Jonghyun wanders into the living room at a quarter past midnight, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. His eyes take several seconds to adjust to the low lamplight in the room and he blinks hard a few times before focusing on the girl sitting on the floor in front of the small coffee table. He quirks his lips a little, sighing softly at the sight that greets him once he can see properly. Eunsook is sitting in a way that closely resembles the fetal position, Jonghyun's hoodie and sweats practically swallowing her smaller form. He takes note of the way her hair falls messily over her shoulder, the blue ribbon looking like it's going to slip out any second. He tilts his head a bit, catching a better glimpse of her face, and she's not crying yet—a very good sign.

He debates whether or not to scare her, and decides he shouldn't, not tonight. So instead he steps forward, making sure to be loud enough to be heard as he doesn't want to startle her in this mood.

"Noona?" he asks softly, sitting on the couch behind her and resting his chin on the top of her head. "What're you doing up so late?" he continues, even though he knows the answer. He scrunches his nose as his eyes rove over the old yearbooks and recent photos scattered all over the table. And while he knows they're important, and likes going through them himself occasionally, part of him thinks he should gather them all up and burn them. He doesn't think they're worth keeping around if they upset Eunsook this much every single time.

"Just reminiscing," she mumbles, voice low and choked, and it's worse than Jonghyun thought it was.

"Even though it upsets you?" he asks softly, gently tugging the ribbon from her hair and laying it over his knee, working his fingers through the tangles of her hair.

"I just...I can't help it," she sighs, flipping another page in her old yearbook. He moves his head to see which one it is and winces. The sports, more specifically cheerleading.

He starts dividing her hair into three parts, guiding her into the same conversation they have every time this happens. "Why tonight?" he asks, stretching his feet forward to tap his toes against hers.

"Had a dream," she says, sniffling. He watches with a frown as she brings her hands down, shoving them in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He can see her fingers moving through the fabric—knows she's scratching away at herself through the hoodie—and he wants to grab her hands and hold them in his own, but he doesn't. It'll only make her angry, and that's not what he's going for tonight.

"Tell me about it?" he murmurs, moving the strands of hair over and under each other, slipping his feet beneath hers as he does so, tapping them against the floor in hopes that he'll throw her off balance and she'll need to use her hands for something else.

She doesn't, just leans against his thigh, her nose brushing the skin just below the hem of his boxers and he bites his lip, hating that he can feel her tears. "Don't wanna," she finally mumbles, hiccupping a little.

"That bad?" he asks, finishing up the braid and tying it off with the blue ribbon.

A nod, and he can feel his heart breaking. "Hey," he says softly, pushing her forward just enough so that he can sink to the floor behind her. "Hey look at me," he says again, chin on her shoulder as he nuzzles his nose against her neck, stray hairs that fell out of her braid tickling him.

She doesn't, and so he grabs her braid, brushing the end against her cheek softly, pretending to paint little hearts all across her damp skin. She finally frees her hands then, yanking the hair away from him in irritation, and even though he doesn't like that she's annoyed, he likes that she's stopped.

He wraps both arms around her, making sure to thread their fingers together—both hands—so that she can't put them back in her pocket, or worse. "Sookie?" he asks, rocking them a little. "Talk to—"

"I'm gaining weight," she cuts him off, voice low, and rushed to the point that he almost misses it. But he doesn't, and he gives her hands a gentle squeeze, peppering her neck and jaw with kisses.

"In the dream?" he questions, pausing with his lips half-pressed to her shoulder.

The way that she pulls her hands away and wraps her arms around her knees, dropping her head to rest on them is enough to tell Jonghyun everything that he doesn't want to know. He rubs her arms soothingly, kissing her shoulder again.  "It's obviously not a lot," he mumbles, sure that came out wrong, but it's the truth. "I didn't notice it. I don't see a difference."

"That's because you're stupid and don't pay attention," she snaps, and he laughs because her voice lacks any kind of conviction.

"On the contrary, I think I pay lots of attention," he retaliates, thinking that he could go for the deeper things, but he doesn't. They're almost playful now, he thinks, and he wants to keep it that way. He just wants to make her feel better now.

"Oh yeah?" she challenges, turning her face fully toward him for the first time tonight, one eyebrow raised. And he can't help but smile because even with the red eyes, the red nose, the dried tear tracks, and what is admittedly a pretty terrible looking braid, he still finds her beautiful. Charming. Adorable, and all his.

"Yeah," he says, grinning and leaning in close. "Like...I know where all your ticklish spots are!" he laughs, blowing lightly in her ear and over her neck, fingertips poking at her sides in all the right places. He's rewarded with a squeal and her flailing arms, braid smacking him in the face, but he doesn't care, because when he pinches her knee just right she laughs. And that's so much better than tears.

"Jonghyun stop! Jjong!" she yells, trying to wriggle away from him, flicking at his arm.

He decides it's war then, him trying his best to tickle her, and her trying to fight him off with her—rather vicious—flicks. A small scuffle breaks out between them then, the yelling and the laughing coming to a stop seconds later when they both register a loud thud. He pulls back as Eunsook sits up, face scrunching a little in pain as she pokes at her left knee.

