His heart corrals in the vision of Park Chaeyoung. He stares with eyes of pure fondness, feeling the sides of his lips curl upwards into a tender smile as she wears one of his favourite expressions across her lips. She’s fast asleep on the passenger seat of the car, completely silent beyond the occasional murmur in her sleep whenever they’d brake a little too rough. He takes the moment to watch her properly, to carve a mental note of every part of her in her expression for his own memory. Park Chaeyoung for the first time in a long time, looks as though her heart is at peace and even in her sleep, was she capable of maintaining her usual graceful demeanour. 

He watches as the hoodie that he’d strategically placed on her lap (after making some outrageous lie about how he’s burning hot) to keep her modesty begins to slip down her legs, agile fingertips carefully pulling it up. She fidgets in her sleep, but after a minute of silence falls back into complete silence. 

He likes it. 

Kim Taehyung knows well how much she’d needed the sleep and more importantly, how easily she was able to neglect such a vital part to her health without him. 

He’s been parked in the carpark of the overpriced korean barbecue place (a worthwhile investment, may he add given the privacy and taste) for a little over half an hour and despite the way in which his heart was screaming at him to drive away so that she could have a little more sleep, he knows that she’ll most likely be upset at him if he keeps her away from work for too long. 

“Chaeyoung, we’ve arrived,” he squeezes onto her kneecap gently, careful to speak in a volume that eased her into a world away from her sleep, “… my stomach is growling let’s go.” 

He’s lying. 

Somewhere between seeing her in the office and watching her in blissful sleep seemingly suppressed his appetite, or perhaps, just transferred his need for food into an urgency for her. 

Blinking her way into awareness, she tilts her head with a gentle smile nodding. 

“I’m sorry, I guess your driving was that good that I was able to fall into a coma almost,” her voice is groggy, heavy in the way it always sounded in the morning, accompanied by a dry giggle that suddenly makes his stomach flutter as it would a teenage boy, “… if being an idol doesn’t work out you could totally be