i swear my bias is jun

And now here he is, wondering what you're trying to say as you whine and wrap yourself in your blanket, cursing your uterus for the monthly predicament you're currently in.

"You okay?" He asks just for the sake of it, biting his lip to block a laugh at your glare.

"Do I look okay?"

"Anything I can do to help you feel better?"

That's what you love about him: he's direct and he doesn't waste time when he's confused. But sometimes you also wish he'd just take a hint and coddle you without you spelling things out for him.

Seriously, you're squirming on your shared bed hugging yourself and it's still not clear that you want him to hold you? Haven't you been doing this each month for the past two years you've been dating?

So you let out more whining noises, none of the things coming out of your mouth are actual words, much to his amusement.

He sits by the bed and huffs your name, his palm caresses your head as he asks once again if there's anything you want him to do.

Honestly, he knows you probably want to cuddle or something. As much as he's dense, Wonwoo is also smart. Had you wanted to be left alone, you wouldn't be whining and pouting at him like you're doing right now.

Still, he's in one of his playful mood and you seem to be more adorable today, for some reason.

"Wonwoooooo." You cry for his name, your frown deepens when he simply chuckles with a hum.

"I don't know what you want me to do." You narrow your eyes at the mock confusion in his tone complete with that familiar twinkle in his eyes. "You have to tell me, Flower. I'm a little dense, remember?"

You glare as he uses the words you told him so many longs ago against you, and it's when you huff and turn the other way around to put on a show of being annoyed that Wonwoo relents with a laugh.

The way you elbow him as soon as he slips under the blanket behind you is almost calculated, but you still melt into his embrace and relish in the way his chest vibrates when he laughs at your sorry attempt to hurt him.

"Why are you still embarrassed to ask for a cuddle?" His lips tickle your neck as he whispers, making you squirm a little before you turn around to face him.

"Shut up."

"I thought you said I need to talk more?"

"I take that back. You're annoying. Shut up."

There's nowhere he'd rather be, alright.

"Should I leave you alone then?" He threatens emptily, knowing well enough there's nowhere he'd rather be than here.

He laughs at your pout, grabbing your hand that hit his shoulder before proceeding to link his fingers with yours. His eyes still refuse to leave you though, and when you use your other hand to cover his face, he simply huffs an amused breath as he avoids your palm.

It's funny how you still manage to make his heart flutters. Make it pounds against his chest loudly again and again and again even when you're doing nothing but send a smile his way.

He's not sure why you also still have it in you to be flustered when he stares at you when you've been together for quite long, a favorite hobby of his that he usually does when you're not looking.

Had he known your reaction would be this adorable to the point where it hurts, he would've done it sooner.

Alas.

"You're really not going to stop?" You whine, leaning your cheek on the back of his hand that's holding yours in hostage.

"You haven't told me why I should." He teases you further, mirroring the tilt of your head. He's in one of his playful mood today and your reaction isn't helping at all.

"It's flustering me." You admit in a whisper, and you suspect Jihoon could probably tell you're being honest by the way your cheeks are heating up from his consistant gaze. "Why are you in this mood?"

"I just like looking at you." He shrugs nonchalantly, like his words didn't just awaken the butterflies in your stomach. Thousands of them and they're all wild. It's too much. But it feels good and you're not sure if you want him to stop or keep going. "I can't look at you?"

"Whatever." You settle, leaning forward to hide yourself in his neck instead. If he's not going to stop looking at you, then you're gonna do it yourself.

His chest vibrates with laughter at the contrast between your word and your action, wrapping his arms around you then drops a kiss on top of your head.

Seungcheol & Vernon

Good enough that they know what applications and brushes to use

Bad enough to not do anything too fancy or outside of just making you naturally prettier than you already are

Familiar with products and things either from their female siblings back in the day and/or from watching you fondly do your routine

Kind of protest because you're already pretty and don't need makeup

A very domestic activity

Jeonghan, Joshua, & Minghao

Very good at applying makeup

They have a sort of delicacy in their hands that allows them to adeptly and deftly apply it evenly and smooth

But they're good enough that they also can really do a bad job on purpose or something silly like cute cat whiskers if they're feeling mischievous

Which is quite often

Great for Halloween parties fr they religiously watch tutorials for the weirdest, most complicated ones to try

You are their muse and empty canvas

Junhui, Hoshi, Seokmin, & Chan

Please don't put them anywhere near makeup

They're very confused — what does what, what does this do? No you can't eat that!!

