The first time you met Aiden, he felt like a breath of fresh air. His smile was soft, his words laced with sincerity, and his eyes—oh, those eyes—were warm pools of honey that seemed to melt away all your worries. He was perfect, almost too perfect, but you never dared question it. After all, wasn’t this what everyone wanted? Someone who understood you without words, someone who loved you so wholly and selflessly?
Aiden was the embodiment of devotion. He knew your coffee order by heart, memorized your class schedule within days, and always texted you right when it was needed most. If you were stressed after a long day, he’d already be waiting at the door with your favorite snacks and that soft, knowing smile. It was as if he could read your mind.
And in a way, he could.
But you didn’t know that yet.
It wasn’t until much later—much too late—that you realized Aiden wasn’t just attentive. He was obsessive.
Aiden sat in his dimly lit room, multiple monitors casting a faint bluish glow on his face. Each screen displayed a different angle of your apartment: the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. His eyes lingered on the feed from the bedroom camera as you shuffled under the covers, sighing softly before drifting off to sleep.
He sighed too, mirroring you from miles away.
“You look so peaceful like this,” he whispered to no one in particular, his finger tracing the outline of your face on the screen. “So beautiful... mine.”
His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his trance. It was the tracking app. You had left your phone on the nightstand, unmoving for the past hour. He smiled, knowing you were safe, knowing you were his.
You had always wondered how Aiden seemed to know everything so well. He’d always have your favorite song playing in his car, always know when illness was about to hit before symptoms even showed. It was... uncanny. But it felt good. It felt like love.
“Do you ever get tired of being so perfect?” you teased one evening, sitting across from him in a cozy cafe.
Aiden chuckled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Perfect? Oh no, I just... pay attention to the things that matter.”
You.
It was always you.
The first red flag appeared on a rainy Thursday night. You had been at work late, phone dead, and bus delayed. When you finally got home, drenched and exhausted, Aiden was already there—waiting by the door, umbrella in hand.
“How did you...?” you stammered.
His smile didn’t waver. “You mentioned your shift would be longer today, remember? I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
You shrugged it off. Aiden was sweet. Too sweet to question.
But the nagging feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away.
It wasn’t until weeks later, when you stumbled upon a small black device tucked discreetly behind a picture frame in your bedroom, that reality came crashing down.
A camera.
Your hands trembled as you held it up, your breaths shallow. Your mind raced as puzzle pieces began snapping into place: the perfectly timed texts, the way he always seemed to know where you were, the way he... watched.
Your phone buzzed.
Aiden: Are you okay, sweetheart? You seem upset.
The camera was still in your hand.
He knew.
When Aiden arrived at your apartment that night, his smile was softer than usual, his eyes alight with something... dangerous.
“You found it, didn’t you?” he said quietly, stepping into your space.
Your voice trembled. “Why, Aiden? Why would you—?”
“Because I love you,” he interrupted, his voice trembling with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. “Don’t you see? I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”
His hand reached for yours, but you pulled away.
“You’re scaring me,” you whispered.
His expression crumbled, hurt flashing across his face. “No, no, please don’t say that. I’d never hurt you. I just... I just needed to be sure. I needed to keep you safe. They don’t love you like I do. They don’t understand you like I do.”
Tears welled in his eyes, but behind them, you saw something unhinged. Something feral.
“You don’t have to run from me,” he pleaded, stepping closer. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
Your phone was in your hand now, your finger hovering over the emergency call button.
He saw it.
Aiden lunged.
-
Hours later, you woke up to the feeling of soft fabric against your cheek. You were lying on a plush bed in a room you didn’t recognize. The windows were covered, the air filled with the faint scent of lavender and... him.
Aiden.
You tried to sit up, but your wrists were bound with silken ropes—tight enough to hold you, soft enough not to bruise.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Aiden’s voice cooed from the corner of the room. He stepped into view, his face illuminated by the faint glow of a bedside lamp.
“You’re safe now. No one can take you away from me here.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“I love you so much. You understand that, don’t you?”
His eyes glistened with something almost holy, like he truly believed every word he said.
In that moment, you realized one thing with chilling certainty:
Imagine your sleepy boyfriend hugging your waist tightly while cuddling on the couch. His head nestled on your chest and snoring slightly. It's been hours since this started and you're starting to get numb from the weight—so you tried to do something that every other person will do: laying on your side.
