She observes like a trained investigator, left leg draped over the other, body arched as she simply watches him laying peacefully in the hotel bed. Fingertips gently graze against the rough fabric of her pencil skirt before she hears a lethargic hum departing from his lips, followed by his tired gaze, barely peering through tired lashes. The harsh lighting of the room makes it difficult for him to open his eyes, though he can feel her presence just meters away, her usually fruity scent evident to his senses. 

“Chaeyoung?” 

His voice is groggy like the morning, despite it being a little past three in the afternoon as he suddenly makes fast movements, attempting to lean his tired body against the headboard. 

“What are you doing here?” 

She quickly slides her slender frame off the table, quickly making her way to the side of his bed, her hand pressed firmly against his chest. 

“Sit. Relax,” her voice is a contradiction, demanding yet comforting as she hushes him, strands of her chestnut locks dropping against his skin, “… you need to rest, you’ve been overworked.” 

He’s trying not to think about it, though it seems to be the one thing that plays like an overhyped mantra in the back of his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he knows he doesn’t have to say it, yet he does, “… about my voice cracking, I embarrassed the company and the boys it won’t—”

“Stop,” she doesn’t let him continue, pulling a chair beside the bed, taking a seat, “… it’s not your fault, it’s our. We shouldn’t have overworked you, I’m taking full responsibility. Not just you, all of you. I’ve been so focused on adjusting since I’ve taken over that I overlooked at how hectic the planned schedules have been, so it’s completely my fault and I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Chaeyoung.” 

She seems to disagree, shaking her head. 

“I promis