Chapter 4 (fluff ?)

The following night, the dorm was quieter than usual. Schedules had been brutal lately, back-to-back photoshoots, dance practice until midnight, and sudden changes that left everyone scrambling. You could feel the tension in the air all day. The members were tired, smiles a little forced, voices a bit quieter during meals.

Shion had been especially subdued. During the afternoon vocal lesson, she’d nailed every note but her usual bright energy was missing. Her red hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and when she thought no one was looking, her shoulders slumped just a little. You caught her staring out the window during a van ride, fingers twisting the hem of her hoodie, eyes distant.

After lights-out, your phone buzzed with a message from her:

Storage room?

…

I don’t feel like playing tonight. I just want to see you.

Your chest tightened. You grabbed a couple of things from the kitchen anyway, two mugs of warm honey milk you’d heated up, a small packet of her favorite strawberry cookies, and a soft blanket from the laundry room, then made your way down the hall.

When you unlocked the storage room door, Shion was already curled up on the couch in the dim lamplight. She wore an oversized cream-colored sweater that swallowed her frame and loose pajama shorts. Her vibrant red hair was down, slightly messy from the day, framing her face in soft waves. She looked smaller than usual, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs.

The moment she saw you, her eyes softened, but there was a faint glossiness to them that made your heart ache.

“Hey,” you said gently, closing and locking the door behind you. You set the mugs and cookies on the small side table and spread the blanket over the couch before sitting down beside her. “Rough day?”

Shion nodded, scooting closer until she could rest her head on your shoulder. Her voice was quiet, almost fragile. “The schedule changed again. They moved my solo recording session to overlap with the group dance practice tomorrow, and I… I feel like I’m letting everyone down if I can’t keep up. Everyone else seems to handle it better. I keep thinking I’m not doing enough, or that I’m falling behind. It makes my chest feel tight.”

You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her gently into your side. She melted against you immediately, one hand coming up to clutch the front of your shirt. “You’re not falling behind, Shion. You’re working so hard. I see it every day, how focused you are, how you stay late to practice your parts even when the others have gone. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

She let out a shaky breath, nuzzling closer. “I know… but sometimes it feels like too much. The pressure to be perfect. The constant changes. I just wanted tonight to be soft. No games, no cold or sweet or anything intense. Just… you.”

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the faint floral scent of her shampoo. “Then that’s exactly what we’ll do. Come here.”

You shifted so you could lie back on the couch, guiding her to settle on top of you. Shion curled into your chest like a kitten, her red hair spilling over your shoulder and across the blanket. You pulled the soft blanket over both of you, tucking it around her shoulders. One of your hands stroked slow, soothing circles along her back, while the other gently combed through her silky red strands.

For a long while, neither of you spoke. You just held her, letting the quiet settle around you like a warm cocoon. The distant hum of the dorm fridge and the occasional soft creak of the building were the only sounds.

Eventually, Shion’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your chest. “Can you tell me something nice?” she whispered. “Anything. I just want to hear your voice.”

You smiled, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “Okay. Did you know that every time you sing, even during warm-ups, the whole room feels brighter? Your voice has this warmth to it, like sunlight through the practice room windows. And when you smile after hitting a high note perfectly, it makes me forget how tired I am too. You bring something really special to the group, Shion. Not just talent, but this quiet kindness that everyone leans on without realizing it.”

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink, and she hid her face against your neck. “You’re too sweet… but thank you. It helps.”

You reached for one of the mugs of warm honey milk and helped her sit up just enough to sip from it. She held the mug with both hands, blowing gently before taking small, careful sips. You took the other mug, and the two of you drank in comfortable silence, the sweet warmth spreading through you both.

When the mugs were empty, you set them aside and pulled her back down. This time you turned so you were facing each other on the narrow couch, legs tangled together under the blanket. Your forehead rested against hers, noses brushing.

“You’re allowed to rest, you know,” you murmured. “Tomorrow I’ll talk to the staff about the overlap. We’ll figure out a way to make the schedule work without burning you out. You’re important, not just as a performer, but as you.”

Shion’s eyes shimmered again, but this time the tears were softer, grateful. She leaned in and kissed you, slow, gentle, no heat or urgency, just pure affection. Her lips were warm and tasted faintly of honey. You kissed her back the same way, cupping her cheek with one hand, thumb stroking her soft skin.

The kiss lingered, turning into a series of sweet, unhurried pecks and gentle nuzzles. When you finally pulled back, she smiled for the first time that night, a small, genuine curve of her lips that made the red in her hair seem even brighter.

“I feel safer with you,” she whispered. “Like I can just be Shion, not ‘tripleS’s vocalist’ or whatever title they put on me. Just… me.”

“You’re always just you with me,” you replied softly, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear. “And I like that version a lot.”

She snuggled closer, one leg draping over yours as her hand found yours under the blanket. Your fingers intertwined naturally. You continued stroking her hair, occasionally pressing soft kisses to her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose, whatever she offered up with a contented little hum.

Time stretched comfortably. You talked in low voices about small things: her favorite childhood memories of singing in the car with her family, the silly nicknames the members gave each other in the dorm, how she secretly loved when it rained because it made practice rooms feel cozier. You shared a few light stories from your own life, making her giggle quietly when you described your first disastrous attempt at cooking for a group of idols.

At one point she shifted so her head rested right over your heart, listening to its steady beat. “This is my favorite sound tonight,” she murmured.

You held her a little tighter, the blanket cocooning you both in warmth. No rushing, no pressure, no games, just the two of you tangled together, breathing in sync.

Eventually her breathing slowed, growing deeper and more even. You felt her body relax completely against yours, the last traces of tension melting away. You kept stroking her back in slow circles long after she’d fallen asleep, pressing one final gentle kiss to her red hair.

“Sleep well, Shion,” you whispered against her temple. “I’ve got you.”

You stayed like that for as long as you dared, savoring the quiet intimacy. When the clock on your phone showed it was getting close to the time you needed to slip back to your room, you carefully eased out from under her. You tucked the blanket around her properly, making sure she was warm and comfortable on the couch. Before leaving, you left the packet of strawberry cookies on the table where she’d see them first thing, along with a little note scribbled on a napkin:

“You’re doing amazing.  

Rest as much as you need.  

I’m always here. Your manager (and biggest fan of your smile)
( • ᴗ - ) ”

You locked the door softly behind you and headed back down the hall, heart full and light at the same time.

The next morning, during breakfast prep, Shion appeared in the kitchen with her red hair freshly brushed and a soft, secret smile playing on her lips. When no one was looking, she caught your eye across the room and mouthed a silent “thank you.”

You smiled back, already knowing that no matter how crazy the schedules got, you’d always make time for nights like this, soft, warm, for her.

Because Park Shion, with her red hair and her gentle heart, deserved every bit of gentleness the world could give her. And you were more than happy to be the one to provide it.