He shivers again. Changmo is wearing a big, warm hoodie. Jinyoung feels the soft cotton against his skin, but every time Changmo moves more than an inch, he’s exposed to the unforgiving cold. The long-sleeved button-up he had on over his tank top lies abandoned nearby. He wishes he could grab it and put it back on, but not only does he not want to move from his spot, it is also a matter of pride.

Because Changmo did ask,

“Aren’t you going to be cold?”

And Jinyoung boldly answered,

“Of course not.”

Now he sits on Changmo’s lap, right side of his body pressed into his chest, and Jinyoung can’t move. Changmo holds his wrist, extending his left arm and trying to read every single word on it, and Jinyoung can’t move. If he moves, he’ll be cold. If he moves, he’ll interrupt Changmo’s reading.

So he sits still, shivering every time Changmo moves more than an inch. But his head is on Changmo’s shoulder, and he gets to hear his deep voice every time he reads a word out loud.

So it’s fine. He won’t move.