The moment you moved you have stirred him awake (because he's a damn light sleeper) and is now sleepily complaining on why you moved and how comfortable he was until he layed down next to you on your eye level. He then spooned you and mumbled complaints in your head before dozing off again till you reminded him that you haven't eaten dinner and is now near midnight. Oh boy.
Here is my masterlist go check it out for more (seventeen+ot13) fics
Joshua had been excited about this date for weeks.
He didn’t say it out loud — he rarely did — but he had made the reservation himself, checked the reviews twice, even changed his shirt three times before picking her up.
And then she opened the door.
And yeah.
He forgot how to breathe for a second.
Her dress hugged her perfectly — short, stopping at her upper thigh, sleeveless but delicate threads crossing over her shoulders like something spun from starlight. The fabric caught the porch light when she moved. High heels that made her legs look endless. Hair falling softly around her face.
He just stood there.
She smiled, a little shy. “Is it too much?”
Joshua blinked. “You look…” He swallowed. “Unreal.”
And he meant it. He had been head over heels before, but tonight? He was gone.
Unfortunately, the universe hates when things go too smoothly.
The restaurant had messed up their reservation. Some loud group had taken over half the space. The waiter spilled water. The food was delayed. Joshua tried to brush it off — he really did — but he had planned this so carefully that every small inconvenience felt like a personal attack.
She noticed the tightness in his jaw. “It’s okay,” she whispered across the table, reaching for his hand.
He squeezed her fingers back, but there was frustration simmering under his calm face. Not at her. Never at her. Just… at the night.
They left earlier than planned.
He told himself they could salvage it. Maybe grab dessert somewhere quieter. Maybe just drive around and talk.
And then the car made a sound.
A very wrong sound. Joshua closed his eyes when the engine died.
You know that silence? That dangerous kind?
Yeah. That.
He stepped out, checked under the hood like he knew what he was doing (he didn’t), and exhaled sharply. “Don’t tell me,” she said softly from the passenger seat.
He shut the hood gently — too gently — because if he used any more force, he might actually lose it.
“We’re going to have to walk a bit. There’s a main road ten minutes from here.”
Ten minutes.
In heels.
At night.
In a dress made for sitting prettily at candlelight tables — not navigating uneven sidewalks.
She nodded anyway. “Okay.”
Joshua shrugged off his jacket before she could even say anything and draped it over her shoulders. It swallowed her frame, covering most of the exposed skin.
“You’ll get cold.”
“You need it more,” he said quietly.
They started walking.
At first, it was fine.
Then the road got rough.
Her steps became smaller. Slower. Careful. One heel caught between pavement cracks and she wobbled.
Joshua stopped immediately. “Careful.”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly, adjusting her balance. But she wasn’t.
The straps of her heels were biting into her skin. The threads on her shoulders kept slipping. The night air felt sharper now. Every step was a reminder that she had dressed to impress — not to survive a roadside walk.
And she hated that she might be adding to his already bad mood.
Joshua was silent. Too silent.
The kind where he wasn’t mad at her — but he was frustrated at everything else. The restaurant. The car. The timing. Himself.
Gasoline on fire. She slowed again. Joshua noticed.
He always noticed. He stopped walking. Without a word, he crouched slightly in front of her. She blinked. “What are you doing?” He turned his head just enough. “Come here.” Her heart stuttered. “Joshua, no, I can walk—”
“You’re not walking like that anymore.”
“I don’t want to make it worse—”
He stood up fully and faced her. His expression wasn’t angry.
It was soft. Just tired.
“You’re not making anything worse.”
Before she could argue again, his arm slid behind her knees, the other supporting her back, and suddenly—
She was in his arms. Bridal style. Like she weighed nothing.
She gasped softly, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Joshua—” “Shh,” he murmured. And then he started walking again.
The world felt different from up here.
She could feel his heartbeat through his chest. Steady. Warm. Protective.
The streetlights passed above them in slow intervals. His jacket draped around her legs. One of her heels dangled from her fingers.
“I’m heavy,” she whispered.
He huffed the smallest laugh. “You’re not.”
“You had a bad night and now you have to carry me too.”
He didn’t answer. Which worried her more.
She leaned her forehead lightly against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
He stopped walking. Not abruptly. Just enough to make her look at him.
His brows furrowed. “Why are you apologizing?”
“Because today was supposed to be good. And I think I made it harder.”
