling. The host was doubled over, clutching his microphone stand for support, while the staff behind the cameras were doing a terrible job of hiding their own grins.
Yoona watched the chaos unfold from the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, a lazy smile playing on her lips. The main seats were a disaster zone of giggles and exaggerated gasps — Lily had apparently just confessed to something that would definitely make the editors' jobs interesting tonight.
Yoona had been half-watching, half-zoning out, her gaze drifting between the commotion and the warm studio lights. Kyujin was on her right, cross-legged and bouncing slightly in her seat, clearly fighting the urge to jump into the main conversation. Every few seconds, Kyujin would lean forward, open her mouth, then catch herself and lean back, her energy barely contained.
A weight settled against her left shoulder, Yoona glanced over.
Haewon's head was resting against her.
Yoona's brain took a full three seconds to process what she was seeing. Haewon's eyes were closed, her breathing was slow, body slack against Yoona's side, her weight settling heavily and warmly against her left arm.
Yoona's heart launched itself into her throat.
Her eyes darted frantically to the cameras. The main one was still trained on the chaos in the center — Lily had somehow roped the host into a dance battle, and Jiwoo was burying her face in her hands in secondhand embarrassment. The wide shots were angled toward the group, but from this angle, Haewon's sleeping face would be visible.
Yoona's first instinct was to jostle her awake, to gently nudge her before anyone noticed. She started to shift her shoulder–
Haewon made a tiny sound. A soft, sleepy hum of protest and then she burrowed deeper.
She felt Haewon's nose press into the curve of her neck, felt the soft brush of her breath against her skin, warm and steady and so close that Yoona's entire body went rigid.
Yoona's face flushed hot. Her pulse was hammering so loudly she was certain the boom mic would pick it up. Every nerve ending in her body was suddenly hyper-aware of the exact spot where Haewon's lips were hovering, the way her breath ghosted across Yoona's collarbone with each slow exhale.
This is fine. This is completely fine. I'm not going to pass out. I'm not–
Haewon hummed again, softer this time, and her fingers curled loosely against Yoona's sleeve. Her whole body seemed to melt against Yoona's side, seeking warmth, comfort.
She's like a cat, Yoona thought, her panic slowly giving way to something softer. A little kitten who acts all tough and independent but curls up against the nearest warm thing when she's unconscious.
Fake tough girl, look at you… you're so cute it's ridiculous.
She didn't have the heart to wake the leader up but the cameras pointing at them could be a problem; if the wide shot panned just a few degrees to the left–
Yoona lifted her hand slowly and hovered over Haewon's face. Then, with the gentleness of someone handling something impossibly precious, she cupped her palm near Haewon's cheek, shielding her from view. From this angle, the cameras would only see Yoona's hand — not Haewon's slack expression, not the tiny pout of her lips, not the vulnerability she'd never want anyone to see.
If she woke up and saw herself on screen like this, she'd be mortified. She'd never let herself sleep again. She'd probably kill me.
So she kept her hand there, a protective barrier between Haewon and the rest of the world.
She adjusted her posture — just a fraction, just enough to make her shoulder a more comfortable pillow. The movement was so minute that Haewon didn't even twitch. If anything, she seemed to sink deeper into sleep, her body trusting Yoona completely.
She looked down at her leader again, Haewon's eyelashes were dark against her cheeks, casting tiny shadows in the warm studio light. Her lips were slightly parted, her brow smooth and untroubled. The faint dark circles under her eyes were still visible, a reminder of how little sleep she'd been getting. But in this moment, she looked peaceful. Restful. Young.
Yoona's breath caught. There was something about the way Haewon's face had softened completely, the way all her sharp edges had melted away, that made Yoona's heart do strange, fluttering things.
She's beautiful.
Yoona felt her cheeks warm. She wanted to brush the stray strand of hair from Haewon's face. She wanted to trace the curve of her cheek with her fingertips. She wanted to press a kiss to her forehead and whisper endless praise. She wanted to protect this moment forever, to freeze time and keep Haewon safe and warm and untroubled.
But they were still at work, cameras all around them, so she just stayed still, a pillar of support.
"Rest well," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I've got you."
Kyujin noticed a few minutes later.
The main conversation had finally calmed down — the host had managed to wrangle Lily back into her seat and Jiwoo was fanning herself with her hand like she'd just survived a near-death experience. Jinsol was sipping water, her expression a mixture of amusement and exhaustion.
Kyujin leaned back on the sofa, finally giving up on joining the fray. She stretched her arms above her head, cracked her neck, and turned to whisper something to Yoona.
Her jaw dropped.
"Yoona unn-"
"Shh." Yoona's whisper was sharp, urgent. Her free hand came up in a shushing motion. "Don't wake her up."
Kyujin's eyes were wide as saucers. She leaned in, taking in the scene — Haewon curled against Yoona's shoulder, Yoona's hand shielding her face, the both of them frozen like they were posing for a painting.
"She's sleeping? On you? During—" Kyujin gestured wildly at the cameras. "How long has she been like this?"
"Just a few minutes," Yoona whispered back. "She's exhausted. She hasn't slept properly in days. We shouldn't wake her up, Kyujin, she needs this."
Kyujin's expression shifted from shock to something else entirely. Her bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout, her cat-like eyes widening with theatrical betrayal.
