#cucawrites

you love your boyfriend. very much.

there's no question about it.

you know it. he knows it. the boys know it.

and you definitely knew what you were getting yourself into when you accepted to be his girlfriend.

he was so shy when he asked you. the memory brings a smile to your lips.

but anyway - that's not the point. a story for another time.

you understood the schedules, the last-minute changes, the late nights at the studio. the long distance periods due to tours and other events.

all of it. you accepted it, and you understood. you really did.

and you gave him the space he needs to do his job properly.

you're also a somewhat busy woman with your own life and job.

he tries his best to keep you updated via text, sending audios when he can't type and sending selfies as well. late-night calls and videochatting when possible.

even when free time is scarce, he still finds the time to ask if you ate. and remember you to take breaks and drink water.

like the perfect loving boyfriend he is.

and you do the same. cause you know that man isn't taking care of himself as he should.

and this brings us to today.

you had just gotten back after visiting your parents for two weeks, you hadn't told your boyfriend you were back yet.

he still thinks you're out of the country. far, far away from him.

you kept your phone off while on the airplane, and it took everything in you to not text him as soon as you landed.

but, it was a long trip and you were exhausted - your plan was to go home, take a quick shower and have a power nap before you go over to the studio to surprise him.

but don't worry - the boys know. in fact, it was their idea in the first place.

they were honestly sick and tired of their leader pouting and sulking around the studio and especially the dorms.

Jeongin can't take it anymore.

he wanted to pick you up himself at the airport and take you directly to Chan, but alas, the others convinced him the plan would fall apart if he did. so you got a taxi and went home on your own.

you kept the boys updated on the group chat you had without Chan - the things that are said in that chat... in a way, Chan isn't raising 7 kids alone anymore.

oftentimes, the chaos is managed without him even knowing of it existing in the first place - you're sure you've gained some grey hairs since you met them.

as you shower, you try your best to ignore the constant pinging of your phone - you had to silence it, and that still isn't enough.

not in the mood to cook, you order something quick, and while you wait, you try to unpack as much as possible - you damn well know that if you procrastinate, you'll never get it done.

and when you get your man home later, you want to relax in his arms. make it up for all the time apart.

also... you know damn well he would try to unpack it himself, and there would be no rest for any of you.

you set an alarm so you don't oversleep and end up with 7 impatient men at your doorstep - it happened before.

still, you weren't able to sleep. you miss him too much.

you end up deciding to go to the studio earlier than planned. you miss your boys.

the good thing is, you're authorised to enter the building and so you don't need one of the kids to go meet you at the entrance.

you buy them lunch on the way over, along with coffee and some snacks. obviously you don't forget the gift bags.

you're a little nervous. not sure how Chan will react to seeing you.

anyway - before you can change your own mind about the whole plan, you manage to carry the food and gifts into the building.

"Noona!!"

you look towards the voice and see Jeongin, grinning and running to you. you pause and smile wide at him.

"Innie!!"

he hugs you tight and offers to help you with the bags - which you're extremely thankful for.

"I'm so glad you're back! You need to control your man" he complains about his hyung all the way to the studio and you can only giggle at his antics.

"I'll bring the bags to the practice room where the rest of the guys are, and we'll leave you two for a bit" you smile at him and thank him.

"I'm really glad you're back noona, I missed you."

"I missed you too Innie!" you hug him and soon you're left alone in front of the studio door.

you watch him go, and when he turns the corner and you stop seeing him, you take a deep breath and you open the door as carefully as you can.

you peek inside and you see him. back turned to the door. in a black hoodie and beanie, with his headphones in place. leg bouncing to the rhythm of what he's listening to.

he has one elbow on the desk, hand supporting his head while the other clicks away at the mouse.

you close the door without making a sound, and you sit behind him on the couch.

for a moment you just sit there and watch him in his element. doing what he does best. what he loves.

in his own little world.

he's so close, yet so far.

the room smells like him. comforting. home.

you missed him. you missed him a lot.

you take your phone out of your pocket and you take a picture of him with his back to you and send it to him.

his own phone pings with the notification. you watch how he pauses and looks at the screen. grabbing the phone when he sees your name on it.

he stares at the picture on his screen. too tired to think logically.

maybe one of the guys took the photo and sent it to you. he knows it's something they often do - they're not as subtle as they think they are.

but he was supposed to be alone in the studio, did one of them come in without him noticing? he sets his headphones aside and turns around, fully expecting to see one of the boys with their phone out, ready to tease him.

but to his shock, he sees you. his girlfriend. the woman he loves the most. the one that was away for two long weeks.

the one he thought was still in a different time zone - something that had made it hard for you both.

but now you're here..

you're sitting on his couch. smiling at him. waiting for him to say something. do something.

he can feel the burn in his nose. the tears pooling. he missed you. he missed you so much.

you both sit there. in silence. looking at each other. not moving. until he does.

soon he's on his knees in front of you. eyes glossy. looking at you like he can't believe you're really here. pouty lips trembling as he holds your hands in his.