Might accidentally break something too

But they really try, they're just confused

They love to watch you in awe

Wonwoo & Jihoon

Kind of forget they're supposed to be putting makeup on you because you'll demonstrate on their wrist or something and then they're applying it all over their face instead out of curiosity

But you're both giggling and having a good time and that's all that matters

They know what to do but they're very stiff about it

You're too pretty so up close and personal it flusters them

And highlighting your best features only makes them more nervous because EVERYTHING about you is just so pretty

So they just kinda stare at you

Especially if your eyes are closed, lips pursed as you wait for them to apply something

Only to open them and they're suddenly super close and jump away like they totally weren't entranced and trying to kiss you

Mingyu & Seungkwan

Fabulous, the only men you can truly trust

Actually have skincare routines better than you so they make sure to have you do them too

They really like when you ask actually

It's like a 2hr+ ritual but you definitely feel fresher afterward and look bomb af

Your skin actually glows

Best looking couple

Prolly setting all the trends tbh

However, as time passed, he grew fond of you, and you, him. The stark white line he drew between the two of you began to blur and neither of you tried to do anything to stop it. It started with the gifts. First, it was the sweets; the chocolates in beat up red and silver wrapper because he noticed you liked to snack on them a lot when you were stressed. You had refused the small peace offering, but he left it on the small wooden table in your kitchen anyways. Then it was silver bracelet, a chain design with a small leaf charm – he didn’t know what you liked exactly, but he wanted to give you something to show you his gratitude for putting up with him all these nights, when most girls like you were tucked away in bed dreaming about that new up and coming celebrity, Kim Mingyu (who didn’t love you back even in their dreams by the way). Again, you had refused, but he had clipped it around your wrist when you fell asleep next to him working one night. Most recently, it was the Littman 3 stethoscope you had been eyeing for months. He got it for you because you told him you liked “practical and useful” things and he had noticed yours was bent from years of being shoved into your crowded backpack – even the earpiece was missing. 

Wonwoo started to stay longer – even until dawn sometimes. The evening before finals, he’d sit on your sunken couch, flipping through magazines and thumbing through some of your textbooks just to keep you company. On Friday evenings, when you should’ve been out at the bars with your friends, you canceled your plans, so you could wait for him. After tending to his wounds, you’d offer to play a movie and the two of you would watch those cheesy 80s teen rom coms in the dark, the grainy pictures flickering different colors across your face.

Neither of you couldn’t be too critical of those movies, however, because it was those movies that brought you close. When Blane kissed Andie in Pretty in Pink, he found himself eyes shut, tenderly cupping your jaw and pressing his lips against yours. The thought of loving you terrified Wonwoo, but he secretly and selfishly savored these small moments: Chinese delivery at 3AM, holding your sleeping figure in his arms while Lara Jean ran away from John Ambrose (you seemed to really enjoy that fake dating trope for some reason), and even daring to sit out on your balcony whispering sweet nothings to each other, pretending to see stars beyond the city haze. 

He knew this wouldn’t last due to the nature of his job, an undercover cop infiltrating the largest gang in town. It was dangerous for him, and most importantly, dangerous for you. Yet, he stayed anyway. 

Wonwoo’s missions were getting increasingly risky, his injuries worse every time he came to you. The gash across his abdomen was beyond what you thought you could do. Despite your tears and begging on your knees for him to go to the county hospital, he didn’t. Like he’s told you many times, he couldn’t go to the county hospital– he was a wanted man and he’d only get imprisoned after they fixed him up. 

Swiping at your tears and sniffling, you did your best to clean him up and stitch his wounds with the few supplies you had. Eyelids heavy, Wonwoo admired you as you concentrated on your work, carefully threading the nylon through his macerated skin and bringing the sides of the wound together, before pulling it taut and tying it off. Your brows were knitted together, a droplet of sweat rolling down your temple. Your eyes were rimmed with red, your under eyes swollen from all the crying he had caused (he was sincerely sorry). He wanted to trace his finger down the curvature of your nose, his thumb brushing across your plush lips – perhaps he’d give you a kiss when all this was over. 

He loved you, but he couldn’t say it – out loud at least. 

Sitting back on your heels, you let out a shaky breath, your eyes examining your repair. Once you were satisfied, you recklessly tossed your tools into the tray, they clanged against each other with a loud clatter. Reaching for your last piece of gauze, you pressed it against the top of the saline bottle to dampen it, then ran it carefully across the wound to clean up the dried blood. Wonwoo let out a hiss, and you muttered for him to stay still. You took an oversized cotton swab and dressed it with povidone. 

