Morning sunlight crept into Rhea's apartment, warming her face as it filtered through the curtains she had forgotten to close. She had fallen asleep watching the stars again, thoughts spinning restlessly in her head—particularly one that refused to quiet down: Yoongi's offer.
Exactly one month had passed since he asked her to move in with him. The idea lingered like a half-written song—unfinished, beautiful, but too raw to perform. She loved him. She knew that. But living together? That felt like turning a page she wasn't ready to read yet.
Rhea sat up slowly, her bones reluctant, her chest heavy. As she dragged herself to the kitchen to brew coffee, she opened the cupboard and stared into a dismal void.
Empty.
"Of course," she muttered, sighing. "No coffee, no breakfast. Perfect."
She checked the fridge—just as barren.
Shivering slightly from the morning chill, she changed into a hoodie and cap, tied her hair into a loose knot, and stepped outside. On her way to the grocery store, the scent of Korean toast lured her in, and she bought two servings. As the vendor flipped the toast with a satisfying sizzle, Rhea snapped a picture and sent it to Yoongi.
"Are you up? I got you breakfast. Ran out of coffee so I'm heading to the store."
There was no reply. She smiled softly. He's probably still asleep... lucky.
She began walking again, munching on her toast. The world was quiet, peaceful—until it wasn't.
The grocery run was simple enough. Coffee, toiletries, enough food to last the week. But while waiting at the vending machine for her canned coffee, she felt it.
A tap on her shoulder.
She turned—and immediately felt her stomach flip.
"Jax," she whispered, breath stolen.
"My cherry," he crooned with a slurred grin. "What a beautiful morning to start with!"
His voice was loud. People turned.
Rhea froze. Her fingers tightened around the coffee can. "What the fuck do you want?"
Jax laughed, the reek of alcohol making her eyes sting. "Still a feisty little bitch, huh?"
She turned on her heel, but he grabbed her wrist roughly. The coffee slipped from her hand and splashed onto her skin, scalding her.
She yelped in pain.
Jax leaned in, too close. "Don't you remember what I do when you walk away from me?"
His words sliced into her. Old wounds tore open, and her body remembered every bruise, every whispered threat, every silent cry behind locked doors. Her wrist throbbed in his grip.
"Don't make a scene here, Jax," she said, her voice low but trembling.
He smirked. "Since you asked nicely…" He let go. "For now." Then, without warning, he snatched her groceries.
In a flash of rage, Rhea kicked him hard in the shin, snatched her purse, and ran.
She didn't stop to breathe. Her feet didn't pause. She hailed a taxi with shaking hands and collapsed into the back seat, blurting out Yoongi's address.
Her hand stung, her heart pounded, and her soul felt like it had been dragged back in time. The city blurred past the window, but inside, everything was frozen in fear.
She tried to call Yoongi, but her fingers wouldn't cooperate. They trembled too much. Her throat burned from holding back tears.
When the taxi stopped, she threw cash at the driver and stumbled out. Her knees threatened to buckle as she hurried up the steps of Yoongi's shared dorm.
The door opened after a moment, revealing Jin in pajama pants and a sleepy expression.
"Rhea?" His eyes widened. "What happened?!"
He ushered her inside, shocked at her appearance—disheveled hair, red eyes, coffee stains on her jacket, and a raw, red mark encircling her wrist.
"Go to the kitchen. Put your hand under running water. I'll get Yoongi."
Rhea obeyed, wordlessly. The water hissed as it met her burn, and she winced, pressing her palm against the cold.
Seconds later, Yoongi appeared in the doorway, breathless. His hair stuck up in messy tufts, and his eyes were wide with alarm.
"Rhea," he breathed, coming to her.
She smiled weakly at his bedhead. "Nice look."
He ignored the joke. His fingers cupped her cheek, gently turning her face, scanning her injuries. His eyes darkened at the sight of her wrist.
"What happened?" he asked, voice low and hard.
She cleared her throat, voice almost childlike. "My ex. At the store. I didn't know he was in the city. He grabbed me."
Yoongi turned off the faucet and gently patted her hand with a towel, his silence louder than any scream. His jaw clenched. Veins strained against his skin.
"I couldn't stop shaking," she whispered. "I ran. I didn't know where else to go."
"You did the right thing," he murmured, still not meeting her eyes. "I just wish I'd been there."
When Jin returned with burn ointment, Yoongi applied it with featherlight care. Rhea flinched and apologized, over and over. Jin gave her a bottle of water and a gentle pat before leaving them alone again.
"Yoongi, I'm sorry—"
"Stop," he said. "You don't have to apologize for being hurt."
"I'm trying, but it's like—" Her voice cracked. "Like I'm still there. Like I'm back in that room. Back in those days. My hands won't stop shaking. I saw his face, and it was like... like the world swallowed me again."
She stood, pacing now. "I'm scared. I'm so scared, and I hate that he still has that power. I gave the taxi driver all my money without thinking. I broke a mug when Jin came in. I can't even tell where the pain ends and the fear begins—"
Glass shattered as she knocked something over.
"Rhea!" Yoongi caught her hands before she could kneel. He cut his finger on a shard, but didn't even flinch.
"Stop. Just... breathe."
Tears rolled down her face as she looked at the blood on his finger.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again.
Yoongi wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. "You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you. Not again."
Later: At the Taping Set
Yoongi managed to get her into a fresh change of clothes. She wore his oversized hoodie, sleeves draping over her hands, his scent grounding her. As they arrived at the studio for their shoot, Rhea sat quietly beside him in the van, staring out the window, lost.
Her breathing was calm now, but her eyes remained distant.
On set, Yoongi quickly briefed the staff that Rhea would be staying close. They offered a private corner with a small monitor and snacks. She smiled faintly and thanked them.
The camera rolled. Yoongi switched on his idol persona, charismatic and professional, but Rhea noticed it—the little glances. The subtle worry in his eyes every time he looked her way.
She tried to smile back. She really did.
But when the boom mic clanged accidentally, she flinched.
When a male staff member walked by too close behind her, she stiffened.
When someone laughed too loud behind her, she nearly dropped her water bottle.
Yoongi noticed everything. His jaw clenched again. The moment the cameras cut, he walked over and knelt beside her.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
"I'm trying," she whispered, biting her lip. "But it's like my body keeps reacting, even when I don't want it to."
He placed his hand over hers. "Then let it. You don't need to perform healing. Not here. Not now."
"But I'm messing up your day."
"You are my day," he said simply.
Tears threatened again, but this time they were different. She nodded, breathing in deeply. The scent of his hoodie. The sound of his voice.
Safe.