"you're here" he whispers, voice cracking.

you smile. your own tears threatening to spill.

take one of your hands from his and cup his face. he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. your warmth. the softness of your skin grounding him.

"I'm here" you whisper back, voice cracking with emotion.

you can feel his tears seeping through your shirt, his body shaking as small sobs rack through him.

his arms wrap around your waist and he hugs you close. as tight as he can without hurting you. gripping your shirt as if you'd be gone if he didn't hold on to you.

head hiding in your chest. you rest your hand on his hair while the other circles around his broad shoulders and you hold him close.

you take off his beanie and run your fingers through his hair softly, kissing the top of his head.

"I missed you so much" his voice heavy with emotion, muffled by your clothes.

"I missed you too, so much"

you both stay there for a while. holding each other. sobs are soon replaced by quiet sniffles and you move to grab his face. he whines a bit at the movement, but you still hold him so he can look at you.

you look at his tear stained cheeks, pouty lips and big boba eyes and your chest swells with so much love for this man. you clean his tears with your thumbs and you lean in to kiss him.

what starts as a small kiss, soon turns to more. his arms tighten around you and he holds onto the softness of your hips pulling you closer to him. your hands hold on to his face, pulling it closer to you. he kneads the softness of your hips and it pulls a moan from you. you hold the hair on the back of his head and he groans into your mouth as you pull it.

you pull away when your lungs start screaming for air, you rest your forehead against his, lips resting against his own. both panting for air, eyes still closed.

despise it all, you can feel yourself getting sleepy. the tiredness of the day and specially the flight finally catching up to you. he notices the shift and chuckles at you. giving you a kiss before pulling away.

you open your eyes at he distances himself, and he coos at you. giggling as you stare at him sleepily.

he guides you to lay down on the couch, and you pull him down with you. not ready to be apart just yet.

he gladly follows, and cuddles with you on the couch. your arms around him as he rests his head on your chest. legs tangled together and arms around each other, you both soon fall asleep.

and it's how moments later the boys find you.

although some *cough* han *cough* wanted to wake you up, they end up covering you up with a blanket and turning of the lights so you both can rest.

but they don't leave without taking a million pictures of the two of you. fully intending to tease their hyung after.

it was late.

he was sure he'd find you asleep in your bed as usual.

but once he was home, he was surprised to find you wide awake in your living room.

he tried to be as quiet as possible, but stopped near the doorway when he saw you lying on the couch, covered with a blanket - the floor lamp casting a golden glow over you and he just stood there. observing you.

he loved seeing you like this. so soft. so domestic. so you.

he could feel himself smile at you. his shoulders relaxing as he leaned against the door frame. arms crossed.

"hey… you’re still up?”

his voice is softer than usual, tired but warm.

you hum in response, not looking away from the tv.

he drops his arms and walks over, hand immediately coming to rest on the back of your neck — thumb brushing slow, absentminded.

he kisses your forehead first, before angling your head upwards and kissing your lips softly.

“did you eat?”

“yeah.”

he hums softly and glances at the table. pauses.

“…baby.”

you look at him.

he’s not annoyed. not even surprised.

just… concerned.

“that’s not dinner.”

you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"what do you mean?"

he simply looks over at the coffee table. silently pointing out the empty bowl.

your eyes follow his, and you understand his concern.

you smile softly at him and adjust your position, grabbing his hands and pulling him towards you.

he tries to break his fall, but fails. he ends up on top of you, giggling softly, and you embrace him, peppering his face with soft kisses.

for a moment, he succumbs to you. relaxing into your softness. sighing in relief as his body finally has the rest it desperately needs.

he relaxes, pulling you even closer and burying his face in your neck, breathing you in.

he kisses your neck and your shoulder before adjusting himself so he could look at you.

"what did you have for dinner?"

you brush your fingers through his hair, and his expression softens. you can still see the concern in his eyes. but you can also see how tired he is and how hard he's trying to fight off sleep.

"Greek yogurt with some granola and strawberries we still had in the fridge." you whisper.

he hums with his eyes closed, but stops. he opens his eyes and stares at you. still processing the information.

