#czennie

Your heels hit the floor with an aggressive thud, echoing through the hallway while he silently toed off his own shoes. He trailed after you into the kitchen, his eyes following your sharp movements as you grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and pulled the first aid kit from a cabinet.

“Sit,” you ordered, pointing toward the counter stool.

Jaemin obeyed without a word, suppressing wince as he climbed onto the seat. You placed the ice pack firmly against his bruised knuckles, the only sound in the room being the sharp click of the first aid kit snapping open. The heavy silence stretched on as you soaked a cotton swab in antiseptic.

His eyes followed your steady hands while you treated his wounds. Even with your brows knitted together and your lips pressed into a thin line, he thought you looked breathtaking. He found it endearing how gentle your touch was, despite the residual fury in your eyes.

“You know,” Jaemin teased softly, trying to catch your eye, “you look really hot when you’re mad at me.”

You shot him a flat, unamused glare and pressed the antiseptic cotton harder against his cheek.

“Ow! Okay, okay— I’m sorry!” he hissed, flinching away from your hand.

“You’re lucky you’re not in jail right now,” you finally spoke, the anger finally draining out of you. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? I was so scared when he swung back at you.”

Jaemin’s playful expression faded. “I’m sorry, baby. I just… I couldn’t listen to him talk to you like that. It’s bad enough that he put his hands on you.”

Sighing, you reached for a bandage. “I know you were protecting me, and I appreciate it,” you said, pressing the band-aid to his cheek gently this time. “But still, fighting is bad. There are other ways to get your point across without violence.”

He reached with his uninjured hand, catching yours to draw you closer. “You’re right,” he murmured, a flicker of mischief returning to his eyes. “Next time I’ll try to use my words. Or I’ll just make out with you the second another guy tries to make a move.”

You rolled your eyes at his absurdity, taking some gauze out of the kit to dab at the blood on his bottom lip. Your face was inches away from his, close enough that your warm breath fanned across his skin, making his heart beat faster.

“There,” you whispered, setting the gauze aside. “All done.”

Before you could step away, he hooked a hand around your waist and pulled you into the space between his legs. “It still hurts. Kiss me better?”

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

But you leaned in anyway and pressed a soft, chaste peck to the corner of his mouth. You started to pull away, but Jaemin wasn’t finished. The ice pack fell away as his hand threaded through your hair to tilt your head back. He brought your lips back to his with a searing intensity that made your knees weak.

The lingering tension of the night vanished, replaced with a strong passion that lit fireworks. Jaemin’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, seeking entrance, and when you moaned into his mouth, he deepened the kiss. His hand slid down your waist, pulling you closer so that no space was left between you. The metallic taste from his lips mixed with the sweetness of your lip gloss. Your hands migrated from his shoulders to his hair, fingers tugging the dark strands as you kissed back fiercely.

When you finally parted for air, Jaemin’s gaze was heavy with affection. “I love you,” he breathed, voice dropping to a sincere whisper.

You smiled, brushing your thumb over the curve of his cheek. “I love you too, Jaem. Promise me no more fights?”

“I promise,” he vowed, catching your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips.

You rested your head on his shoulder, letting the quiet comfort settle around you. The bruises would fade, but the promise of his love felt permanent.

𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