Scenario: You accidentally come across his sketchbook, only to find out that it’s filled with drawings of you.

You rolled over to your side, tucking your knees into your chest in efforts to ignore your screaming bladder. Squeezing your eyes in frustration, you shifted the covers away, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness. The air felt cold and you wince the second your feet touched the floor. You glance over to the space next to you, only to see that it was empty. Is he still awake?

Closing the bathroom door shut, you walked towards the living room, taking a peak careful not to disturb him. It was past three in the morning, and it was just a few hours ago you had begged Minho to give himself a break. “Minho, it’s been a week-” “This won’t take long, I promise.” “But-” “Go back to bed.” He lets out a tired smile, giving your forehead a kiss.

Minho was hunched over the kitchen table, his head buried between his arms. Fortunately, he was asleep. Pieces of paper were scattered around him, headphones hung around his neck plugged into his laptop that was still switched on. He mustn’t have slept slept that long, you sigh at the thought as you walked slowly towards him. Not wanting to wake him up knowing well that he’ll just resume with the work he had left idled, you gently wrap a blanket over him. A familiar sound lulled from either side of his headphones, and you know this because it was track that seemed to bother him lately. You smile at him, out of empathy for the most part, at how hard he works. It breaks your heart, seeing him like this-

“I feel like I’m too young to feel this old.” He chuckles as he weaves his fingers into yours.

“Hm?” You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“Thank you.” He stops to face you, a smile on his face.

“You just lost me there.” You say, confused as ever.

“For being here.” Because with you, I feel like I don’t have to worry so much.

“Oh.” Realizing what he meant in the first place. “This too shall pass.” You whisper after a while as you tap the tip of his nose, squeezing his hands into the pockets of your coat. You see his thick eyebrows relax as he lets out a shy smile. He melts at the sound of your words, at you.

As you shuffled into the kitchen, you were shocked to hear a sudden smack to the ground. You turn around to find out you had knocked down one of his books, biting your lips, please please don’t wake up. Minho stirred with a sigh, exhaling in relief you kneel down towards the book. A smile escaped your lips as you realize that it’s the sketch book. The one he carries with him all the damned time that you’ve never been this jealous of a book before.  Many times you’ll see him, stooped in the corner of the sofa, or the balcony, or basically anywhere really, huddled with this sketchbook in hand. Countless drawings filled the pages, colours burst as you flipped through. They were intricate, abstract, simple, you name it. Caricatures portrayed some familiar faces in such comical ways, you bit the inside of your cheeks fighting a laugh.

You stopped at a drawing that had caught your eye, not that the previous ones didn’t, but this one in particular was different…

Is this me?

Not one, but page after page, was of a girl that strongly resembled- you. There was one where she was fast asleep, hair falling on one side. Or one where she had her back turned away, preparing something in the kitchen. Or she was immersed, watching tv or reading a book, or simply laughing out of bliss. It was endless, the further you went through the more it seemed like your typical life story. You felt absurd for even thinking that this was you, she was… stunning. But then again she had your dimples, your crescent eye smiles, and your clothes. Sitting there with the book on your lap, you bit your nails absorbed into the talent that was Song Minho. You find it hard to believe, the way he observes you this way, you can’t help but feel slightly flattered. Finally realizing that it was you that he’s so focused on when he’s with this book.

“What are you doing?” He rasped, voice heavier than usual. You turned to look up at him, cheeks pressed against his forearms.

“Are these…” You raised the book towards him, he blinks slowly, eyes red and puffy, you felt guilty for waking him up.

“I’m sorry, it looks nothing like you doesn’t it?” He lets out a sleepy smile.

“Thank god, you must’ve been hallucinating.” You laughed softly, tucking your hair behind your ears as you stood up.

“Hey- try drawing someone that beautiful.” He perks, his cheek bones peaking as he grins at you. You stood there, flustered at his words. “Besides, I was saving that as your gift.” He sat up, stretching his arms out simultaneously guiding you onto his lap.

“Minho-ah, you’re tired…” You wriggled in a protest as he wraps his arms firmly around you, worried that your weight might be a burden.

“You don’t like them?” He breathes against your arm, you feel goosebumps almost immediately.

“No- I like this- but you should sleep-” You feel your cheeks flush.

“I mean- the drawings, silly.” He laughs at your reaction to his embrace. He hears you mutter a timid oh, he wondered himself if he was really tired to actually feel this way.

“They’re amazing.” You whispered into his neck, embarrassed for having such thoughts.

“Not as amazing as you.”

“Minho… no.” You shook your head, wincing at his cheesiness.

“No? Too early for that?” You feel his chest against yours as he laughed, knowing perfectly what you had meant. A smile creeped across your face, how is he this bubbly? You kissed his neck softly, convinced that no one should be this lovable.

“Hey- it’s definitely too early for that.” He rasped, tilting his head away, you see his tan waver to a shade of crimson.

“You’re right.” You shifted, peeling his arms away. “I guess I’ll go back to bed then.” Blinking at him, before you make a run for it towards the bedroom. You let out a laugh as you hear him groan out of irritation, stop with the teasing- will you please.