"that's not dinner"

he looks sternly at you, still speaking softly. he wasn't mad. just concerned.

he cares deeply about you and wants to take care of you. make sure you take proper care of yourself.

you wanted to bite back. say it was what you had for dinner, therefore it was dinner.

but it was late - he's exhausted and you just want to enjoy your soft boyfriend while you have him with you.

so, instead, you clarify.

"don't you remember?" he looks at you confused.

you sigh softly.

"i had a meeting that ran late, and ended up having a late lunch"

you speak slowly - you could almost see the wheels turning in his overworked mind.

you can see in his eyes the moment he recalls you texting him about it. he had asked if you had eaten. you sneaking a reply mid-meeting. sending him a picture of your food afterwards because you knew he'd continue to worry otherwise.

he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. hums acknowledging.

"right... I remember"

you smile and kiss him. glad you can put an end to this conversation and just cuddle with your boyfriend.

"still... it's not enough"

he mumbles against your lips and you sigh dramatically dropping your head back into the pillow.

he giggles at your exaggeration and drops his head. resting it against your chest. biting lightly at the exposed skin.

hissing slightly as his teeth nibble at your skin. you grab his cheeks and lift his head along with yours. you squish his cheeks, making him pout adorably. he looks at you with those damned boba eyes. he's lucky he's so cute.

"I'll eat something later if I'm hungry"

he tries to protest but you shush him. squishing his cheeks a bit more, his pout getting bigger. you peck it lightly.

"i promise I'll eat later if I'm hungry"

you repeat yourself slower. nodding his head along with yours with each word you say.

you widen your eyes as you stare at his. almost daring him to continue. he closes his in response. trying to smile sheepishly at you.

he opens one eye and looks at you. you loosen your grip on his face. still holding it up.

"we could always go work up an appetite."

his smile widens at his own proposition. eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

"aren't you tired?"

the corner of your own lips lift slightly at the suggestion.

he simply smiles at you, as his hands roam your body. squeezing the softness around your hips.

you open your legs wider automatically and he slots himself between them. pulling you even closer to him as he starts kissing from your chest up to your neck. nibbling at the exposed skin.

"never too tired for you"

he whispers against your ear. your hands travel up to his hair and you pull him closer. you circle your legs around his waist, locking him in place.

he relaxes fully. his exhaustion speaking louder than his desire for you.

with no further words exchanged, you both stay there.

the TV show you were watching, long forgotten, is still playing in the background. his grip on you loosens as he falls asleep on top of you.

you kiss the top of his forehead and let your head rest back against the pillow. fingers still playing with his hair up until you fall asleep as well.

permanent taglist: @lilyxii, @clairementsolo

second nature taglist: @wedontknowherorhimorthem, @my-neurodivergent-world, @jordan1024

skz taglist: @fatbitchgeek-blog

did you enjoy waking up at the break of dawn everyday? hell no.

did you do it anyway? yes. sometimes.

you'd much rather stay in bed and rot until you had to eventually get up for work, but, you needed to be consistent with your routine.

you don't necessarily love the gym. but you don't really hate it either.

would a spa day be more appealing and desperately what you need? yes.

but did the gym also help you with your daily life? also yes.

you lived alone and the elevator in your building was broken more times than not, and so carrying your groceries up to the 5th floor left you a bit winded and ready to collapse more than once.

doesn't help that your job is already physically demanding enough, and you're too exhausted at the end of the day.

so the solution? gym in the mornings before work.

nothing major. or too demanding.

you don't want to risk injuring yourself before work. or ending up too sore that you can't do your job after.

you got dressed, and packed your duffel back before taking off to the gym close to the daycare you work at.

what you like about the gym at this hour, is how empty it usually is. and the few people that are in, are too focused on their own workout.

today, you made way to where the dumbells are usually kept. setting your water bottle, towel and phone next to the bench you made your choice of weights for this morning.

you had your headphones on, volume as loud as you could bear it, and you focused on your workout.

by the time you were all red with sweat running down your skin, you noticed in the mirror two figures setting their stuff near you.

far enough to not be a bother, but close enough you could probably hear them if your music wasn't so loud.

throughout your workout you notice them stealing glances your way – although you discard it as them checking themselves in the mirror.

they seemed close, though. must be pretty good friends.

the blonde one kept tilting his head back, laughing while holding on to the buffer one, who in turn tried to suppress his smile a bit.

they're cute tho you think to yourself. you're not blind.

anyone with even two barely functioning eyes can see they're both attractive in their own way.

you put the weights down, and take a break.

you take your headphones off, wiping sweat from your forehead with your towel.

while you sip from your water bottle, you notice them bickering in hushed voices — or at least what they think are hushed voices.

you try not to, but you can't stop yourself from staring at them, confused.

they remind you of your toddlers at work.

you snicker to yourself and turn around to put your bottle down and grab the weights back again.

