In the dining room, Jeno lingered beside her chair, watching her with obvious worry keeping a respectful distance.
“Hey, Soul,” he said softly.
“Can I take your plate? Or… do you want to try eating a little more?”
No reaction.
Not even a blink.
He crouched down beside her chair so he didn’t tower over her and lowered his voice, trying to make every sound as gentle as possible.
“It's okay if you don't want to. But you don’t need to be scared,” he murmured. “Not of me. Not of anyone in this house.”
She didn’t look up, but the tension in her hands loosened by a fraction.
Jeno smiled faintly — encouragement, not pressure.
“You are not alone here... I’ll protect you. If anything happens if you ever need anything while you’re here — anything at all — you can always come to me. I’ll help you. I mean it.”
His tone held a reassurance that anchored her for a moment.
Her eyes flickered up, meeting his for the briefest second but it was the first time she’d looked directly at him.
“I helped you at school before, remember?” he added with a warm tone.
“And I’ll protect you here too. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Her breathing steadied just the tiniest amount.
Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something—but before she could—
“Seolya?”
Another voice suddenly echoed from behind them.
The girl immediately flinched—her shoulders jolting as if struck. She looked back to her lap as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
Doyoung slowed his steps, making himself look smaller, softer.
Jeno rolled his eyes annoyed, standing up to look at him.
“Hyung,” Jeno hissed. “seriously?”
“I have it under control,” Doyoung looked at him, before he crouched in front of her the same way Jeno had earlier.
“Hey, Seolya,” Doyoung said with a low, calming voice.
But the girl didn't reacted.
No movement, no shaky breath. Not even a blink.
“Jeno,” Doyoung said with a calm voice, not taking his eyes off the girl. “please bring the dishes to the kitchen.”
Jeno hesitated, glancing between them.
“Hyung, I can—”
“I said I have it under control,” Doyoung interrupted him with a gentle voice.
Jeno hesitated but obeyed.
He picked up a few plates before walking back into the kitchen, confusion written all over his face.
As he entered the kitchen, he noticed Taeyong standing at the counter, his posture stiff— eyes fixed intently on the scene unfolding in the dining room between Doyoung and the girl.
“Hyung?” Jeno asked, brows raised.
“Mmh?” Taeyong responded without looking away.
“What… are you doing?”
Taeyong jolted slightly as if waking from a trance.
“W–what? Nothing.”
