𓏲๋࣭࣪˖ Hᥲᥒ Jιsυᥒg 🍂.ᐟ

Han had always been a disaster at taking care of himself.

He could spend hours locked away composing without eating a single bite, forget to answer messages, stay up until dawn for "just one more song," and leave the house without a jacket even if it was cold. The others had been trying to change those habits for years... without success.

Until you came along.

Nobody understood how you did it. A single look or a simple phrase was enough to make him obey.

—Go and rest.

—...Five minutes.

-Now.

-...Alright.

The boys never missed an opportunity to bother him.

—You're too henpecked.

—Have you asked permission to breathe too?

Han was always complaining, crossing his arms, and shaking his head at everything.

—I don't ask for permission.

But five minutes later he was already sending you a picture of the food he had just bought because you had told him not to skip lunch.

It wasn't because I was afraid of you.

He simply trusted you so much that when you told him to rest, eat, or come back early, he knew it was because you wanted to see him well.

That night, rehearsal had finished much later than expected. The boys insisted on going out for dinner before heading home, and Han agreed... though, out of habit, he picked up his phone before sitting down.

Changbin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and let out a laugh.

—Look at him. He hasn't even opened the menu and he's already writing to her.

—Leave it.
Minho said with an amused smile.
—If you tell him to come back, he'll disappear in less than ten minutes.

Han looked up, his cheeks slightly red.

—Don't exaggerate...

—Then put the phone away.
There was a long silence.

-...No.

Laughter filled the table as he sighed resignedly and finished writing a single message.

They have:
"We just finished. The boys want to have dinner before heading back. Is it okay if I'm a little late? I promise not to stay up too late. "