"hi!"

you turn around and see the blonde one standing in front of you. smiling wide. he waves enthusiastically at you when you face him.

"...hi" you mutter back, confused.

no matter how attractive and friendly he seems, you're always a bit apprehensive when approached. especially at the gym.

"i really like your gym set, the lilac looks great on you!"

you relax at the compliment. he's nice.

"oh—thank you,” you blink at him.

he beams at you. how he can be this smiley so early in the morning baffles you a bit.

you look over his shoulder and notice the other one battling with himself. elbow prompted over his crossed arm while biting his nails.

"is your friend okay?"

"hm?" he looks over his shoulder and laughs back at you.

"oh don't mind him"

he waves it off and starts talking, and instead of stopping him and resuming your workout. you let him spark a conversation with you.

there's something disarming about him. maybe his smile. his warm aura, maybe.

changbin should not care. he shouldn't.

like he said, he doesn't have a crush on the woman.

he doesn't know her routine. of course not.

it's purely coincidental that he knows she rests on tuesdays and thursdays. sometimes on the weekends as well.

also completetly coincidental that he has noticed she coordinates her gym sets with each day of the week. like the lilac set she's wearing she only wears on wednesdays. and the yellow one, on mondays.

or his favourite - the light pink one you wear on fridays.

your laughter gets his attention. you're laughing.

why are you laughing. he knows felix is funny. but not that funny.

why are you touching his arm? stop touching his arm.

"oh, im killing you felix" he whispers to himself, behind his hand.

why. why are you both so close? you. you're taking a selfie!?

oh he's so dead.

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permanent taglist: @lilyxii, @clairementsolo

second nature taglist: @wedontknowherorhimorthem, @my-neurodivergent-world, @jordan1024, @thedistractedwriter, @csb-87, @ayoo-bangtan, @niku0704, @procrastinatingtomato, @juju-227592

skz taglist: @fatbitchgeek-blog

they day had been long. exhausting.

practice, after practice. studio sessions. meetings that could have been emails.

all he wanted was to come home to you. his girlfriend,

Minho knows it's late. he had texted you earlier, warning you it'd be yet another long day. to not worry about his dinner and not wait up for him.

and yet, he wished you were still up when he got home.

once he got home, he took a deep breath and opened the front door. he felt the tension leaving his shoulders the moment he got inside.

there was light coming through the living room. the quiet noise of the tv gave him hope that you were still awake.

he hurried over, and there you were. sitting on the floor with your legs crossed under the coffee table, your back against the couch.

you hadn't even noticed he was home, too focused on the show playing on tv while eating your dinner.

was that your dinner?

he quietly approached and squinted at the table.

is that a bowl with watermelon?

surely that was just a snack. right?

"please tell me that's not your dinner"

his voice startled you, making you drop the fork on the bowl.

"jesus Minho, you scared me!" you rest your hand on your chest and close your eyes, taking a deep breath.

you shot him a look. half-annoyed, half-relieve.

"warna girl next time, damn babe"

he doesn't even acknowledge your comment. simply crouching down next to you while , eyeing your bowl like it personally offended him.

"answer the question jagiya"

"it's called girl dinner, babe" you answer, grabbing your fork again and continuing to eat your watermelon while watching your show.

"girl dinner?" he looks at you as if you were crazy.

he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, rubbing his hand on his temple.

"watermelon for dinner" he mumbles to himself, not quite believing the ridiculousness of the situation at hand.

"it's hydrating" you say without adverting your eyes from the tv "besides, I'm not that hungry" you add.

he drops his hand onto his knees and turns to you, sighing deeply.

"you'll be the death of me"

you only look at him with big smile on your lips. your eyes almost disappearing under your chubby cheeks.

"you love me though" you send him a kiss and continue with your task at hand.

and the truth? he really does.

so much so that he pushes through the exhaustion, clawing at his every move, and he goes into the kitchen. he moves around effortlessly and prepares you a proper meal. something simple and quick.

from your spot on the living room floor, you can hear the cabinets opening and the fridge door and the quiet clatter of pans.

you pause. look at him. you blink once, twice.

you quietly get up, grab your now-empty bowl, and take it to the kitchen.

you place the bowl in the sink, and you approach him. you admire him for a bit.

you can see how tired he is by the way his movements are slower. softer.

and yet, here he is. making you dinner simply because he can't bear the thought of you only eating a bowl of fruit for dinner.

you smile and hug him from behind. your arms circling his waist and your head resting between his shoulder blades.

his free hands meets your arms, holding them there. softly but firmly. needing to feel you close.

you kiss his neck and you can feel him relax against you.

