⸝⸝ UNPERFORM 𓂃
in which. he’s at your door before the tears even dry.
contents. [1.7k] idol! lhs x fem! reader ⸝⸝ heavy hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, kissing.
the room is too quiet, and the silence only makes your thoughts louder. that small disagreement from earlier, the one you both walked away from with stiff shoulders and clipped words, is now a heavy weight on your chest.
every time you closed your eyes, you saw the look on heeseung’s face, not one of anger, but of that detached, quiet frustration that always hurt ten times worse.
the fight had been one of those "nothing" arguments that spiraled out of control because of exhaustion. he had been buried in the studio for three days straight, and when he finally came over, he was a ghost. you had tried to show him something, a small win at work, a video, a piece of your day, and he had barely looked up from his phone, nodding absently.
"are you even listening, hee?"
"i'm tired, okay? i just want to sit here for five minutes without having to perform."
the word perform had stung. it suggested that being with you was a chore, a role he had to play. you had snapped back, he had gone cold, and he left with a quiet, "maybe we just need space tonight."
now, "space" felt like an ocean. the "what ifs" were clawing at you.
“what if he realizes he’s happier alone?”
“what if i’m just another thing on his to do list?”
your phone was in your hand before you could talk yourself out of it. you didn’t even mean to press 'call,' but the moment the ringing started, your heart climbed into your throat.
he answered on the second ring.
"baby?" his voice was gravelly, thick with the sleep he’d finally managed to get. "why are you calling? are you okay?"
the moment you heard his voice, that specific, sleepy warmth, the dam broke. a jagged, broken sob escaped your throat. you tried to cover your mouth, but the sound was out there now.
"i- i’m sorry," you choked out. "i didn't mean to wake you. i just"
"i'm coming over." the sound of a mattress creaking and the immediate rustle of clothes followed.
"no, hee. it's late, you were sleeping"
"i don't care. stay on the phone with me. i'm putting my shoes on. talk to me, baby please."
he kept you on the line the entire time. you listened to his heavy breathing as he jogged to his car, the chime of his seatbelt, and the low hum of the engine.
he didn't say much, heeseung was never the type to fill the air with empty chatter, but he hummed low in his throat, a grounding sound that told you he was still there.
when the headlights finally swung across your bedroom wall, you ran to the front door.
he was stepping out of the car before the engine had even fully died. he looked wrecked, wearing a black essentials hoodie, hair pushed back haphazardly under a beanie, and eyes filled with a raw, sharp anxiety.
the second the door opened, he didn't wait for a greeting. he stepped inside, kicked the door shut with his heel, and pulled you into his chest with such force it knocked the breath out of you.
you collapsed against him. your forehead pressed into the crook of his neck, and your hands fumbled for purchase, clutching the heavy cotton of his hoodie until your fingers ached.
you stayed quiet for a while, listening to his heavy breathing.
"i thought you were done with me," you sobbed, the words muffled by his skin. "i thought you hated me for snapping."
heeseung’s breath hitched. he wrapped his arms around you, one hand flat against your back, pressing you closer as if trying to merge your two heartbeats into one. his other hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his long fingers shielding you from the rest of the world.
"shh, baby no. never. look at me," he murmured, but you wouldn't. you just tightened your grip, burying yourself deeper into his warmth.
he let out a long, shaky sigh, swaying you gently from side to side. he wasn't a man of silver tongued apologies; he didn't have a script for this. but his body told the story. his heart was hammering against your ear, just as fast as yours.
"i’m so bad at this," he whispered into your hair. "i’m sorry i made you upset. i want you to know that you’re the only place i don't have to perform. i was just... i was so tired i forgot how to say it."
you stayed like that for a long time in the dim light of the entryway. he let you lean your full weight on him, anchoring you when you felt like you were floating away in a panic. he smelled like the cold night air and the familiar, comforting scent of his shampoo.
every few seconds, he would press a kiss to the top of your head, a soft reassurance.
"hee?" you whispered, your voice small and exhausted.
"hm?"