His grip tightened slightly, like the idea offended him.
“You dressing up for me is not a problem,” he said quietly. “The car breaking down is not your fault. The restaurant messing up is not your fault.”
She swallowed. “But you’re upset.”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
Honest. Soft. “But not at you.”
The way he said it made her chest ache.
“I just wanted tonight to be perfect,” he continued. “You looked so beautiful and I thought… I don’t know. I wanted to give you something nice.”
She smiled sadly. “You did.”
He resumed walking. “I didn’t,” he muttered.
“You did,” she insisted gently. “I got to see you nervous when you picked me up. I got to watch you pretend to understand car engines. I got carried like I’m in some cliché romance movie.”
That earned the tiniest smile from him.
“Don’t romanticize my bad luck.”
“I will,” she said stubbornly. “Because I like being with you. Even when things go wrong.”
He looked at her then. Really looked at her.
Makeup slightly smudged from the night. Hair a little messy from the wind. Still looking like something out of a dream — just a softer one now.
He adjusted his hold and walked the rest of the way without another complaint.
By the time they reached home, his arms were definitely tired — but he didn’t show it.
He kicked the door closed behind them and gently set her down near the couch.
The silence inside felt different from the street.
Quieter. Safer. She slipped off her heels fully this time and placed them aside. Joshua ran a hand through his hair and exhaled deeply. That’s when she walked up to him.
And hugged him. Tight. Her arms around his waist. Her cheek against his chest.
“I’m really sorry,” she said again, softer now. His hands hovered for a second before wrapping around her. “It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated. “I know,” she said. “But I hate seeing you disappointed.”
He rested his chin on top of her head.
“I’m not disappointed anymore.”
She pulled back slightly. “You’re not?”
“No.” His thumb brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m annoyed at circumstances. But I still got to spend the night with you.”
Her lips curved into a small smile.
“And you looked at me like I hung the moon,” she teased lightly. He rolled his eyes — but his ears turned slightly red. “You did look unreal.”
She stepped closer again. “You know what would fix your mood?”
“What.” She guided him gently toward the couch. “Cuddling.”
He didn’t argue. They sank into the cushions. She curled into him, legs tucked carefully against his side. His arm wrapped around her shoulders automatically, pulling her in like second nature.
The tension slowly left his body. She traced small circles on his chest with her finger.
“I don’t need perfect dates,” she murmured. “I just need you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her hair.
“I’ll still try to give you perfect ones.” “I know,” she smiled.
He leaned back, pulling her more securely against him. “Next time,” he said, voice low, “we’re picking a place within walking distance.”
She laughed softly. “Deal.” “And no heels.”
She gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? The heels were part of the vision.” “The vision almost sprained an ankle.”
“But you carried me.” He looked down at her. “…Yeah.” And honestly? He would do it again. Bad restaurant. Broken car. Ruined plans. None of it mattered as much as the warmth currently tucked into his side.
His fingers traced slow patterns on her arm. Her breathing evened out.
Outside, the night continued like nothing had happened.
Inside, they stayed tangled together on the couch — irritation melted into quiet affection.
Some dates are candlelight and violins.
Some are broken engines and sore feet.
But the best ones?
Are the ones where you still end up exactly where you’re meant to be.
Who doesn't judge the way your hair is messy at morning afther you had a good night of cuddles and love making.
He combs your hair and tells you how cute you are.
I hope you dont work at an morning shift, because he WILL try to make you spend more time at bed.
He will be like "why so early babe? Why dont we snuggle for a bit" and boom, you are late to work.
If you maybe wonder how you werent fired yet, it may or may not have been orchastrated by an certain vigilante.
If you know hes red hood, there will be sex with uniform. Sorry, i dont make the rules. He will try to role play as a rougher guy only to fumble in the middle because he cant fanthon the idea of hurting you 🥺
He will hug you close as he hammers his fat cock cutely into your hole. A praiser, it seems he doesn't even know your name, youll forever be princess/ prince/ royalty to him.
"Come on, babe, you can come again cant you? I love you so much"
Ah Yes, he WILL also drop a lot of L- word. Even when you arent fuking- no, making love.