"you don't have to cook baby, you just got home" you whisper against his skin.

"I know" he squeezes your hand. "i want to"

you both settle in silence. you don't let him go, and neither does he.

quiet domestic moments like these are rare. and deeply cherished by both of you.

still not letting you let go, Minho plates for both of you and guides you back to the couch, pulling you next to him and handing you your bowl.

it's warmth warming your hands and the delicious scent making your stomach growl with a hunger you didn't even realise you had.

he hears it. you know it by the smirk on his lips. but he chooses not to comment on it.

you hide your own smile behind the bowl as you blow on it just enough to not burn your tongue.

"I missed you" you mumble softly.

Minho's head tilts slightly towards you. his shoulder brushes yours, warm and grounding.

"i know" a beat passes "I missed you too"

you lean into him without thinking, and he lets you — shifting just enough so you can settle properly against his side.

you both sit there in comfortable silence. eating while enjoying each other's company. the cats snuggled around you, purring in their sleep.

the tv keeps playing, long forgotten.

and just like that, the long, exhausting day doesn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

your day had been quite busy. and extremely long.

even worse, since you forgot to pack your lunch. not that it would have made a difference. you barely had any time to breathe, let alone eat.

you knew your boyfriend would be arriving later than usual, and he'd probably eat with the boys before coming home when you'd long been asleep.

so you could save what little energy you had left to simply heat up what was supposed to be your lunch, take a long, relaxing shower and succumb to exhaustion in your bed.

but you guess the universe had other plans.

you got home, took your relaxing shower, and you went to heat up your food.

but it wasn't there.

you quickly realise felix must have taken it for his own lunch — both of you failed to communicate to each other. you can't fault him for that. as if you ever would.

unfortunately you hadn't gone grocery shopping yet, therefore, there weren't many meal options in your kitchen.

you looked around and spotted the jar with the cookies you baked together earlier that week.

it's not much, but honestly, you don't have the energy for anything else.

felix was eager to get home to you. It was honestly his favourite part of the day.

you would sometimes cook dinner together and even do your night routines together as well.

his favourite though? cuddling with you.

so much so that when the boys asked if he was joining them for dinner, he happily refused.

he wanted to surprise you. he knew you weren't expecting him so soon.

he smiled when he saw the lights still on — you hadn't gone to bed yet.

"a small snack before dinner, baby?" he asked with a smile as he sat next to you, pulling you with him as he leaned back.

you snuggled closer to him and offered him a bite of your cookie, which he took.

"it's my dinner, not a snack, sunny" you mumble softly against his chest.

he sat up straighter, you followed a bit confused. you were just getting comfortable — almost falling asleep against him.

he sat there for a second, not saying anything. worry etched to his face as what you said started to register in his mind.

you looked at him confused as he looked between you and the cookie jar in your hands. the glass of orange juice half empty on the coffee table.

his hold on your hand tightens as he slowly processes what you’ve said. tiredness clouding his mind longer than he'd like.

"what do you mean, it's your dinner" his eyes widen, glistening.

his expression softens into something almost pained.

he's too tired to think straight. the thought of you. his girlfriend. the love of his life. not taking care of yourself properly wounds him in a way he can't quite express properly. not even he understands it fully.

if you don't eat properly, you'll be weak. if you're weak, you'll get sick. if you get sick, god knows what could happen to you.

he can't have that happening. ever.

he loves you too much. he won't even entertain such thought.

"i'm not that hungry baby" your voice only a whisper.

you try to pull him back down onto the couch, so you can cuddle and finally let sleep take over.

but he resists, getting up instead.

"sunny, that’s not enough" he starts looking around, patting his pockets in search of his phone.

you sigh tiredly as you rest your head on your hand. arm resting on the back of the couch.

you stare at him. he looks so beautiful. still in his sweatpants and hoodie. hair a mess from practice and running his hands through it.

your person is finally home. and your body knows it can finally let go and relax.

he keeps pacing around the living room, mumbling to himself. or is he talking to you? you can barely tell. you just want to sleep.

