The dangerous thing about emotional comfort…
was how naturally it became important.
At first, Saloni conversations with Kairo were just unexpected.
Then comforting.
Then familiar.
And now?
Now her day quietly revolved around them without she even realizing it.
It had been four days since her emotional breakdown night.
And thankfully— today felt lighter.
Not perfect.
But manageable.
Which honestly counted as progress.
The weather outside looked unusually bright for once.
Sunlight spilled softly through her curtains while her room remained half-covered in books, sticky notes, and unfinished assignments.
Her political science notebook rested open beside her.
This time—
She were actually studying.
Miracle.
Her phone vibrated beside the laptop.
And before checking it—
She smiled automatically again.
Hopeless.
Completely hopeless.
> @Kairo.97:
> “Update: Yahon stole my banana milk again.”
She blinked.
Then immediately laughed.
> “This sounds like a serious crime.”
Seen instantly.
> “Exactly.”
Another message appeared.
> “Nobody here respects my suffering.”
> “Maybe because your suffering sounds dramatic.”
> “You sound exactly like deamin hyung.”
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
This was new.
Usually he mentioned the members casually.
But today felt different somehow.
Softer.
Closer.
She typed carefully.
> “Should I be concerned?”
Seen.
Then:
> “Probably.”
A smile stayed on her lips while sunlight warmed the room softly.
And suddenly—
Her phone rang.
Again.
Her eyes widened instantly.
Call from:
@Kairo.97
“Oh no.”
Panic immediately returned.
Because texting felt safe.
Calling?
Calling felt real.
She stared at the screen while her heartbeat completely lost stability again.
The call ended after a few seconds.
Then instantly— a message arrived.
> “You rejected me again.”
She covered her face dramatically.
Seen.
Then:
> “It’s literally just my voice.”
Her fingers paused.
Because somehow…
that sentence made her chest feel strange.
Not nervous exactly.
Just aware.
Aware that this connection was slowly becoming more than words on a screen.
She typed slowly.
> “That’s exactly the problem.”
The typing bubble appeared instantly.
Then disappeared.
Then came back again.
Finally:
> “You overthink a lot, don’t you?”
She stared at the message quietly.
Then sighed softly.
Because unfortunately— he wasn’t wrong.
She replied honestly.
> “Constantly.”
Seen.
Then another message appeared.
> “Okay.”
She blinked.
> “Okay what?”
> “Then let’s make this less scary.”
Before she could ask what he meant—
Her phone rang again.
Her heartbeat instantly betrayed her.
She stared at the screen for three whole seconds this time.
Then finally— with shaking fingers—
She answered.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Her breathing became uneven immediately.
Why was this suddenly terrifying?
Then softly— a low familiar voice spoke through the phone.
“Hi.”
Her chest stopped functioning normally.
Completely.
Because hearing him through headphones felt entirely different from reading texts.
Warmer.
Realer.
Closer.
And somehow…
far more dangerous.
She sat frozen near her desk while gripping her phone tightly.
“…Hi,” she answered quietly.
Her own voice sounded nervous.
Wonderful.
A tiny laugh came from the other side.
Not teasing.
Soft.
“You sound scared.”
“I am.”
Another small laugh.
And strangely…
it calmed her heartbeat slightly instead of making her panic more.
Outside, sunlight moved softly across the room while silence settled between both of them again.
But unlike before— this silence didn’t feel awkward.
Like both of them were adjusting to hearing each other properly for the first time.
“You were actually studying?” he asked suddenly.
She gasped dramatically.
“You doubted me?”
“A little.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
His quiet laugh reached her ears again.
And honestly?
That sound alone felt unfairly comforting.
She leaned back slowly against her chair while her heartbeat finally started calming.
Conversation flowed awkwardly at first.
Then naturally.
Like texting had simply found a voice now.
He talked about practice.
She complained about assignments.
He asked about her migraines again.
She asked if he ever rested properly.
And somewhere during the conversation—
She forgot to panic.
Which honestly shocked her more than anything else.
At one point, she laughed too loudly at something stupid Yahon apparently did during practice.
And suddenly— the line became quiet.
“…What?” she asked softly.
A pause.
Then quietly—
“You laugh differently when it’s real.”
Her breath caught instantly.
The room suddenly felt warmer.
Because nobody had ever said something like that to her before.
Not about her real laugh.
Not about the difference between genuine happiness and forced smiles.
And somehow…
that tiny observation affected her more deeply than compliments ever could.
She looked down at her notes quietly while her heartbeat softened painfully again.
Dangerous.
This was becoming dangerously important.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the world—
Kairo leaned back against the studio couch while listening to her quiet breathing through the phone.
And strangely…
after exhausting days full of noise, pressure, and expectations— this call felt peaceful.
Not exciting.
Not dramatic.
Just peaceful.
And maybe that’s why neither of them wanted to hang up first.
Almost an hour later, she finally glanced at the time.
Her eyes widened instantly.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“I wasted one hour.”
“You say that like this conversation wasn’t important.”
Silence.
Her chest tightened softly again.
Because maybe…
that was exactly the problem.
It was becoming important.
Very important.
She smiled faintly while standing near her balcony window.
The evening sky looked soft orange now.
And somehow— for the first time in a long while—
Her heart didn’t feel emotionally heavy today.
Just warm.
Quietly warm.