It was perfect.

Not like the previous three weren’t, but Minho seemed to have an excuse he’d pull out of his for each one the two of you visited and you refused to spare him a glance this time round because you might just lose it.

The kitchen merged just right with the open living room which was surprisingly spacious adorned by beautiful, tall windows. It lined the entire space allowing plenty of natural light to stream in and you could already imagine how Minho’s bold and quirky choices in furniture would work. You loved the white cabinets, complimented by butcher block countertops and glossy hardwood floors, already imagining lazy, coffee induced, Sunday mornings in with him.  

“When can we move in?” You ask the landlord, who you’d suspected for reciting an overly detailed description of the place to which you found rather helpful but you could already hear Minho’s complaints solely from the sceptic look on his face. Something along the lines of –he’s exaggerating, babe, he’s got to be hiding something.

“Whenever you’re ready. After the forms and lease, of course.” He grins and your eyes twitched towards where Minho was, motioning his head over when he caught you staring.

“Would you hold on for one second?” You press an awkward smile and the landlord nods warily when you brush past him in a huff.

“So, what do you think?” As soon as Minho opens his mouth, it was too late to take back and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him.

“You wanna know what I think?” He whispers, grabbing your hand as he pulls you over into the hallway, out of the kitchen.

“Actually no–”

“–I think this place gives me the ing creeps.” His eyes darting over the space behind you and you exasperate a deep sigh.

“Minho, don’t start.”

“I mean it, Y/N-ah. I should’ve bought Jhonny along you know what they say about animals seeing–”

“Seeing what, Mr. Song?”

Startled, the both of you jumped at the abrupt intrusion of the landlord who now loomed eerily at the end of the hallway. Despite the obvious difference in height Minho had grabbed you by the shoulder, holding you out as a human shield.

“Please don’t mind him, we’re just going to look around a little more.“ A dry laugh leaves you, peeling his iron grip on you as you tow him into one of the empty rooms.

“You’ve been watching too much of those films, seriously!” Minho’s eyes flew open in disbelief hearing you half cry the impossible accusation.

“Oh come on, like that would happen.” He tips his head to the side, snickering at his own hopelessness over horror flicks that he despised with a burning passion.

“Eh, you’re right.” You shrug, scrunching your nose at him and he feigns his own shock, laughing silently when it earned him a smack to the shoulder. “Hey remember that one time–”

“This isn’t the time to be joking around! You never take me seriously, jeez.” Minho grumbles, thick brows furrowed in disapproval knowing exactly which embarrassing story you had in mind, the one where tears were shed during a re-run of The Ring and they were definitely not from your end.  

“Right, like the time you asked me to marry you.”  You purse your lips together, holding back a laugh and he scowls.

“Hey, I was plenty serious.”

“You got on one knee with a ring pop, Minho.”

“But did you say no?” A smug grin sprawls across his face and the arch of your brow comes after.

“I should’ve.”  

He gapes at your blunt response, and you couldn’t help but laugh into his chest, inching up as you wrap your arms around him lovingly. Minho barely retaliates, sliding a large palm across your back to the back of your neck to pull you closer.

“Besides didn’t you say you loved the bathroom?” A shy smile curls quietly on your face, recalling some of the things he had in mind of doing, that mostly included you.

Suddenly, he pulls back, eyes widely searching yours and you honestly couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.

“When did I say that?” He questions lowly, voice dripping in possession.

“Earlier, remember? The walk-in shower and–”

“Are you sure that was me?”

You throw him a frown, still trying to register his suspiciously serious tone.

“I think it fancies you.”

“Stop messing around! You’re being ridiculous!” You cry, shoving his chest when a deep laugh bursts out of him.

“Of course it was you.”

“Are you sure?”

You pause, blinking at him at a thought and you remain unmoved when that smile of his disappears.

“To think of it, he was cuter.”

He was staring bullets into you as his mouth parts in disbelief once more, “You take that back!”

//