"come here baby" you whisper softly. eyes closing.

you extend your arm to him, making grabby hands in hopes that he'll join you once again. hold you close again.

he's browsing the delivery app, choosing your favourite comfort food when he looks over to you and pauses.

he notices how you can barely keep your eyes open. slowly blinking, trying to fight sleep. barely nibbling the cookie you're holding.

he takes a deep breath and relaxes only for a moment. he quickly places the order and joins you on the couch. holding you close to him.

you sigh happily as you snuggle him close. your arms around his waist. your head on his shoulder. nose rubbing his neck.

"stay like this with me, please" you whisper against his neck.

he holds you close, his arms around you. he kisses your forehead and runs his hands through your hair and up and down your back.

"sleep for a bit sunny. i'll wake you up when the food gets here"

you hum sleepily and finally let yourself fully relax. you know he'll always look after you in any way possible.

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you don't how much more you can handle.

things at work haven't been easy, and minho has also been really busy with the new comeback around the corner.

that wasn't the issue.

the issue was the small things piling up over time.

you both haven't had much free time lately, which is only making things harder. even if you both want to address what's been going on, you can't — he comes home late, and you're already asleep, or something else happens that needs solving first.

either way, not talking about it has only been putting you both in a bad mood. as the days go by, small things continue to pile up - leaving dirty laundry on the floor next to the hamper, dirty dishes in the sink instead of the dishwasher right next to it, the damp shower towel on the bathroom floor or the bed. and that's only last week.

which brings us to today. after weeks of a ton of workload that made you stay late, or bring some of it home, your company finally hired someone to replace your coworker who left, and dumped all their work on your plate.

finally you were able to come home early. even earlier than usual. it doesn't happen often, but you won't complain about it either.

you're just glad you can take a proper relaxing bath, maybe get on top of the household chores that have been neglected for a bit and cook a proper meal for dinner.

and maybe, maybe you and your boyfriend can finally have the conversation that has been avoided until now and resolve it.

after work you went grocery shopping, got all of minho's favourites and even got some extra stuff that was needed for the house.

you got home, put everything away and got started on dinner - seasoning, slicing, everything was ready to go.

you cleaned a bit around the house, did some laundry and finally got your relaxing bath.

you were in the kitchen making dinner when he got home, also earlier than usual.

"you're home early" he kissed your forehead as he passed you.

"so are you"

"yeah, things are finally calming down back at the company"

he dropped his duffel bag on top of the counter and grabbed himself a glass of water. and once again, instead of putting it in dishwasher, or even washing it himself, he left it on the sink, along with the — now empty and still dirty — shaker bottle he took with him every morning.

you keep stirring the broth, you try your best to not say anything snappy. but you can't stop staring at the sink. and it's almost like you can feel the words burning a hole in your chest.

minho keeps talking about his day, how they finally perfected the different choreographies and the recordings have been going great. you're not even listening anymore.

"the dishwasher is right there"

you don't look at him. you don't stop what you're doing. you keep staring at the sink. it's all you can see.

"and then he just— " minho stops mid-sentence.

he looks at you confused. then notices what you're staring at. he rolls his eyes and sighs — not even dramatically, just exhausted — and puts it away silently.

"im gonna take a shower" he hums softly under his breath and leaves the kitchen.

once he leaves, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, leaning over the stove to ground yourself.

you're so tired of this. it's too much.

you finish dinner, set the table. you put away the duffel bag and the clothes inside it in the laundry.

you clean up as you go so it's less work after dinner.

you grab the cleaned laundry and take it to the bedroom, so you can put it away. but once you get to your bedroom, you see it.

minho is already dressed, drying his hair with a hand towel. and the towel he used to dry himself? on top of the bed. again.

you set the laundry basket on the bed with more force than you intended, anger or maybe resentment bubbling inside you.

"why do you always keep the wet towel on the bed? how hard is it to put it away?!"

you don't look at him. you grab the towel and go to the bathroom, you stop by the door, and you sigh loudly, as you see his dirty clothes on the floor. you rub your temple as you can already feel a headache forming.

you grab the clothes and put them in the hamper. it's. right. there.

you turn around and see him still holding the hand towel. combing back his hair. you've had enough.

"you know, i'm really trying, i really am"

he turns to you, confused.

"what are you talking about?"

"i really wanted tonight to be nice, you know" you pause "i cleaned the house, i cooked your favourite food, i did the laundry that was piling up."

you took a deep breath, you could feel the tears of frustration starting to cloud your vision. you swallow the sob stuck in your throat, making it burn.

"and then you come home, and you do what you do every. single. day. all over again," you accentuate each word tearfully. "i'm tired of having to clean after you"

"you say it like it's something i do on purpose!" he says, offended, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"i know you don't do it on purpose, minho, but it only makes it worse!"

