Minhee leaned over the table in her apartment, wrapping her lips around the blue straw that emerged from her glass of milk, and blew. The white liquid in the cup bubbled upwards toward the rim, and Minhee smiled through her puffed cheeks. It was the little things, she reminded herself.

              “You are such a child,” Minho laughed at her from the seat to her right. “That’s so gross.”

              Minhee nudged his drink with her other hand, not taking her eyes off the television screen, where Lee Min Ho leaned in close to Park Shin Hye in the closet of his mansion. Heirs was just getting good, and no one was about to ruin the moment for her. The theme song blared loudly from her speakers.

              “Lee Min Ho is such a babe,” she swooned.        

              A loud gurgling sound came from next to her. Minho was shooting her a dirty look and blowing bubbles into his glass of milk. Minhee shot Minho a look of irritation and leaned away from her drink.

              “Do you mind? Trying to watch a drama here.”

              Minho sighed, flopping back on to the cushions of the sofa he was slouched in. “I’ve seen this drama already. Can we watch something else?”

              “Are you crazy?” Minhee snapped, throwing a sofa cushion at his head and missing. Minho crowed triumphantly. “You asked to come over here, remember? You can leave whenever you like.”

              The boy sniffed in offense, and he began to stand up as though making for the door. “Fine. You aren’t any fun. Maybe I will leave.”

              Minhee squealed and grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him back down next to her, careful not to knock over her glass of milk. “No, stay!”

              Minho was pulled down right on top on Minhee, and the two of them tangled together under his weight on the soft cushions. Their breath mixed, and their giggles went quiet when their eyes locked. The mood changed tangibly.

              “You make me smile,” Minho’s face was solemn. “Every day.”

              Minhee swallowed, unsure of how to respond. Should she say it back to him, should she smile, say thank you? Her nerves got the better of her, and the girl was left silent, staring back up at Minho with wide eyes.

              “I want to be the only one in here,” Minho traced his fingers over her collarbones, and Minhee felt every hair on her body stand on end. “I want to be the one to make you smile, too.”

              Electricity. Guilt. She was a mess inside.

              “I’m trying,” she whispered. “I really am.”

              Minho studied her from where he lay. “I know you are.”

              And he kissed her. The drama still played in the background, but Minhee didn’t really care about Lee Min Ho and Park Shin Hye right then; she was too busy feeling the bubbles rise in her stomach.

              Minhee was curled up on her side around the sofa pillow, her knees brought up towards her head. Pain, warm and thick, curled up in her lower abdomen and purred like a cat. Profanities flew from Minhee’s mouth in an angry stream.

              It was that time of the month, and Minhee had never dealt with her periods in a reasonable manner. It was a Saturday afternoon, and the girl curled into a ball on her couch had no intention of getting up.

              Her front door opened and closed, and the rustling of grocery bags reached Minhee’s ears.

              “Chocolate or potato chips?” Chanyeol’s deep voice was falsely cheery. He knew better than anyone to not mess with his girlfriend while she was on her period.

              “Potato chips,” Minhee moaned, her face buried in the pillow. “And a bottle of hot water.”

              “On it.” She had trained him well.

              Minhee was shaken gently by a warm hand brushing her hair away from her neck. She groaned as though irritated, but leaned into the touch, anyway. “I feel like crap.”

              “Here,” was all Chanyeol said as he placed the bag of chips and water bottle next to her. “Want to watch a movie?”

              Minhee handed him the remote and moved over to make room. Chanyeol settled into the cushions, and Minhee wasted no time in replacing the cushion between her legs with her boyfriend. Tucking herself under his arm, she wrapped herself around his torso.

              “Comfy?” Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at her, but continued to hold her close.

              Minhee hummed, and she closed her eyes like a cat. “I’m always comfy with you. It’s all that squish.”

              Squirming away, Chanyeol groaned playfully. “Hey! Not funny!”

              “Come back here,” Minhee made grabby hands at his sides. “I need your squish to keep me warm.”

              Chanyeol jutted out his lower lip. “You don’t appreciate my muscle,” he flexed his arms even though he was wearing a long sleeved flannel with the sleeves pushed to his elbows. Minhee knew that her boyfriend was well endowed in that department, however.

              Not that she would ever admit it to him. She shrugged.

              Chanyeol caved and gently shoved her arm, but tucked her back into him, anyways. “I know you love me.”

              Again, Minhee shrugged, a smile fighting its way on to her lips. “I suppose I do.”

              Rolling his eyes at her childishness, Chanyeol let the conversation go silent. It was a comfortable silence; there was no noise except for the television in the background, but Minhee didn’t watch whatever was playing on the screen. Her boyfriend’s face was much better. Soon, Minhee felt her eyes growing heavy.

              “Thanks for coming, Channie.”

              Chanyeol looked down at her, and that smile that she loved so much made its way across her cheeks. “Of course I came. You have always been the best part of my day.”

              Minhee opened her eyes, surprised by the weight she felt on her torso. She was buried in the couch cushions, but someone’s leg was on her. It was tangled in her legs, already long enough as they were. The mystery limb ended somewhere behind her in the cushions. It was a very warm, very heavy leg belonging to the boy curled up across the couch. 

              Grunting, Minhee tried to wriggle her way out from where she was pinned but wound up very painfully rolling on to the floor, instead. Cursing, she rubbed at her scraped elbow; she was going to get a bruise. 

              It’s okay, Minhee, she told herself. Bruises are very in, these days.

              The figure on the couch turned over, revealing a very fluffy, very sleepy Minho. His normally tidy appearance was decidedly childlike when he was sleeping; his hair hung low in his eyes, and his form somehow seemed smaller, less man and more boy. His eyes slowly opened and blinked in disorientation.

              “Minhee?” He croaked in confusion. His voice was slightly hoarse from having just woken up. “What are you doing on the floor?”

              “I fell,” Minhee grumbled. “You were crushing me.”

              “Sorry,” Minho had the decency to appear guilty, and he slid over to make room. “Want to come back up with me?”

              “It’s okay,” Minhee was still waking up, herself. “I’m up, anyways. I’m going to make myself some coffee. You can keep sleeping, if you want.”

              Minho was already asleep.

              ‘My boyfriend is a bum,” she grumbled.

              “So I’m your boyfriend, now?” Minho called from the sofa he was face planted on.

              Minhee felt her cheeks burn a bright red. “Shut up.”

Hey guys! Sorry this is such a short chapter! I am crazy busy, but I haven't forgotten you all, I promise! I banged out a quick little fluff chapter, but I am going to have things unfold fully within the next five chapters! Also I am not exactly happy with how I wrote the lasat chapter, so I may cut that chapter up and split it into parts or something, I'm not sure yet.