"That's not fair!" she whined, her voice a hushed but indignant whisper. "I want cuddles too!"
Before Yoona could react, Kyujin was already moving. She shifted closer on the sofa, then promptly flopped sideways, her head landing squarely on Yoona's right shoulder with absolutely zero grace.
"Kyujin–" Yoona hissed.
"Shh," Kyujin mimicked, her eyes already squeezed shut. "I'm sleeping. Don't wake me up."
"You're not even tired!"
"I'm exhausted. Emotionally. You're withholding cuddles from me. That's very draining."
Yoona stared down at the top of Kyujin's head. The younger girl had already tucked herself against Yoona's side, her body warm and wiggly, her fingers patting Yoona's arm contentedly.
Yoona sighed fondly at her.
"Fine, use me as a pillow too."
Kyujin lasted there for about five minutes.
She shifted restlessly against Yoona's shoulder, her head bouncing slightly as she tried to find a comfortable position. Her fingers drummed against Yoona's arm, her legs started to swing.
"This is boring," she mumbled, her voice muffled against Yoona's sleeve. "I can't see anything from here."
Kyujin lifted her head, squinting toward the main seats. "Ooh, Jiwoo unnie is doing something funny. I want to see."
"So go see."
"I'm comfortable though." Kyujin wiggled, then sighed dramatically. "But I'm also missing everything. This is a dilemma."
Yoona bit back a smile. "Sounds like a you problem."
"You're no help." Kyujin sat up fully, stretching her arms above her head. She glanced at Haewon, still fast asleep on Yoona's other side, and her expression softened. "Okay, fine. You can have Haewon unnie, I'm going to go be where the action is."
"Gee, thanks for your permission."
Kyujin grinned, already half-standing. "You're welcome." She paused, then leaned in close. "But seriously. If you ever need a break from being a cat bed, I'm available. Just saying."
Before Yoona could respond, Kyujin had bounced off the sofa and was weaving her way toward the main seats. Yoona watched her go, shaking her head.
Haewon hadn't stirred at all during Kyujin's entire performance. She was still completely asleep, her face peaceful, her body warm against Yoona's side.
She didn't even notice, Yoona thought. She's really, truly out.
She felt a rush of tenderness so strong it almost hurt.
The recording wrapped around thirty minutes later.
The studio erupted into chaos — staff members moving equipment, members stretching and chatting, the general post-shoot decompression. Kyujin was already bouncing over to Lily, her voice carrying across the room as she recounted something that had happened during the interview.
The sudden noise was like a splash of cold water and Haewon's eyes flew open.
She blinked rapidly, disoriented, her body still pressed against Yoona's. For a moment, she seemed to have no idea where she was. Then her gaze focused on Yoona's face — so close, so warm — and she realized.
She was using Yoona as a pillow.
Her face went white. Then red. Then white again.
"Ah–"
She launched herself off the sofa like she'd been electrocuted. She stumbled backward, nearly tripping over her own feet, her hands flying up in front of her face like she was trying to hide from the entire world.
"I– you– that–" Haewon's voice was a strangled squeak. "I wasn't– I didn't mean to–"
"Unnie–" Yoona started, reaching out.
But Haewon was already backing away, her eyes wide and panicked, her cheeks burning so brightly they looked painful.
"I have to– I need to– there's something–" She was already turning, already fleeing, her words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "Right. Goodbye."
And then she was gone, running toward the dressing room like the hounds of hell were chasing her.
Yoona's hand was still in the air, reaching for someone who was no longer there.
She stared at the empty space where Haewon had been: the spot on her shoulder was still warm and the ghost of Haewon's breath still lingered on her neck.
Well, she thought. That's one way to wake up.
She slowly lowered her hand. A smile tugged at her lips — fond, exasperated, completely besotted.
Yoona felt multiple gazes on her, and she already had an idea of who it could be before turning towards them.
The members had seen the whole thing, of course they had.
"There's footage, right?" Jiwoo asked, turning to the staff. "Please tell me there's footage."
The staff members exchanged glances. One of them — the camera operator who had been on wide shot — gave a tiny, guilty nod.
Jiwoo pumped her fist. "YES."
"Someone's going to have to tell Haewon unnie about that later," Jinsol observed. "Preferably from a safe distance."
"Or via text," Lily suggested. "So she can't hit anyone."
"Smart."
Kyujin turned to Yoona, grinning. "You okay over there? Your arm still functioning?"
Yoona stretched her shoulder, wincing slightly at the stiffness. "I think so. A little numb, but I'll be fine"
She looked toward the dressing room door, where Haewon had disappeared. She could imagine what was happening in there — Haewon pacing, burying her face in her hands, trying to figure out how to avoid Yoona for the rest of her life.
So cute, Yoona thought. So, so cute.
She stood up, stretching properly now. Her arm ached. Her shoulder was stiff. But she was smiling.
"Alright," she said, her voice carrying across the studio. "Who's going to go rescue our leader from her own embarrassment?"
Jiwoo's hand shot up. "Me!!!! I volunteer, I want to see her face."
"Be gentle," Yoona said.
Jiwoo's grin was pure mischief. "No promises."
She bounced toward the dressing room, her laughter echoing behind her.
Yoona followed after , her steps light, her heart full.