❤️CHAPTER 8 — Warm Clothes & Warmer Trouble
1022 Words
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CHAPTER 8 — Warm Clothes & Warmer Trouble
Nunbi POV
Okay.
Okay wait.
I swear I was only supposed to “go buy clothes real quick.”
Just a simple mission.
But NO.
Because my brain is not normal today, and apparently the universe said:
“Let’s make Nunbi sprint around the mall like she’s rescuing a toddler she gave birth to five minutes ago.”
I’m still half-running when I reach my door, plastic bags cutting into my fingers because I bought too much. WAY too much.
Did he need five sweaters? No.
Did I still take five? Yes. Don’t judge me. He was shivering and looking at me like a lost puppy.
I push the door open.
“Baby.... I’m back!”
Silence.
Oh hell no.
“Lumen??”
My heart almost jumps out of my throat,
until I spot him exactly where I left him: sitting on the floor like a confused little dumpling, blanket around his shoulders, eyes wide like he thought I died.
“Oh my god ! baby why are you looking at me like that?”
He blinks. “You were gone.”
“I went to buy CLOTHES, not disappear into another universe!”
His shoulders drop, and suddenly he looks… guilty?
“I thought maybe you wouldn’t come back.”
My soul falls through the floor.
I drop the shopping bags. Literally DROP them.
Everything spills out, socks fly, one hoodie falls onto his lap.
Whatever.
I rush to him.
“Baby, look at me,” I say, cupping his cheeks like some dramatic k-drama scene.
He looks up instantly, like he’s coded to respond to my voice. (Okay, technically he was, but still—)
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Not EVER without telling you.”
He nods, slowly. “Your absence felt… wrong.”
I swear to god this boy is going to END ME emotionally.
“Baby you can’t say things like that when I’m already stressed!”
He blinks, confused. “I’m… causing stress?”
“No ! YES ! I mean ! not in a bad way!! In a cute way! Like... ugh... never mind..."
I flop onto the floor beside him, dramatic and breathless like I just ran from the police.
He watches me with that gentle, confused Jungwon face I stupidly gave him.
“I brought clothes,” I say, grabbing one of the bags.
“No more n***d Lumen in my apartment.”
He looks down at his legs, like checking if he’s n***d again.
“…I’m wearing pants.”
“Yes THANK GOD.”
I rub my face. “Imagine if someone walked by my window earlier.”
He tilts his head. “Is there something wrong with being"
“STOP. Don’t finish that sentence. I’m already dying today.”
He nods obediently.
I pull out a sweater. A simple beige one. Soft. Warm. Very safe.
“Here,” I say, offering it to him.
He takes it carefully with both hands.
Very… carefully.
Like I’m handing him a newborn baby instead of Uniqlo knitwear.
“…It smells like you,” he says suddenly.
I choke on air.
“What... WHAT ARE YOU SAYING...?"
He shrugs, innocent but not innocent at all. “You wore it before? Or touched it? I can smell your warmth.”
“My WHAT? BABY PLEASE STOP SAYING WORDS LIKE THAT!"
He looks genuinely confused. “Is it wrong?”
“No it’s... too effective?! Too heart attack?! I’m fragile today!!”
I look down at the sweater, cheeks turning soft pink.
I like it. I mean… I really like it.
Then my fingers brush against something small, cold, and metallic at the bottom of the bag.
A delicate silver snowflake bracelet catches my eye.
It glints in the sunlight spilling from the window.
Huh…?
I pick it up. Tiny, fragile, elegant. Soft edges. Simple.
I fasten it around my wrist. It feels… grounding. Like a tiny anchor I didn’t know I needed.
Something about it makes my chest feel calmer, warmer, like I can breathe just a little easier.
Lumen tilts his head, curious. “What is that?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, tucking it under my sleeve. “Just… something pretty I liked.”
He doesn’t notice anything unusual. Not yet.
I focus back on him.
He tries to lift the sweater over his arms. The blanket slips from his shoulder. He shivers.
Instinctively, my hand goes to his back.
Warm. Soft. Very alive.
He leans into my touch immediately.
“Don’t stop,” he whispers.
I forget how to breathe for a moment.
“You, you’re cold,” I mutter. Totally lying. I just want to keep holding him.
“I’m… okay now,” he murmurs. “Because you’re here.”
Kill me. Just kill me.
I fix his sweater (backwards again—I don’t even correct it, I’m too tired), and ruffle his hair.
He looks up at me with those big soft eyes.
“What… do I do next?” he asks quietly, like a student waiting for instructions.
I bite my lip, smile, and tap his forehead.
“You learn, baby. Slowly. One thing at a time.”
He nods.
“Can I stay close to you while I learn?”
My chest squeezes. Not in a dramatic literature way, literally squeezes like someone grabbed my heart.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Always.”
He exhales like that one word saved his life.
Then:
“…Nunbi?”
“Hm?”
He leans forward. Just a little. Not to kiss. Not to touch.
Just close. Close enough that I feel his breath hit my cheek.
“Thank you for coming back.”
“This is my home! Of course I’ll back.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
I freeze looking at him. Then smile. Slow. Soft. Not perfect.
“Of course I came back,” I whisper.
“I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
He closes his eyes, relief washing over his face like he finally understands something new...
His first human belonging.
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- Writer