You searched your kit for a bandage large enough to cover the ugly mark, but found nothing. Angrily, you tossed the small boxes and hot packs out of the kit, tears threatening to spill from your eyes again. Wonwoo reached over and stopped you, his fingers wrapping firmly around your wrist. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice hoarse. 

You refused to look at him. 

“Look at me,” he asked, “Please.”

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you hesitantly turned around to face him, though your eyes were set on the ugly yellow cushion of your couch. You feared you would cry again – out of anger, confusion, sadness. 

You felt his fingers trace along your forehead down your temple, gently teasing away the fringes that fell across your face when you worked. His fingers lingered longer, and like he had imagined earlier, the back of his finger trailed down the bridge of your nose and barely grazed across your lips before he came down to hold your chin and tilt your head up, so your eyes would meet. 

He offered you a melancholic smile, something between a “thank you, darling” and “I’m sorry, darling.”

Darling because that’s what he called you. Never your name, but darling. 

“What are we doing, Wonwoo?” you whimpered. 

He hushed you, catching the first tear with the pads of his thumbs. He frowned a little at your fragile state – he wasn’t sure if it was empathy for putting up with him or fear that you didn’t want him anymore. You were tired and it was clear on your features. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“It’ll be okay,” Wonwoo whispered. “I promise.”

“I don’t think I can keep doing this,” you told him, your hands shaking in his lap. “I . . . can’t.”

“Darling.”

You scoffed half-heartedly, shaking your head and pulled yourself out of his hold. “Darling.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brows together in confusion. What was a name of endearment to him sounded like poison being spat out of your mouth. 

“You don’t want to say my name, because you might attach a meaning to it. You’re afraid to define someone you’re going to lose as a ‘friend’ or ‘girlfriend’,” your lashes fluttered prettily, tears clinging onto each strand like diamonds strung on thread, only a bittersweet gaze in your eyes. “Right?”

Wonwoo’s lips remained pressed together. His lack of an answer was more than enough for you. You let out a shaky sigh and he watched you stand up. Your heart yearned for him with each step backwards, but you knew you had to stop here before it was too late. 

Wonwoo’s body screamed for him to leap up from the couch and come running after you. He wanted to pull you into his embrace and  never let you go. He wanted to tell you it was okay and spill all his secrets (including loving you) he had kept locked away in his heart. 

But, the reality was, he couldn’t. 

His wound kept him bedriddened, any sudden movement and he would writhe in pain. Any peep of his real identity and he’d breach his contract and your life would be on the line. 

it’s been hours since then, though. hours since you’ve stumbled home with work tousled hair and wrinkled clothes, since you’d freshened up and gotten ready for bed with a few words shared between you. hours since you dropped your bags at the front door in search of him, always, and allowing yourself to sag into his embrace.

now, your hand curls around the fabric of his hoodie, grey cotton pliant under your fingers, and his heart skips a horrid beat amongst the realization that you trust him enough to let down your walls and be vulnerable with him like this. to let him hold you at your most exhausted, and see you in ways only he can.

“wonu,” you sigh, and shift impossibly closer. his warmth becomes your shared warmth, and the sounds of his friends’ silence in his ear fades to nothingness. “‘m tired,”

“it’s late,” he agrees quietly, apologetic. “sorry.”

you shake your head, rustling against his shoulder, and the content exhale that leaves your lips spreads through his body like a warm breeze. “s’okay. you can finish your game, i know chan must be wondering what’s holding you.”

he huffs a laugh at chan’s quiet affirmative through the headset but can’t bring himself to unpause the game. wonwoo rubs your back soothingly, head resting atop yours, and contemplates going to bed. you’re home now, meaning he could go to bed and rest easy, but…

‘go.’ vernon’s voice shakes him from this thoughts, pulling him back into the present. wonwoo’s gaze falls back to your sleepy form, lashes resting upon your cheeks. ‘i’m sure you’re tired. we’ve got work tomorrow, anyways. go.’

“thanks,” is his quiet reply, mic pulled back in place but still mindful of your tired state. “goodnight, everyone.”

“night,” you add, voice airy with fatigue, and wonwoo smiles faintly at the sound of soonyoung’s complaints about still being single. removing the headset, he’s quick to log out and hoist your form into his arms and slowly pad across the room to bed.

your arms reach for him the second he lays you down in the comfort of linen sheets, drawing him closer until you curve naturally into each other like two fitted puzzle pieces clicking together. he draws miscellaneous shapes into the back of your shirt, head rested atop yours once more, and with shared murmurs of love, he finally allows himself to drift off.

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