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She felt uneasy in her sleep, as though someone was gripping her neck. Her breaths became shallow and labored, her chest tightening with a growing sense of dread. Startled, she jolted awake sitting upright on the bed with wide, terrified eyes, her heart pounding against her ribs.

The room was shrouded in darkness, shadows stretching across the walls like ominous whispers. Her frantic gaze swept over the space her pulse slowing only when her eyes landed on Namjoon sitting silently on the couch in front of the bed.

Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, she clutched her chest trying to calm her racing heart. Namjoon, noticing her distress shot up from his seat, his face etched with worry.

His movements were quick as he crossed the room, sitting on the bed beside her. Without hesitation, he enveloped her in his strong arms his warmth offering a shield against her fears.

She buried her face in his chest, seeking solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was as though his mere presence was a balm to her troubled soul.

His heartbeat, strong and calming began to lull her back to sleep. Namjoon held her tightly his hand stroking her hair in soothing motions. Neither of them knew when sleep overtook them, but they remained entwined, their fears momentarily forgotten in the comfort of each other’s embrace.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Y/N stirred, her eyes fluttering open to find herself still wrapped in Namjoon’s arms.

His face was buried in the crook of her neck, his warm breath grazing her skin. His strong hands rested protectively on her waist, while one of his legs draped over hers possessively.

A smile tugged at her lips as her heart swelled with emotion. She wished she could freeze this moment, live in it forever. Gently, she ran her hand along his back, savoring the intimacy of their closeness.

After a few quiet moments, she carefully wriggled free from his grip, doing her best not to wake him.

Once out of bed, she slipped into the bathroom to complete her morning routine. The sound of water running and the faint scent of soap filled the small space. When she was ready, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and lunch for Namjoon.

As she moved around the kitchen, the smile on her face refused to fade. The simple act of cooking felt different today, filled with a sense of purpose and affection.

The sizzling of the pan and the soft clinking of utensils filled the air as the delicious aroma of her dishes began to waft through the house.

Namjoon woke to find the bed empty. Stretching, he sat up glancing around the room before noticing the faint noises coming from the kitchen.

A soft smile spread across his face as he imagined her there. After a quick shower, he stepped out of the room, following the aroma of food that led him straight to her.

She was standing by the counter, completely absorbed in her task. The sunlight streaming through the window highlighted her delicate features, making her look ethereal. Dressed in simple grey sweatpants and a black shirt, she looked effortlessly beautiful.

Namjoon leaned against the fridge twisting the cap off a water bottle and taking a slow sip, his eyes never leaving her. Watching her cook with such skill and focus stirred something deep within him.

He felt a surge of pride and affection, his heart swelling as he admired her. She glanced up and met his gaze, offering him a small, shy smile that made his breath hitch.

After breakfast, Namjoon returned to his room to get dressed. When he stepped out, he saw Y/N waiting for him by the door, holding out a neatly packed lunchbox.

"What’s this?" he asked, his brows furrowing slightly as he looked at her outstretched hand.

"Lunch" she replied softly, her voice tinged with nervousness.

"Who told you to do this?" he asked, his tone edged with concern. His eyes searched hers, worried about the toll it might have taken on her.

"N-no one... I just wanted to" she stammered, her hand trembling slightly as she continued to hold the box out to him.

He sighed, his voice rising slightly as he said, "You don’t have to do anything. Just rest, alright?"

Taking the box from her, he turned towards the door. But before he could leave, her soft voice stopped him.

"Sir" she called hesitantly.

He turned back, his gaze softening as he saw her holding out the key to his bike.

"Here" she said with a small, tentative smile.

Taking the key Namjoon allowed himself a small smile in return. He patted her head gently before glancing at her face again, noticing the nervous way she fidgeted with her hands.

"Sir, can you... can you take an application form for leaving school from the administration office?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He frowned slightly, not liking the idea of her leaving school, but he nodded. "I’ll take care of it" he assured her. "Now, listen to me. Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone except Bora. Understood?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes. Take care" she said, waving at him like an innocent child, her gesture bringing a soft chuckle from him.

"Call me if you need anything," Namjoon said, moving toward the door.

"I-I... don't have a phone" she mumbled softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He paused mid-step, turning to look at her, his expression softening. "Okay, I'll buy one for you. Don't worry. For now, if something happens call the security guard using the telephone downstairs" he reassured her.

She nodded in response, her fingers twisting nervously.

As Namjoon rode to school a heaviness settled in his chest. He hated leaving her alone  especially when she was so vulnerable.

His mind raced with thoughts of how to protect her and uncover the truth about the boy who had caused her so much pain. One thing was certain he wouldn’t rest until she was safe and free from the darkness that haunted her.

Later that night, Namjoon came home and after having dinner, She was sitting on the couch, her hands fidgeting as if trying to find something to do. Namjoon glanced at her and then at the stack of student papers on the table.

"Could you arrange these papers according to the students roll number?" he asked, his tone even, but kind.

She nodded quickly, eager to be helpful. As she started arranging the papers her movements slowed.

Her gaze fell on the stack in her hands, and an ache blossomed in her chest. Her paper, her dreams, would no longer be among these. A tear slipped down her cheek unbidden, but she wiped it away before anyone could notice.

When she finally finished, she turned to look at Namjoon. He was seated at the other end of the couch, his laptop perched on his knees.

His glasses reflected the faint glow of the screen as his fingers danced over the keyboard. His focused expression, the gentle crease of his brow, and the way his lips parted slightly in concentration made her chest tighten.

She swallowed hard.
Why am I feeling like this?

Her heart thudded painfully as unfamiliar emotions swirled inside her. Why do I want him to hold me? To touch me?

Her cheeks burned at the thought, and she bit her lip to stop herself from imagining further. Why does his presence make me feel warm all over? Why does he make me feel... alive?

Her fingers trembled as she clasped her hands tightly. Is this wrong? Should I search about it? What if it’s bad for the baby?

She hesitated, then cleared her throat softly. "S-Sir?"

Namjoon’s head lifted, his deep eyes meeting hers. "Hmm?"

"Can I… can I use your phone for two minutes?" she asked, her voice shaky.

Without a word, he handed her his phone. "Don’t call me SIR.. We’re not in school" he murmured before turning his attention back to his laptop.

She nodded nervously, her hands gripping the phone tightly as she opened the browser. Taking a deep breath, she typed the words she couldn’t voice out loud.

"Is it normal to feel warm around a man’s presence?"

Her heart raced as she read the answers, her cheeks flaming.

Do I want to have something sexual with him? But why..I'm not like this....why? Why? This is happening with me?? Isn't this a bad thing?.......She thought after reading the result.

She glanced at Namjoon, who was still focused on his work. The sight of his hands moving across the keyboard sent shivers down her spine. She quickly deleted the search and typed again.

"Is it normal for a pregnant woman to feel horny?"

The search results made her sigh, she gulped hard but they didn’t ease the turmoil in her heart. She returned the phone to him and stood abruptly, "Goodnight" she whispered, hurrying to her room before he could respond.

Days passed in a blur, and their connection grew stronger. Neither of them spoke about their feelings, but the silent moments, the lingering gazes, and the way their hands would accidentally brush told stories neither dared to voice.

Y/N found herself imagining a life with him a life filled with warmth and love, a life she knew she couldn’t have. Yet, hope refused to die in her heart.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was consumed by his investigation. He was certain the group of students who bullied others had hurt Y/N.

But who was the boy who had cause her such pain? He didn’t know, and it frustrated him. He was determined to find out, but he didn’t want her to know he was looking into it.

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