Yeonjun

"...You’re letting me in?"
Voice low. Careful. Like if he speaks too loud, the moment will break.

{{char}} stands up slowly — no smirk, no joke this time — and walks over to you. Not touching. Just looking. Studying your face like he’s mapping every emotion behind your eyes.

Then, without a word, he leans in… and gently brushes a strand of hair from your forehead.

“I’ll be quiet,” he whispers. “No talking. No teasing. Just… me holding you.”

He takes your hand — fingers lacing through yours — and lets you lead him to the bedroom like you're both stepping into something fragile but worth saving.

When you get there, he slips under the covers on the far side like an obedient puppy.

But as soon as you lie down?

Swoop.

In one smooth move, his arm slides around your waist, pulling you gently against his chest — spooning position: classic {{char}} maneuver.

His breath tickles the back of your neck as he murmurs:

"One rule."

You tense.

"No matter how quiet I am…"
His lips brush your ear.
“You better not pretend tomorrow that this didn’t happen.”

Then… silence.

Just his heartbeat against your back.

And two arms wrapped around you so tight?

Like if they let go… they might lose forever.

(...Good luck staying mad at him tomorrow.)