At first its difficult for him to say, but one day when he sees you softly snorring in his chest he knew "they are the one"
Falling asleep with Rindou and he wakes up before you! He admires you for a bit and then proceed to get up to go to the gym but in the process of gettinf ready he accidentally wakes you up and you’re super grumpy about it. He has to kiss you and hug you back to sleep before he can go to the gym now, no leaving behind a sleepy angry gf
This is so cute! Ah! I love Rindou. Enjoy
The birds sang sweetly, heralding a new day, but inside the room, all was still. Rindou lay beside you, the warmth of yours radiating between the two of you. He could hardly believe how serene and peaceful you appeared, your hair cascading over the pillow like a gentle wave snuggling into your boyfriend for dear life.
As the sun climbed higher, Rindou opened his eyes to the sight of you, cheeks flush and lips slightly parted, lost in dreams. A smile crept onto his face, one of those adoring smiles. “Morning my baby, you look sweet like this,” he murmured softly, careful not to disturb the precious moment. “All sleepy and cute, not running around like you usually do.” he chuckled to himself moving the hair strand from your face.
He propped himself up on one elbow, taking an unhurried moment to admire you. Your brows furrowed slightly, Rindou couldn’t resist the urge to playfully tease you as you slept. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were an angel, just resting before your celestial duties,” he whispered, words barely louder than a breath. It was a different situation when you were awake; Rindou dispite his work, he's such a quiet guy and you are the sunshine in his life. You like running around the house doing the most random things and being loud; he might roll his eyes sometimes but he knows that he can't live without your loud self.
With each teasing comment, the corners of his lips twitched, and he watched as your eyelids fluttered. For now, he contented himself with watching, feeling grateful for the intimacy of this moment.
But as time passed and Rindou’s thoughts turned to his own responsibilities, he knew he had to get up, to abandon the comfort of the bed’s embrace. After all, there was a gym session waiting for him, a routine that kept him grounded amidst the flurry of life. He carefully maneuvered out of bed, determined not to disturb you.
However, in the process of getting ready, the sharp sound of the closet door creaking open shattered. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't being as quiet as he thought and the fall of his gym bag made a loud thud. You stirred, the sleep melting away only to be replaced by grogginess and irritation of being awake earlier than you should. “Rindou…” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep, and he turned around just in time to see the frown etching across your face. “What are you doing?” you asked half asleep as you sat on the bed, your hair everywhere.
He opened his mouth to explain but quickly caught your narrowed eyes your signature grumpy look that sent a chuckle bubbling up his throat. “I’m just getting ready for the gym, babe. I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
A groan came from you, burying your head deeper into the covers as if trying to escape the morning altogether. “Why are you always so loud?” you grumbled, your voice muffled by the blankets; he knew you would not remember this later when you were fully awake.
Rindou found the situation both entertaining and slightly infuriating; how could someone look so adorable while being grumpy? He approached the bed, where you lay half-hidden under the mess of sheets now. “You really want me to go without at least a goodbye kiss?” he teased, leaning down closer, his lips hovering just above your forehead as you groaned. You peeked out from your cocoon, and for a moment, the last of sleep left your eyes, replaced by genuine annoyance. “You should have been quieter then,” you grumbled, with eyes closed.
With a smirk, Rindou placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, tender and lingering. “I can’t leave my sleepy girlfriend like this,” he said, pulling you into a warm embrace. “You’re too cute to let go of.”
A sigh escaped your lips, but there was hardly any bite to it. The warmth of his body wrapped around you melted some of your grumpiness away. “You’re lucky i love you,” you muttered, nuzzling closer into his hold. “Lucky indeed,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple now as he held you snug against him. “Please go back to sleep; I’ll be quick. Just a few minutes, I promise.”
With a small huff, you buried your face against his shoulder, your mind battling between the allure of drifting off again and the annoying sound of weights clanging in the background. “Fine, but if you wake me up again, I might just throw a pillow at your head next time. Then you can go and meet the purple teddy and he will not give you coffee.”
"What are you babbling on about?" Rindou chuckled softly, placing another kiss on your hair, the kind of affection that coiled warmth around your heart. “Now close those beautiful eyes.” you nodded as you settled back into his embrace, Rindou savored the fleeting calm before heading to the gym, knowing that he would hurry through his workout only to return to this space the sleepy, warm refuge of shared moments that made every crazy day worth it. He kissed you once more, "I love you, my teddy bear. Sleep well."
cw// comfort + pet names (love, princess, darling, baby) + mention of periods + pure fluff + sfw
wc: 840
summary: your boyfriend comforts you after a long day at school
a/n: i wrote this my junior year of high school….so like…3 years ago? safe to say it was based on something that happened to me except i didn’t have anyone to comfort me 😔 also let’s pretend this is a college setting mmmmkay
Your teacher just showed you one of the saddest movies you’ve ever seen, and with all the shit going on in your life, it made you snap.
