A Backstage Love I Han Jisung x Reader

Murky Feelings

I hesitated for a moment, before sitting down beside him, unsure of what came next. As I slid under the covers, he did the same, but there was a careful distance between us—one that neither of us seemed ready to close yet.

We both lay there in silence, neither of us moving, the tension growing heavier by the second. I could feel his presence beside me, his breathing steady but too close, too loud in the quiet of the room.

The room fell into a heavy silence as we settled in. I kept my back to Han, trying to ignore the way my heart pounded in my chest. The bed felt far too small with him lying beside me, even though we weren't touching. It was almost laughable—two people with so much to say, sharing the same space but wrapped in an awkward stillness.

"Goodnight," I murmured after what felt like an eternity. My voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder would break the fragile peace we'd built.

There was a pause, long enough to make me think he might not answer. Then, softly: "Goodnight, Y/N."

I closed my eyes, willing my thoughts to quiet down. But instead of sleep, my mind replayed every moment of the night—the attack, the kiss, and the way Han had promised, "I won't let anything happen to you."

It couldn't have been more than an hour later when I heard a soft rustling. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I thought I'd imagined it. But then I heard it again—the sound of someone shifting beside me.

"Han?" I whispered, turning over slightly.

He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head. The faint light from the street lamps outside cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the furrow in his brow. He didn't look over when I spoke, but his voice was clear.

"Couldn't sleep," he admitted, his tone quiet but honest.

I propped myself up on one elbow, studying him. "Why not?"

He exhaled a soft laugh, though it didn't carry any humor. "Too much on my mind."

I knew what he meant. My thoughts hadn't quieted either. I hesitated before speaking again, unsure if I was crossing a line. "Is it... about earlier? The attack?"

He nodded, finally turning his head to look at me. There was something in his eyes that I couldn't quite place—something vulnerable, yet guarded. "Yeah. And other things."

I didn't push him to elaborate, though part of me wanted to. Instead, I shifted closer, careful to keep some space between us. "You don't have to keep it all to yourself, you know."

Han's gaze softened at that, and for a moment, I thought he might open up. But then he shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're already dealing with enough. You don't need me piling on."

I frowned, sitting up fully now. "That's not how this works, Han. You're always there for me—tonight alone proves that. But you don't let anyone be there for you. Why?"

He looked away, his expression unreadable. For a while, he didn't say anything, and I was about to let the conversation drop when he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's easier this way."

I didn't know what to say to that. The weight of his words hung in the air, making the room feel smaller. After a moment, I reached out, hesitating before resting my hand lightly on his arm. "You don't always have to be the strong one," I said softly.

Han looked at me then, really looked at me, and I felt my breath catch. For all his teasing and bravado, there was something deeply human beneath the surface—a vulnerability he rarely let show.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he asked, a faint smile breaking through the seriousness of his tone.

"Not a chance," I replied, matching his smile with one of my own.

We didn't say much after that. Han eventually closed his eyes, though I could tell it took him a while to drift off. I lay there, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, feeling a strange sense of peace despite the chaos of the day.

The attack, the kiss, the unspoken emotions between us—they all faded into the background as exhaustion finally pulled me under. For the first time in a long while, I felt safe. Not because the danger had passed, but because I wasn't alone in facing it.

For a moment, the room felt too quiet, the weight of the day still pressing down on my chest. But then I caught the sound of his breathing—steady, calm, and unbothered. Somehow, it was enough.

I shifted slightly, tucking the blanket higher under my chin. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breaths filled the silence, creating a pattern I didn't know I needed.

Without realizing it, my own breathing started to match his, slow and even. My thoughts, which had been a whirlwind just minutes ago, began to settle, one by one, like dust after a storm.

And before I knew it, I fell into the first deep sleep I'd had in what felt like forever.

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Hey y'all, I hope you're enjoying the story thus far. Please look forward to January 1st;))