"look, im tired too, and maybe sometimes i forget it for a while, but it doesn't mean i don't clean it eventually!"

eventually? you laugh bitterly at that.

"you don't forget it for a while, you know i eventually clean it up myself, and so you just leave it there!"

"what, so now i leave a few things out of place and all of a sudden i need to get lectured by my girlfriend?" he raises his voice.

"oh my god" you run your hands up your face and down your hair, you look up into the ceiling, trying to take a deep breath and ground yourself.

you can't believe what you're hearing. it's like talking to a child.

you finally look at him and take a deep breath.

"do you even hear yourself right now?" you rest your hands on your hips, staring at him with his face closed and arms around his chest.

"you really think this is me lecturing you?"

he raises his arms into the air and slaps them on his thighs.

"sure sounds like a lecture to me!" he looks pointedly at you.

"if I know you were going to nag me and bitch about everything I'd have gone to the dorms!" he yells, breathing erratically.

you laugh tearfully, incredulous. you honestly can't even believe the words leaving his mouth right now. how dare he. how dare he twist your words and minimise what's going on. how can he not see that you're drowning and asking for help. his help.

you need to leave. you can't stay here another minute. you feel like you're suffocating.

and so you do.

you turn your back to him, and you leave the bedroom. even as he calls to you, you keep walking, grabbing the first jacket within your reach and your keys and you leave.

you don't even look where you're going, you just keep walking.

your mind doesn't stop spinning. recalling every single thing that has happened the last few weeks, months even. the words he said to you keep repeating in your head. the look on his face. like you are the problem.

like you're the one making things up. scaling things out of proportion.

you have no idea how long it's been, you stop walking when it gets too much, and your legs threatened to give out. you sit down on a nearby bench, and you close the thin jacket. it's so cold.

back home, minho takes a deep breath as he reaches the door as you close it. for a second he thinks of following you. he really does, but you both need to cool off before you say the wrong thing and things get worse, beyond repair.

he tries to calm himself down, runs his hand down his face and takes deep breaths to calm down his erratic breathing.

he looks around the apartment, really looks, and he sees it.

the table is carefully set, the living room is cleared, your favourite blanket is draped over the couch within reach from the corner you love to snuggle in. candles are lit.

he walks into the kitchen, and the smell of his favourite food hits him first. it's in the stove, on low heat to keep it warm. he turns it off so it doesn't burn. he opens the fridge and it's stocked. so is the pantry.

even the box he keeps with treats for the cats he takes to his parents' house when he visits is stocked.

he finally sees what you've been trying to tell him, and his heart breaks. he finally understands.

he tries to call you, but your phone rings on top the kitchen counter. of course. he sighs tiredly and leaves the apartment after you. you couldn't have gone that far.

it's really cold and the forecast says there's a chance of rain, or even snow. and you were in pyjamas. and the jacket is too thin to keep you warm.

he walks around the neighbourhood, and the unsettling feeling in his chest grows as time goes by, and he still hasn't found you. and it's getting colder, and colder. he can see the cloud of condensation as he breathes.

at some point he goes back home in hopes of finding you there. safe. calmer. that maybe, you both can clear things up and go on with the night you had planned. make up and go back to what things were. or maybe even better than before.

but instead, he returns to an empty home, and it hits him harder than he expected. he doesn't want this to be the end. it can't be. it won't. right?

to keep himself busy, he busies himself around the house. he finishes what he's been putting off — like changing the lightbulb in the bathroom, fixing the door to the closet. just to name a few.

after there's nothing left to fix or clean, he sits on the couch. rubbing his hands on his legs. waiting for you. checking the door, the clock. getting up every time he hears a noise on the hallways outside. nothing.

he stares outside the window as it starts raining heavily. the worry in his chest grows with each gush of strong wind whistling in the night.

you were soaked to the bone. freezing as you step into the elevator. you're exhausted as you you drag your feet to the front door. you really hope minho has gone to bed, or even left to spend the night back in the dorms.

you guys clearly need some distance.

you want some quiet after this disastrous night. take a warm shower, put on some dry, warm pyjamas and just go to bed. you just want to put this behind you and rest.

but as you enter through the door, you see the lights are on — minho immediately rushes to the door as he hears it close softly.

you were still wearing your house slippers, now soaked. all of you was wet and cold.

"where were you?! i went out looking for you, do you have any idea of how worried i was?? you left your phone at home, i coudn't even reach you!"

you sigh deeply and close your eyes, shaking your head in defeat.