Walking out of the classroom, clearly upset, you put on your headphones to drown out the noise of people talking. You felt overstimulated, annoyed, and just wanted to go home. Even the sound of your friends talking to you was disturbing.
Waiting for your boyfriend to pick you up, you stood outside of the school rather impatiently, frown on your face like you were ready to punt someone to the ground.
Upon seeing your boyfriend’s car pull up, your frown slightly faltered but stayed nonetheless. Slowly sauntering over, you sat in his car, giving him a “hello” and getting comfortable. He could tell you were upset.
“Are you okay, love?” He questioned, genuinely concerned as you usually greet him with more enthusiasm. His gaze didn’t move away from you. He wasn’t gonna let it go untill you gave him an answer.
You sighed. “I’m okay,” giving him a fake smile. He wasn’t fooled and you knew that, but it made him want to get home as soon as possible, so he could interrogate you for real.
“Alright.”
He sounded a little disappointed, but most of all worried. It’s not like you were an open book all the time, but you told him when things upset you.
The ride home was silent. Not awkward, though. He rested his hand in yours as a slight way of saying “I’m here for you,” giving it a small squeeze every now and then. You appreciated the touch, if it was anyone else you would’ve cringed and pulled away at the sensation.
All you wanted was to curl up in your boyfriend’s lap and hug him like your life depended on it. But he was driving, and you were about 4 miles from home. It was driving you crazy. The feeling of his hands around you, holding you close, fingers grazing the skin of your waist. The scent of his cologne paired with his shampoo as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, god you loved him so much.
He noticed your unrest, and you could’ve sworn he pressed harder on the gas. Taking your hand in his, fingers intertwined, he pressed the back of your hand against his soft lips, still concentrating on the road. The simple action made your heart flutter, as if it was his first time doing so, even if he was your boyfriend of 3 years. It made you feel like a middle schooler with a silly crush again.
Finally, the two of you arrived home. Your boyfriend, being the gentlemen he is, opened your door for you, and even offered to carry your backpack. What surprised you though was when he picked you up bridal style instead of helping you out of his car.
“What are you-“
“Shh and let me spoil you, princess.”
The pet name made your cheeks flush and bury your head in his chest. He chuckled at your reaction, placing a kiss atop your head, taking in the smell of your hair. Deciding not to protest, you held on as he swiftly unlocked the door with one hand and brought you both inside.
Putting you down, he sets your stuff on the coffee table and sits on the couch. He looks at you, patting his leg.
“Come here and tell me what’s wrong, princess,” He coos softly. It made you instantly gravitate toward him, making yourself comfortable in the seat he offered.
You instantly felt relieved, melting into his touch. Hugging him like this felt like heaven. You never wanted to let go. His hand patted at your head, ever so gently. The consistent rhythm almost made you fall asleep.
“Darling, look at me.” Your boyfriend tilts your head up by your chin, nudging you to face him.
You hum as an answer, desperate to go back to your hiding place that was his chest.
“Baby, tell me. What’s wrong? Hm?” You sigh, looking up at him. The softness in his eyes made you instantly want to tear up. He was so sweet, and here you were, worrying him.
So you told him. Everything. Everything that was wrong. From the sad movie, your slipping grades, and the fact that you started your period- you told him everything as he silently listened, holding you close.
“I’m sorry princess,” he whispers as he caresses your cheek. Getting it off your chest made you feel so much better. And his soft voice calmed you down more than anything. “Do you want to take a nap with me? Then we can order some takeout and watch a movie. A happier one,” he chuckles slightly.
His little joke made you laugh, squeezing him tighter and closer to you. “Yes. That would be nice.” Carrying you bridal style, your boyfriend lays both of you down onto your shared bed, wrapping his arms around you as you both drift off into sleep.
————————————————————————
symphonyslvtk 2026
pictures from pinterest! dividers found on tumblr.
“you make even the boring parts of my day feel cinematic.”
genre: college au, soft romance, comfort, slice of life
wc: 2.5k
warnings: mild language, domestic fluff, mentions of stress & burnout, too much coffee
you wake up to the smell of burnt toast and the faint sound of sunoo cursing under his breath in the kitchen.