"dont leave yet."
he pulled back just enough to cup your face. his thumbs moved slowly, wiping the salt tracks from your cheeks with a tenderness that made you want to cry all over again. he looked at you with such concentrated devotion that it felt heavy.
"i’m staying," he promised, his voice dropping to a low, velvet register. "i’m staying as long as you need. let’s get you off your feet, okay?"
he guided you to the sofa, but even then, he didn't let go. he sat down and pulled you right back into his lap, tucking your head under his chin. he wasn't great with words, but as he hummed a wordless melody into your hair, the one he’d been working on in the studio, you realized he was giving you the best of him.
heeseung held you like you were made of glass, his large hands splaying across your back, grounding you. but the guilt was eating at him. he could feel the way your small frame shuddered with every leftover sob, and it made his chest ache with a physical sharpness.
he wasn’t a man who found words easily when his heart was full. but looking at your tear stained face in the dim light, he knew he had to try.
"hey," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. he nudged his chin against the top of your head. "look at me for a second? just a second, baby."
you shook your head, burying your face deeper into the crook of his neck. you felt exposed, your eyes swollen and your heart raw from the hours of overthinking.
"i'm sorry," he breathed, the words tumbling out with a desperate honesty. "i’m so, so sorry. i’ve been living in my own head for weeks. the comeback, the recordings... i let it turn me into someone i don't like. i came over here to see you because you’re my peace, and then i treated you like you were part of the noise. that’s the last thing you deserve."
his apology was like a key turning in a lock. you had been trying to pull yourself together, but hearing him take the blame, hearing him acknowledge the very thing that had been hollowed you out all night, made a fresh wave of grief hit you.
you let out a broken, high pitched wail, your fingers digging into the fleece of his hoodie.
"i thought i was annoying you!" you gasped out between heavy, racking sobs. "i thought... i thought you were starting to regret us because i’m too much when you’re tired."
heeseung’s heart shattered. he squeezed you so tight it was almost hard to breathe, his own eyes stinging.
"no, baby” he groaned, the sound vibrating against your chest. "no. god, never. you’re the only thing that’s not too much. everything else is too much. you’re the only part of my day that feels real."
he started to kiss the side of your head, over and over, your temple, your hair, the shell of your ear. each kiss was a silent plea for forgiveness.
"i’m an idiot," he muttered, his voice thick with his own rising emotion. "i saw you trying to talk to me, and i was so wrapped up in my own exhaustion that i shut the door. i saw your face drop when i said that 'performance' comment, and i still didn't fix it. i let you sit here all night thinking you weren't enough, when you're the only person i want to wake up to."
the more he talked, the more you cried. it wasn't the sad, lonely crying from before; it was the sound of months of suppressed stress and the night’s specific agony leaving your body. your tears soaked the shoulder of his hoodie, making the fabric heavy and damp, but he didn't move an inch.
"hee," you choked out, your voice barely audible. "it hurt so bad."
"i know, baby" he whispered, his voice trembling now. "i know it did. i'm right here. i've got you. cry as much as you need to."
he shifted, pulling his legs up onto the sofa so he could wrap himself entirely around you, creating a cocoon. he began to rub long, slow circles into your back, his touch steady and firm.
he didn't try to stop the tears anymore; he just bore witness to them, letting his presence be the anchor that kept you from drifting away into your insecurities.
"you're my girl," he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours, "my baby. always. a stupid fight doesn't change that. a hundred stupid fights wouldn't change that."
as the heavy sobbing eventually tapered off into small, hitching breaths. he grabbed a tissue from the side table and gently dabbed at your face, his movements incredibly slow.
every time you tried to apologize for crying so much, he would just press a finger to your lips and shake his head, pulling you back in.
the tension from the fight was gone, replaced by a heavy, sleepy intimacy that only comes after a massive emotional release.
"better?" he asked softly, leaning in while his thumb traces the line of your jaw.
you nodded weakly, feeling lightheaded and spent. "dont go home tonight."
"i told you," he said, pecking your lips repeatedly. "i’m staying. i’ll be right here when you wake up. we're okay, baby. i promise."
© wonchip . 2026 — do not reupload.
i miss him so bad :c
