He looked up and smiled politely at your leader Jiyeon as she walked past. She laughed delicately at the adorable scene before her, nodding her head slightly. You, your members, and many other groups were relaxing backstage after performing for a huge rewards show. Your group in particular wasn’t needed again for about three hours, and eventually your exhaustion lead you to your current position.

Your boyfriend was sitting next to you on the floor of the dressing room. He wasn’t required back on stage for an extended period of time either, and had decided to relax with you. Sleepily, you rested your head on his shoulder and quickly drifted off. He didn’t mind the silence. One of his hands ran carefully through your hair as he listened to music, absentmindedly your arm with the other.

Unbeknownst to him, your rest was less than peaceful. You dreamt you were forced into a chair, strapped down with your head facing a small television. Your captor the set, streaming video from a camera installed somewhere else in the building. Your boyfriend appeared on the screen, quietly begging for your help. Hands and fists that seemed unconnected from any person beat at him mercilessly, but no effort of yours could cease the videoed attack.

The person holding you forced your eyes wide as he was slowly battered, bloodied, and bruised, a final blow to his head sending him down to the floor forever. The screen faded away to a heavy darkness, and you thrashed violently, desperate to escape.

You awoke with a start, jumping suddenly from the seated position you had fallen asleep in. A teary stickiness made your eyelids feel heavy as you sat back down next to your boyfriend.

“Sorry….” you mumbled, slightly embarrassed and still shaken by your dream. He shook his head and s his arm back around your waist.

“It’s fine. Nightmare?” You nodded, turning your head to bury your face in his chest.

“It was awful! They were hitting you over and over, and no matter what I didn’t, I couldn’t get out of the chair and help you.” He chuckled slightly.

“It’s okay. It was only a dream. Maybe you should be lying down if you want to sleep.” He took your head in his hands and lowered it onto  his lap.

“You still have like two hours and you need to rest. Go back to sleep now.” He smiled as you stared up at him. “It was only a dream. I promise I’ll be here,” he said, brushing strands of hair from your face.

He reached up to the chair near the two of you, grabbing hold of his flannel jacket. He laid it gently over you as you slept, keeping you warm, safe, and protected from the nightmares from which you were afraid.