The girl sat on the edge of the wide bed, her small frame folded in on itself, trembling hands covering her face. Every shaky inhale revealed how overwhelmed she was. Jeno and Jaemin sat pressed close on either side of her, their arms around her like a protective shield. It wasn't perfect comfort—but it kept her from falling apart entirely.
“Soul, hey… breathe, okay?” Jeno whispered, rubbing her arm in slow, grounding circles. “You don’t have to be scared. You’re safe here. We’ll protect you.”
“Jeno’s right,” Jaemin added softly, brushing her hair away from her damp cheeks. “No one here is going to hurt you. We’ll make absolutely sure of that.”
She finally lifted her head, her eyes swollen and red, still glossy with fear. But she met their gazes—slowly trusting, if only because they hadn’t given her any reason not to.
“Hey,” Jaemin said gently, forcing a tiny smile. “You don’t have to cry alone anymore, okay? You can trust us.”
His gentle grin was so earnest she couldn’t help but mirror it faintly.
“You know what, Seolya?” Doyoung said after studying her shivering shoulders. “Let’s dry your hair before you catch a cold.”
He stood, walked to the bathroom, and returned with the blow-dryer, plugging it in with practiced familiarity. Warm air filled the room as he patted the spot in front of him.
Soul hesitated, glancing at Jeno and Jaemin. They nodded encouragingly, so she crawled to sit in front of Doyoung, back facing him, knees tucked close.
Doyoung gently lifted a strand of her long hair. His movements were slow and careful, almost clinical—like he was terrified of spooking her. The warm air hummed softly, brushing over her neck.
Soul sat perfectly still, surprised that she felt… oddly safe.
Jeno and Jaemin exchanged relieved looks. Seeing her relax, even a little, eased the knot of worry in their stomachs.
A few minutes later, Doyoung switched the dryer off. “All done,” he said with a gentle smile. Soul touched her hair, surprised at how soft it felt.
“You take good care of your hair,” Doyoung noted. “It’s really smooth.”
Soul turned, cheeks pink. “Th-Thank you… for drying it.”
“Hyung?” Jeno asked, rubbing his stomach. “Not to ruin the moment, but… breakfast?”
Before Soul could reply, her stomach growled loudly.
She hid her face; the boys laughed softly.
Doyoung smiled warmly. “I’ll make breakfast. Should I bring yours up? You don’t have to face your brother yet.”
Soul swallowed, nodding shyly.
Leaving the three alone, Doyoung stepped out—only to walk straight into an argument downstairs.
“HELL, I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING TO HER!” Taeyong shouted, voice echoing through the house.
“Then why is Jaehyun losing his mind like that if you didn't do anything?!” Johnny argued back.
“I DON'T FUCKING KNOW! HE JUST ATTACKED ME LIKE THAT, YOU WERE THERE TOO!”
“Jaehyun wouldn't attack you without a reason! Did you harm her?”
“Johnny, I swear I haven't done anything to harm her!”
“Then what have you done, hyung?” Yuta asked, arms crossed, confusion and frustration mixing on his face.
“NOTHING!”
