“How did you get honey in your hair again?”

You just got home from a twelve hour shift at work and talking isn’t really in your list of things you want to do right now. But right now, looking at Jongdae’s reflection in the bathroom mirror as you wash out the sticky stuff out of the tips of your hair, you can’t help pouting. 

“There was a smoothie, and it had strawberries and honey on the top and my hair just wanted a taste.”

Jongdae laughs because you sound like a five year old and he wants to pinch your cheeks. And then maybe somewhere in the back of his brain he also wants to kiss your breath away and experiment with several different ways he can make the tenseness he sees on your every muscle go away. 

You’ve had a week from hell. Not just because of today’s impromptu half-day shift, but you’ve been dealing with figuring out your future and the sickness of a family member and things just aren’t great and you’re not good at handling any of it. For a bit you consider not dealing with it at all, but you know yourself. And Jongdae knows you. There’s just no way you can get away with hiding away with him. 

“It’s almost gone now, though,” it really is, you’ve washed up and you feel squeaky clean despite your brain being a mess. You’re tired enough to sleep for two days but you know you won’t be able to manage that, so you’re fully prepared to spend the night cleaning, re-organising your bedroom, even the kitchen at this point because Jongdae probably has to go back to the dorms soon. The second round of concerts in Seoul is next weekend and you know he has ten years of rehearsal to get through before then. “How much longer can you stay tonight?”

The look you give him is unintentionally heartbreaking and he feels like , but not for long. All of your whiny texts throughout the day weren’t just that, he saw through it all and knew you weren’t having a sunny week at all. As your boyfriend, it’s only fitting he at least tries to make things better somehow. 

“I’ll just leave when I leave,” he tells you, and you turn around and start to walk in his direction because a hug sounds great right now. Maybe even cuddling, though you know he’ll whine in ten minutes about having to leave and how much of a hassle it’ll be to untangle himself from you. 

“Did you have dinner?” you ask because you haven’t. And you’re not actually hungry, you just want to make the most out of tonight because if there’s anyone that can bring a smile out of you right now, it’s Mr Kim Jongdae and his Cheshire smile. To your relief, Jongdae shakes his head, and you stand before him and raise your arms in his direction so he can do the rest. 

And he does, meets your arms with his own and wraps himself around you and he’s warm and soft and just really nice, and you’re suddenly reminded of every single reason why you fell for him and you kind of want to implode. 

“I ordered pizza.” Damn him, you’re actually tearing up because of pizza. Like, not just from pizza but from pizza that he ordered because you feel like and it’s only Tuesday and you love him so damn much—

“I love you,” he says, and it kind of makes your eyes water a little bit because only that is making you feel better, “and I have the first season of Daredevil in queue.”

You’re sniffling now. “Can we watch from bed?”

One of Jongdae’s eyebrows rises cheekily at you. “I’ll even let you be the big spoon.” 

“Kim Jongdae, I hate love you.”

“Me, too, darling. Me, too.”