Jonghyun feels kind of bad because it really is his fault, but half of him is honestly surprised it didn't happen sooner. He thinks about apologizing, but decides against it for now. It'd just bring the mood down, and that's the last thing that he wants.

"Let Jjongie make it better," he says in the most ridiculous voice he can manage, pulling the leg of her—his—sweatpants up to reveal her red knee. He leans in to press a kiss to it, grinning when he straightens up again. "All better, right?"

She attempts to glare at him, crossing her arms and fighting back a smile. "No," she says, putting on an exaggerated pout, and reaching out with one hand to flick his arm again.

His face lights up as he thinks of an idea. "I know how to fix this," he says, getting to his feet and pulling Eunsook into his arms before she can protest, maneuvering them toward the kitchen. He makes sure to take bouncy steps, swaying from side to side as they go so that all Eunsook can do is cling to him, too focused on holding onto him to spew the usual things. I'm fat. I'm heavy. You'll drop me.

She seems confused when he sets her on the counter and grabs a spoon from the drawer beside her. "What are you doing?" she asks suspiciously, eyes squinting in a way that makes Jonghyun want to laugh.

"Making everything better," he says, nodding his head at her like he's very sure of this as he grabs the carton of ice cream from the freezer, moving to stand in front of her again.

The way that her face falls makes him regret this for just a split second, but he pushes forward with it anyway. It's what his older sister always did, so it had to work, right?

"Jonghyun, I just told you I'm gaining—"

"You don't feel well," he starts, talking over her and popping the lid of the carton off. "You are emotionally upset and physically hurt. So here is my solution," he continues, smiling slightly as she goes quiet. "We're going to eat ice cream," he says, digging out a spoonful and putting it in his mouth.

Eunsook looks less than impressed, frowning and stuffing her hands back in the pocket of the hoodie. Jonghyun quirks his lips at this, holding the spoon in his mouth and pulling her hands out, pushing the ice cream carton into her hands. "And then," he says, pulling the spoon out and getting out another spoonful, "while we're eating, we'll pretend this is an ice pack."

She raises an eyebrow at him, asking the silent question of 'Are you stupid?' Maybe he is, but it doesn't matter, because she doesn't look so upset anymore, and he smiles, gently moving her hands so that the ice cream is resting on her injured knee. He tries to feed her the spoonful next, and after he brings out the puppy eyes she relents, half-heartedly kicking his leg with her foot.

He laughs, moving closer so he's standing between her legs. "Feeling better, right?" he asks, scooping out another spoonful of ice cream and biting off half, offering the rest to her. It takes less prodding this time to get her to eat it, and he smiles again, leaning in to a bit off the corner of her lips.

She snorts at his question and he laughs so hard he drops the spoon on the floor. "What?" she asks, face screwed up in a way that makes him want to laugh all over again.

"I love you," he answers honestly, taking the carton from her hands and placing it on the counter. "I love you, and everything about you. All of you."

"Jonghyun," she breathes, looking like she's going to cry again, and that's not what he wants at all.

"I have a better idea, okay?" he says quickly, helping her off the counter. "It'll be even funner than this one," he continues, picking her up again.

"Funner isn't a word," she protests, her inner nerd kicking in as he takes her back to the living room and he can't help laughing again.

"It is now okay?" he whispers conspiratorially, sinking to the floor in a position similar to earlier, but with her in his lap this time. "It's my word, and we're gonna have funner than fun right now, okay?"

He can feel her stiffen when he drags the open yearbook into her lap, page still on the cheerleaders of their high school years ago. He tries to ignore it, instead pointing to the first girl he lays eyes on. "Now see here, we have Taeyeon, you remember her, right?" he asks, not leaving her enough time to speak because he knows that Eunsook will comment somewhere along the lines of Taeyeon's weight being incredibly low. He doesn't want that. He wants her to focus on other things. "Now see, I know what you're thinking, but let's think about other things, okay? Like maybe the fact that she's got the dumbest look on her face, you can tell she wasn't paying attention to the camera, and do you remember how many cheers she forgot?" he babbles, poking Eunsook's thigh.

"Or that next one," he says, gesturing with his chin. "Gwiboon looks like a dork. She looks all cross-eyed. I bet she was just trying to see, but it's hard when her nose is stuck so high up in the air." This elicits a snort from the girl in his lap and he smiles, resting his chin on her shoulder, cheeks pressed together.

"And just look at Minjung. It's rather comical how tall she is, and just look at her eyes!" he says way too loudly, laughing when Eunsook snorts again. "Sometimes I think they're bigger than Minho's are," he whispers, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth like it's a secret.

"You know," he continues, nodding his head as he works his theory out. "I think she looks even more like an alien than he does. But prettier. Maybe she's one of those ones they send out, to seduce the humans, and bring them back to their brains out!" He kisses all over the side of her face, making the most obnoxious 'brain-' noises he can, and Eunsook is laughing so hard that she has to grab the book to keep it from falling out of her lap.

So maybe it's not the nicest thing to do, making fun of the girls on the cheer squad, but as long as he can make Eunsook laugh and keep her mind off the fact that she's not in the picture because she wasn't 'up to par,' then it's worth it.

And he decides that it really is when they fall asleep on the floor next to the couch, pictures and insecurities forgotten, smiles and laughter dominating their night, instead of tears.