It’s not some rough steps or open doors that made me awake.

It was an increased pressure in my stomach, gentle but firm, followed by an obvious sign of life. Breath.

As i open my eyes slowly, there i saw his face. His bloating face, along with the exact jacket he used when he arrived at the show, M-countdown if i’m not mistaken. And i can see some smeared make up, although almost all cleaned.

I want to stay in this position, all warm and he curled up across me. But i need-no, i want-to take care of him.

So i caress his hair, and his face. I tried to reach his face with my lips, but several times of yoga haven’t be able to make me reach him from my position. Sorry, Joon. Not flexible enough.

I roll to my right, all the while my hand hold his head steady.

‘mrgngh..’ he grumbles.

‘shh shh there there..’ i peck his crinkled tired face. How i love this man. This tired-hardworking man. I take my cotton and make up remover from my dresser. I erase his eye make up slowly and carefully, not his usual rush work. Boys.

Then i was his face with a warm cloth, careful not to make him uncomfortable.

All the way i think.. has he received enough love? Because i know, he deserves more. He deserves all things in the world.

That’s as easy as fall for him can be.

‘joon, at least change the clothes. Let me.’

He sits down quite slowly, without opening his eyes-which i bet still has the contact lens-but continue to sleep and lean on my shoulder. His lips are touching my neck and warm breath pokes my shoulder. I carefully open his jacket, unbotton his dress shirt, leave him with the white ugly t-shirt, his favorite.

After i’m done dressing up the big baby, i’m back to my previous position, only this time i didn’t lay down, but resting my head at the headboard.

Having much more comfortable with his clothes, Namjoon started nesting in my stomach, invaded it with his long limbs and heavy head. I caress his hair.

‘how’s it going babe?’

‘hmmh.’ He tighten his hold on my waist. ‘tis good.’

‘good how..’ i