This chapter is dedicated to the first subscriber of this story, Mistral :)

Thank you for your support!!! It really means a lot! :)

Love

Jojo <3 

I sat on a wooden stool in a bathroom in Minho's house. Minho himself was crouching down in front of me with a bottle of foul smelling liquid in one hand and a cotton ball in the other.

He looked at my forehead intently, carefully removing the water-resistant paint from my face. He had his tongue stuck out so that the tip could be seen between his lips, just like he always did when concentrating hard on a difficult math problem.

The door to the bathroom was halfway open, showing the foot end of Minho's bed and letting soft music from his CD-player enter.

I sent a glance to my white t-shirt, which was now hanging over the rim of the bathtub. It was slightly awkward to sit bare-chested in front of the class' most handsome and well built guy. 

Okay, who am I kidding. It wasn't slightly awkward. It was probably the most embarrassing thing I'd ever done.

But Minho had insisted that I took it off so that he could get me clean from the sticky paint. 

"Okay, Tae, I've cleared most of your face now." 

I smiled. I didn't know when he decided to start calling me by nicknames, but I didn't mind it. Minnie, Tae, Taeminnie... They all felt good.
Yes, it felt as if he actually cared about me.
And that thought made my stomach all warm and tingly.

"Thank you, hyung." I said and smiled sheepishly. "You didn't have to."

He just smiled his lopsided grin and ruffled my still-white hair.

"Ah, don't be silly, Min-ah. Now let's get your hair done, okay?"

I nodded. Whatever hyung said.

Being able to say Hyung felt nice too. On the way from the school to his house, he had told me that he wanted me to call him hyung instead of sunbaenim, if I felt comfortable to. He'd said it would make him happy. And it made me happy too.

"How are we going to take it all out of my hair though, hyung?" I said, worriedly. "I don't want it to drip on your floor."

He furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

"maybe... Okay I think... Yes. If you could stand up for a second, Minnie..."

I happily obliged and scurried to my feet. He took the stool and placed it eight next to the bathtub, then sat down on it himself and patted his lap.

"Come here."

I couldn't help but blush a little as I crossed the small room hesitantly. He just smiled up at me and patted his lap again. I sat down lightly with my legs on the side of him that wasn't right next to the rim of the bathtub.

"wh-why should I s-s-sit in yo-your lap, hyung?"

 I internally scolded myself for being totally incapable of keeping myself from stuttering.

"Y-you'll get paint on yourself..."

"No, not if we do it like this." he said, and gently pushed my upper body down, so that I was laying with my back on his legs an my head right over the bathtub, my feet just touching the floor on the other side of him.

"You aren't too uncomfortable, are you?" he said with a gentle smile.

I shook my head a little, feeling the weight of the drying paint in my hair as it fell freely into the air over the tub.

"Okay, then close your eyes so that you don't get this in them," he said and dangled the bottle of paint remover in his hand. I did as he told me, a little bit unsure of myself and my position.

I let out a surprised yelp when I felt the cool liquid pool over my forehead and into my hair.

"Sorry, Minnie. We have to get it all out, though," he muttered.

 I nodded without opening my eyes, but couldn't help but shudder at the coldness.  I felt the hair on my arms stand up.

"Sorry," he whispered again.

When he'd gotten a sufficient amount of paint remover into my hair, he started massaging my scalp lightly to make sure it took away all the paint. He did the process three times, then he bent over me a little and I heard water running. He let it stream for a minute or so, so that it would get warm, and then gently washed the last bit of the paint remover out of my hair.

A content sigh left my lips when I felt the warmth against my skin and his ever so gentle hands caressing my hair and my head.

And little by little, I felt more and more tired.
Not the bad kind of being tired that you feel when you're in class after a night of too little sleep. No, it was another kind.

His hands worked miracles as they ghosted over my hair again and again, accompanied by the warm water. It had been so long since anyone had touched me. My parents hadn't hugged me since I was in kindergarten, and no one else had either. So everything about the situation felt so surreal.

So surreal, so unusual - and yet so very calming. 

The fabric of his jeans against my back, his hands on my skin, and the warmth as he washed my hair were the last things I felt as I drifted off to sleep.