"not now minho, i don't want to fight anymore"

your voice was shaky, lips trembling with each breath.

he pauses. and he looks at you. really looks at you.

you're hugging yourself, in a poor attempt to warm yourself, your nose and cheeks are red from the cold, and your lips are turning blue. there's strands of hair glued to you forehead — surely thanks to the force of the wind outside mixed with the heavy rain. your pyjamas are dripping onto the floor, your house slippers dirty and wet.

"you're shaking"

you don't respond.

you try to take off your shoes but your feet are so cold that you can't even feel them. minho sees your struggle and kneels at you feet, holding your ankle while removing your slippers and replacing them with his own.

you don't know how to react. or maybe you just don't have the energy anymore.

he stays kneeling while holding your legs, trying to warm them. you continue to shiver, but you don't say anything. no matter how mad and angry you might get at each other, you still love him deeply.

you welcome his touch. it's so warm. so soft. and you miss it.

you miss him. so much.

"you need to take off these clothes" his voice is tight, small.

you can see how his chin trembles. how he quickly blinks, how he avoids looking at you. avoids making eye contact.

he gets up and holds your hand, guiding you to the bathroom. and you notice. you notice the things he did while you were out. and it pulls at your heartstrings. he's trying.

he turns the shower on, and turns to you and helps you taking off your wet clothes, wincing every time he touches your skin and sees how cold you really are.

once the water is warm, he guides you inside and leaves the bathroom with your clothes. you sigh as the hot water touches your skin.

you stand there and let the water wash away all of it. you hear minho coming back to the bathroom, and you see him sitting down on the closed toilet seat, holding a fluffy towel and a new set of pyjamas.

after you finish, you get out and he's already there. waiting. he wraps the towel around you and holds you. he squeezes you tight and you let him. you sink into his warmth, and you close your eyes. he holds your head against his shoulder, resting his chin on top of yours.

he gives you a kiss on top of your head and takes deep breaths. his breathing gets shaky, and so does he.

"i was so worried" his voice sounds small against you. he tightens his hold on you, and you can feel tears falling on your skin.

"i'm so sorry jagi, i don't know why i said those things" he whispers against your hair. "i didn't mean any of them"

you close your eyes tightly, in a way to prevent you from crying.

"it hurt" you admit, your own voice shaky and hoarse.

he pulls you closer and kisses your head repeatedly.

"i know baby, i shouldn't have" he sighs defeatedly. "none of it is true, and you were right... i was taking you for granted and wasn't seeing how you needed me"

"im sorry for worrying you... i didn't realise i had gone so far"

he shakes his head against yours. he sniffles a bit, before grabbing your head and lifting it so he can finally look into your eyes.

"what matters right now is that you're here, with me, and you're safe" he kisses your forehead, then your lips. a small peck.

"come, let's get you dressed and warmed up, i reheated the food so we can enjoy the rest of the night like you wanted"

you manage a small smile, and you let him dry you, and he does it so gently. he helps you get dressed. combs your hair. does your skin care for you.

you missed this. precious moments like these. just you two enjoying the little things together.

when he's finished, he raises your chin up with one finger and looks at you fondly. eyes still misty, red, but no longer crying.

"i love you so much" he says softly, cupping your cheek.

you close your eyes, and hold his hand against your cheek, he rubs his thumb against it.

"i love you too" you smile tearfully at him, the aftermath of the night finally catching up to you.

you don't want to talk anymore, there's no need. you just want to enjoy the rest of the night with your boyfriend.

you grab his face gently and you kiss him on the lips. a soft, lingering kiss. you hug for a bit, and you can feel each other relax into one another.

after a while, minho grabs your hand and takes you to the living room, and while you get comfortable on your corner of the couch, wrapped in your favourite blanket, he goes to the kitchen and grabs your dinner.

you eat quietly on the couch, a random show on TV serving as background noise. after you both finish eating, minho takes your bowl along with his and takes it to the kitchen.

you snuggle further into the couch, cocooned with the blanket wrapped tightly around you, and as you get sleepier, you can hear minho move around in the kitchen.

you hear the kettle boiling. moments later, minho returns with two steaming mugs in hand. you smile at him and sit up as he hands you your tea. he kisses you before sitting next to you, holding you close.

he makes sure you stay close to him, warm. after you finish your tea, you set the mug on the coffee table and you snuggle closer to him, your head on his chest and your arm around his waist.

things aren't perfect, they'll never be. but you both know you need to communicate more with each other. better. and you know, that as long as you both love each other, and you keep trying, you'll be okay.

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