Totheseven🐣

whenever you wake up, the first thing you noticed wasn’t the sunlight pouring in through the window, or the beautiful symphony of the birds chirping. not even the gentle hum of the AC.

what you first noticed was him.

“good morning,” anton mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep as his face was buried somewhere between your neck and shoulder. 

you blink, your mind still in a haze due to waking up, when you realize you physically can’t move.

his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. one of his legs is hooked over yours while his hand is resting under your shirt, warm against your stomach as his fingers flexed slightly, like he was making sure you’re still there. 

“anton,” you mumbled, your voice scratchy. “i can’t feel my leg.”

“that’s okay,” he replied, almost immediately. he buried his face deeper against you, his grip tightening instantaneously. “it’s not like you need it right now.” 

you let out a quiet laugh at that, even if you tried to, unsuccessfully, wiggle free. 

“antonnnn, you’re crushing me.” 

“i’m cuddling you.” he corrected, not moving an inch.

“you’ve been cuddling me for eight hours now.” 

“and i’ll do it for eight more.” he smiled, pressing you closer against his body just to prove a point. you sighed, but there was no real frustration behind it. this was just him.

anton’s the kind of boyfriend who always has to be touching you in some sort of way, but not always in a suffocating, overwhelming sort of way. something more like a hand on your waist. fingers laced with yours. his head on your shoulder. your hand in his hoodie pocket when it’s cold outside. 

but right now he’s being particularly stubborn. 

“baby,” you try again, softer this time. “i have to get up.“

“you don’t have to.” he emphasized. he wasn’t gonna budge at all. you groaned, trapped in his iron grip. “you’re impossible.”

“mhm, but you love me. come on, please don’t get up?” he asked, his words practically coming out in a whine. 

you sighed in defeat, letting him hold on to you. 

“okay fine, five more minutes.”

“ten?”

“five.” you warned. 

anton frowned, deciding to push his luck. “eight?”

you rolled your eyes. “fine we can just do ten.”

he beamed at you like a child on christmas day. he settles back in, completely content as his hand drew lazy circles on your side. you stared at the ceiling for a bit, before glancing at him.

“you’re lucky you’re so pretty.” 

“i know,” he hummed, smiling against your neck. 

whenever you wake up, the first thing you noticed wasn’t the sunlight pouring in through the window, or the beautiful symphony of the birds chirping. not even the gentle hum of the AC.

what you first noticed was him.

“good morning,” anton mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep as his face was buried somewhere between your neck and shoulder. 

you blink, your mind still in a haze due to waking up, when you realize you physically can’t move.

his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. one of his legs is hooked over yours while his hand is resting under your shirt, warm against your stomach as his fingers flexed slightly, like he was making sure you’re still there. 

“anton,” you mumbled, your voice scratchy. “i can’t feel my leg.”

“that’s okay,” he replied, almost immediately. he buried his face deeper against you, his grip tightening instantaneously. “it’s not like you need it right now.” 

you let out a quiet laugh at that, even if you tried to, unsuccessfully, wiggle free. 

“antonnnn, you’re crushing me.” 

“i’m cuddling you.” he corrected, not moving an inch.

“you’ve been cuddling me for eight hours now.” 

“and i’ll do it for eight more.” he smiled, pressing you closer against his body just to prove a point. you sighed, but there was no real frustration behind it. this was just him.

anton’s the kind of boyfriend who always has to be touching you in some sort of way, but not always in a suffocating, overwhelming sort of way. something more like a hand on your waist. fingers laced with yours. his head on your shoulder. your hand in his hoodie pocket when it’s cold outside. 

but right now he’s being particularly stubborn. 

“baby,” you try again, softer this time. “i have to get up.“

“you don’t have to.” he emphasized. he wasn’t gonna budge at all. you groaned, trapped in his iron grip. “you’re impossible.”

“mhm, but you love me. come on, please don’t get up?” he asked, his words practically coming out in a whine. 

you sighed in defeat, letting him hold on to you. 

“okay fine, five more minutes.”

“ten?”

“five.” you warned. 

anton frowned, deciding to push his luck. “eight?”

you rolled your eyes. “fine we can just do ten.”

he beamed at you like a child on christmas day. he settles back in, completely content as his hand drew lazy circles on your side. you stared at the ceiling for a bit, before glancing at him.

“you’re lucky you’re so pretty.” 

“i know,” he hummed, smiling against your neck. 

now— why does any of this matter? you aren't really supposed to care about jiwoong or ricky or anything that isn't your coursework, you have duties to fulfill as apart of the student council, you have no time for love.

but life seems to have other plans, because you somehow get dragged off to some rendezvous matthew planned. great. just great. matthew dragging you out of your room when you have important work to do is just such a regular thing for him to do, you hate it.

"why are you so down?"

you snicker, immediately recognizing jiwoong's voice. "i'm not down, i'm annoyed because matt decided to drag me out of my room".

your response humors jiwoong, and it's clear by the way a small smile spreads across his face. he doesn't seem to care about gyuvin and gunwook's screams as they attempt to throw taerae into the pool, he just deal with shit like this all the time. "is star student y/n not a fan of pool parties?"

"i'm not a fan of being distracted from my studies".

this conversation is going a strange way, you note, but jiwoong laughs again. he's beautiful, so beautiful, a guy like this could never be in love with you, and it's so obvious why.

"y/n".

your attention is taken away from jiwoong, and placed onto ricky, who seems to come out of nowhere. he takes notice of jiwoong, narrowing his eyes at the older boy, but he doesn't say anything to him. "you wanna go get ice cream?"

"um.. i—"

"we were having a conversation" jiwoong smiles politely. oh. the realization dawns on you. he doesn't know that ricky is in love with you, this isn't some sort of cocky remark, they are genuine words from him. "hi ricky".

"hi" ricky doesn't see it, though, he thinks jiwoong is trying to compete with him. you lightly punch ricky in his shoulder, telling him to cut it out. "anyway, y/n, you want popsicles?"

"uh.. not really, i just kinda wanna sit—"

"please?"

oh my goodness, is he really begging for you to go get popsicles with him? you click your tongue, rolling your eyes.

"can jiwoong come too?"

"oh i really don't have to!"

"no no no" you stand up, smiling at the older as you clasp your hands together. "i insist, nothing brings people together like popsicles, right?" you inquire.

your lying, you just want to piss off ricky, and spend more time with jiwoong. now, this is probably not the best idea, but ricky won't actually do anything crazy, he's just as big of a fan of jiwoong as you are.

"i mean—" ricky pauses, he wants alone time with you, but you don't want that. he is the one who offered up popsicles, he can just say no to jiwoong joining the two of you..

but he doesn't.

"alright then! popsicles for three!"