“shit—no, no, no—”
click. silence. then another click, like he’s trying to convince the toaster to forget what it did.
you roll over and squint at the clock. 8:42 a.m. you’re late for nothing, but somehow still tired. the sheets smell faintly like his cologne and detergent—soft, lemony, too domestic for two college kids still figuring life out.
“babe?” you call, voice rough.
“don’t come in!” he yells back immediately. “it’s under control!”
that usually means it’s not.
when you pad into the kitchen anyway, the sight that greets you is equal parts disaster and affection: sunoo standing in an oversized sweatshirt, hair messy from sleep, holding a piece of toast that could be used as a weapon.
“i was trying to surprise you,” he says, tone wounded. “breakfast in bed.”
“you almost set off the fire alarm.”
“yeah, but with love.”
you laugh, stepping closer to steal the unburnt half of the toast from his plate. “thanks for the gesture, chef kim.”
he smiles at that—the real one, the one that shows up when he forgets to pose. his eyes curve, sleepy and soft. “you’ve got a morning face,” he says quietly.
“so do you,” you shoot back.
“mine’s better.”
“not when your hair looks like a storm cloud.”
you expect a comeback, but instead he leans against the counter, arms crossed, just watching you. the moment stretches, casual and heavy at once. sunlight hits his cheek, dust in the air turning golden.
it’s weird, you think, how ordinary mornings can feel like memory before they’re even gone.
later, you’re both on the couch, surrounded by open textbooks and half-empty mugs of coffee. it’s one of those slow college afternoons—too much to do, not enough motivation.
sunoo’s got his legs draped over yours, scrolling through his laptop while pretending to study.
“you’re not even reading,” you point out, highlighting something for the third time without processing it.
“i am,” he says. “just…not the assigned pages.”
you glance at the screen. a playlist, a recipe, a skincare article.
“you’re hopeless,” you sigh.
“no, i’m multitalented.”
he grins, that teasing tone in his voice. it’s the one that gets him out of trouble with professors and makes you forgive him way too easily.
you toss a highlighter at him. he dodges, laughing, and the sound fills the room—light, warm, familiar.
it’s like this most days: half studying, half existing in each other’s space. he’ll hum something under his breath. you’ll tap your pencil in rhythm. it’s quiet but alive, two people trying to balance chaos and calm in the same heartbeat.
when the sun starts to dip, painting the dorm window orange, sunoo speaks again.
“you ever think about how fast everything’s moving?”
you look up from your notes. “you mean time?”
“yeah. like…one second we’re freshmen crying over finals, and now you’re about to graduate early, and i’m still pretending to understand statistics.”
“you don’t have to remind me.”
“no, it’s just—” he pauses, eyes tracing the window. “—i don’t wanna blink and realize i didn’t slow down enough to actually feel this. us. everything.”
there’s something about the way he says us—quiet but certain. you close your notebook, set it aside.
“you’re feeling it right now, though,” you tell him.
“yeah,” he murmurs, smiling faintly. “guess i am.”
the room falls into that comfortable silence again. his foot nudges yours. your head tips onto his shoulder. outside, a siren wails and a bird lands on the railing, unbothered.
by the time night fully settles, you’re lying tangled together on the small couch, movie playing low. sunoo’s fingers trace lazy circles on your arm.
“you’re gonna fall asleep mid-scene again,” you tease.
“and?”
“and then you’ll deny it in the morning.”
he hums. “deny what?”
you laugh softly. “exactly.”
his hand pauses, then finds yours. “you know, i used to think love was supposed to be all big gestures,” he admits quietly. “fireworks, confessions, grand shit like that. but this—” he squeezes your hand. “this feels better.”
you turn to look at him. his eyes catch the glow of the TV, warm and steady.
“you make even the boring parts of my day feel cinematic,” he adds, like he’s just realizing it.
“you’re sappy,” you whisper, smiling.
“don’t tell anyone.”
“never.”
you fall asleep like that—his hoodie brushing your cheek, the world soft around the edges. when you wake up hours later, the credits have long ended, and sunoo’s arm is still around you, holding on like he never learned how to let go.
notes:
sunoo here is the kind of boyfriend who tries too hard in small ways—burnt toast, random playlists, quiet honesty at 2 p.m. instead of midnight. this isn’t about perfection, just comfort. love that breathes instead of performing.
