You come to a pause as you come closer to the bedroom door sneaking a peak at your boyfriend who was slumped on the living room sofa. His height made it possible for him to rest his head on top of the outside back of the furniture. He had his eyes closed, one hand on his lap and the other pinching the bridge of his nose as he breathed. This sight of him made you realize how exhausted he was which was a complete contrast to how he presents himself on TV. You contemplate on whether if you should come to him knowing well enough that he’ll drift off to sleep any minute now. Has he eaten? You wondered, brushing off the thought almost immediately when you remembered the time he couldn’t choose between you or the spicy chicken rice. Lost in your train of thoughts, you almost didn’t realize how he had caught you staring,

“Have you had dinner?” His voice low, tinged with fatigue. Startled, you mumbled a gentle no.

“Have you been feeding yourself while I was away? You can fit another human being inside that sweater.” His eyes fixed on you as you trailed into the living room.

“Well it is your sweater.” You hid your smile, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Come here.” His voice stern but sweet as he grabbed your wrists, pulling you next to him. “Take out, hm? It’s on me.” He asks, his eyes searching your face.

“Aniya… I can fix something up in the kitchen.” You protest, you feel his thumb mindlessly brushing the inside of your wrist. You shifted your weight and crossed your legs to face him. He looks at you, thick eyebrows furrowed.

“Absolutely not. I’ve barely seen you and you want to spend it with your vegetables?” He bursts.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Song Minho.” Squinting at him. Having none of your sass tonight he went on,

“What would you like? It feels like a chicken night, I think so too?” Answering for you as he swipes his phone, pulling his eyes off you. Focused, he bit his lips scrolling down the home delivery menu. You notice an eyelash out of place resting on his cheek bones. Slowly you tap your finger against his skin which caught him off guard. He looks at you, wide eyed, adorable. You mouthed Mianhae, make a wish? Holding out your finger out for him. He stares at you for a moment, closes his eyes before he lightly kissed your finger tip. You can’t help but ask,

“What was it?” Resting your chin on his shoulders, batting your eyes. He looks at you through the corner of his eyes, may the delivery guy be blessed with a shorter route he whispered. You scoffed, slightly embarrassed for expecting something else you had in mind. His tired eyes smiled as he laughed, squeezing your shoulders thinking it would be selfish of him to ask for more when he’s been blessed with more than he deserve.

~

Your eyes fluttered open fighting against the weight of sleep that refused to go away. The chilled air had woken you up and you realize that it was still dark outside,

5:10 am…

Squinting your eyes as you tapped your phone awake. You rolled over to find a figure sleeping soundly not far from where you were. You couldn’t remember much, but the both of you must have fallen asleep right in the living room after stuffing yourselves with dinner Minho had insisted on. You moved carefully closer to him and pulled up the blanket up to his shoulders, he stirred with a soft sigh.

Positioning yourself onto your side you place your palms under your cheeks and took your time observing without him fussing,

Why are you staring? Don’t stare too long, too much of something good isn’t advisable!

You smiled to your self, it still amazes you how a grown man can soften up this much when he falls asleep, so vulnerable. Minho hadn’t confided in you much about his job in the entertainment business, you knew well that this was for the fact that he didn’t want to worry you. But you could tell from the songs he writes and the things he raps about, it was foolish for anyone to think that it doesn’t hurt him.

“Oppa, have you heard from him?” You paced your apartment for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“No, I haven’t. I’m on my way to the studio right now, I’ll give you a call when I find him, arraseo?” Jinwoo’s tone was just as worried as yours.

“It’s been two days. That idiot better not do anything stupid!” Your voice cracked, trying to get a hold of yourself.

“I promise you he knows better. I’ll give him a good scolding when I see him, alright?” Being the eldest, Jinwoo tried to find light in the situation.

You sighed as you sat down, burying your face into your hair. You had stopped turning on the TV, as every channel seemed to be interested in Minho’s choice of lyrics for a show he was competing in. Apparently he had offended a significant amount of the public, to whom he owes an apology for. To be quite honest, the things that people had said about him bothered you and you couldn’t imagine how it must feel like for him. You had your hopes high, thinking that he’s been in the business long enough to deal with it better than someone like you. It hit you then when he tried to get a hold of him but failed countless times. Your phone vibrated against the wood of the table, Jinwoo’s name flashed as it rung.

“He’s fine… I think. Do you want to see him?” You shoved your phone into your jeans and sprinted out hailing for a cab.

He looked dead tired even when he tried to hide it with that usual grin of his. He barely stood up as he spread his arms, asking for a hug. You took a step back, avoiding him.

“You had me worried sick!” You cried at him, tears stinging your eyes. He tensed as his smile faltered. You realized then that this isn’t what he needs right now, his current state had your heart in pieces and you can almost feel your chest burn. You notice the faint red rings around his eyes, his unkept hair and you wonder when his last meal was. You went towards him and wrapped your arms around him, carefully, thinking that he might break.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You whispered against his chest. He holds you close by the nape of your neck, shush it’s okay. You hit yourself mentally when you should be the one comforting him.

“There will always be someone that will pick out your faults, take them as a lesson to help you grow. Those that love you are the ones that really matter, and I promise Minho-ya, there are a whole bunch of them.” You managed to say, brushing your fingers through his hair.

“Really?” He laughs softly, “How much is a whole bunch?” Pinching your cheeks.

You wonder how you will ever get used to his tendency to pick out the things you least thought about. “Have you not seen those girls?” You nudge him away. He has, of course, but even if the whole world had turned against him, he wouldn’t care as long as you were the one that acknowledged him.