"I really can’t stay."

Minho’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer, but you already have your hat and shoes on and you’re determined to leave before the storm gets any worse.

"Baby, it’s cold outside."

He crawls across the bed, wrapping his long, lean arms around your waist and tugging you away from the edge of the bed. His chin rests on your shoulder.

"I’ve got to go away."

You do, really. Spending the night here was not in your plans.

"Baby, it’s cold outside."

He does have a point, though. That’s the problem. It’s -20 degrees out there and with the wind chill it feels like -50 something.

"This evening has been…"

Minho’s lips are on your neck and you lose your train of thought.

"Been hoping you’d stop in."

His utterance is barely above a murmur, a sinfully low and seductive tone to an already unfairly attractive voice.

"…So very nice."

Minho’s hands slide across your sides, detaching themselves from your body and moving up to grab at your hands.

"I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice."

Of course they were. It’s not like Minho had enough money to keep his house warm.

"My mother will start to worry…"

She probably already was.

"Beautiful, what’s your hurry?"

His dang lips are on your next again and it takes you a few seconds to figure out why you were arguing against him.

Oh yeah.

"Father will be pacing the floor."

Most likely with a shotgun in hand.

"Listen to the fireplace roar."

He knew you loved the snapping and popping sounds a fire made. Plus that woody burnt smell? There was nothing better on a cold winter’s night.

"So really I’d better scurry…"

Stop getting distracted. There’s no way you’re staying here tonight.

"Beautiful, please don’t hurry."

Minho’s hands wander away from your’s, and instead find themselves linked around your torso as he tightens his grip on you.

You really didn’t want to leave. Minho was warm. Outside was cold…

"Maybe just a half a drink more…"

Hot chocolate was also warm. What was the harm in an extra cup before you brave the wicked wintry wonderland going on out there?

"Put some records on while I pour."

The last one had stopped half an hour ago and Minho loved his classical music. He was also probably just trying to make sure you wouldn’t flee the second he let go of you.

"The neighbors might think-"

"Baby, it’s bad out there."

He hands you a warm mug, and you accept it gratefully as you curl back up into the warm bed.  

You take a sip of the hot chocolate, letting the warmth travel down your throat and settle in your stomach. It was good. Better than good, actually.

"Hey, what’s in this drink?"

Minho ignores your question and stares out the window onto the street, watching the wind kick up flurries of powdery snow.

"No cabs to be had out there."

He sounds almost delighted at this fact.

Not only that, but you’re having serious issues trying to figure out how to get out of here. You don’t want to leave.

You have to leave.

But you don’t want to.

"I wish I knew how…"

Minho turns his attention back to you, a soft smile on his lips as he plucks the mug out of your hands and sets it down gingerly on the nightstand.

"Your eyes are like starlight now."

He was you in slowly. Abort mission.

Abort freaking mission.

"To break the spell…"

You don’t know if you want to break the spell. You were enjoying this spell very much actually.

Minho’s hand rests on your cheek, thumb rubbing against the skin soothingly. His other hand, though…

"I’ll take your hat, your hair looks swell."

The warm, fuzzy knit cap your mom had made you for Christmas disappears and no, your hair probably does not look swell but Minho doesn’t seem to care.

"I ought to say no, no, no…"

"Mind if I move in closer?"

Does he really need to ask? He’s already giving you the hooded bedroom eyes look as he leans in closer to you, moving over to invade your side of the bed.

"At least I’m going to say that I tried."

You kick off your shoes and snuggle into Minho’s warm chest, watching the snowdrifts start to form in the middle of the deserted street.

"What’s the sense in hurting my pride?"

There was none. Were people going to actually believe you tried to say no to him when it was negative twenty degrees out there and he was offering you a warm bed and snuggling?

"I simply must go."

Your parents were going to murder you if you didn’t leave soon.

"Baby, it’s cold outside."

You knew that. But still…

"The answer is no."

"Baby, it’s cold outside."

"The welcome has been…"

Lips. On your neck. Dang it, he knew you couldn’t concentrate when he was kissing your neck!

"How lucky you dropped in."

Yes, how lucky. If you hadn’t, he’d be here alone and you’d be alone in your room, which wasn’t very appealing but at least then you wouldn’t get in trouble…

"… so nice and warm."

"Look out the window, at that storm."

Minho’s trying to dissuade you be you’re not giving in. But the storm is really bad… and it’s so, so cold…

"My sister will be suspicious…"

When you get home she’ll probably keep you awake for three hours begging for every detail of your night with Minho.

"Gosh your lips look delicious."

He’s not even listening to you, is he?

"My brother will be there, at the door…"

Too bad Minho was a half a foot taller and oodles more muscular than your brother and nothing about that statement sounded like a threat to him.

"Waves upon a tropical storm…"

You don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore.

Minho’s hand caresses your cheek softly, cupping your face and focusing solely on his object of desire.

Which, at this moment, happened to be your lips.

You don’t have the willpower to push him away when his lips come down on your’s, moving slowly as he deepens the kiss and tangles his fingers in your already messy hair.

Finally, you pull away to defend yourself before you completely forget why you’re arguing with him in the first place.

"My aunt’s mind is just vicious…"

She’d rip you apart for staying the night at a guy’s house.

"Gosh, your lips are delicious…"

And he’s still not paying any attention to a word coming out of your mouth.

Jerk.

But that doesn’t change the fact that the way you’re snuggled up to him right now is possibly the warmest and most comfortable position in the world with the best guy in the world and it’s getting harder and harder to resist…

"But maybe just a few minutes more…"

He kisses you again lightly, smiling triumphantly.

"Never such a blizzard before."

Minho’s back to grabbing for your hand, his thumb rubbing circles in your palm as he watches the storm waging war out on the empty street.

"I’ve got to get home…"

Your voice is nothing but a whisper now. Saying it louder might make you sound more eager and you were not eager to ever get out of this bed.

"But baby, you’d freeze out there."

He reaches up and brushes a rather frizzy piece of hair out of your face, which reminds you that the last make out session and your hat had given you serious hair problems that needed to be fixed before going home.

Make out hair and stressed parents weren’t a good combination.

"Say, lend me your comb."

"It’s up to your knees out there."

He just looks sad now and you feel like you’re about to break his heart.

"You’ve really been grand…"

It’s time to go. Go now before he stops you.

You stand up and head towards the door, Minho following behind you as you grab your shoes and slip on your coat.

"You’re going to make me sad."

Stop with the big pleading eyes, Minho. Stop that right now.

"But, don’t you see…"

He pulls you into a kiss, deep and desperate and it’s already eleven o’clock… it’s practically the next day already…

"How could you do this to me?"

You don’t want to do this to him. That’s the problem.

"There’s bound to be talk tomorrow."

Talk from your parents, sister, brother, friends, neighbors… oh, it will spread like wildfire.

"Think of my life long sorrow…"

"At least there’ll be plenty implied…"

Oh, there will be lot’s of implications.

"…if you caught pneumonia and died…"

You weren’t going to die if you went outside, Minho! Well, hopefully not.

But then Minho reaches down and cups your head in his hands, kissing you thoroughly to the point where you can’t remember your first name and you figure you might as well not take the risk…

"I really can’t stay…"

You don’t sound very convincing.

"Get over that old doubt."

He sounds much more confident than you do.

Suddenly, going home at this hour and in this weather seems pretty ridiculous when you had someone like Choi Minho to cuddle up to by the fire.

His hand slips to the small of your back, pulling you into another kiss as he pulls the coat you’re wearing off and tosses it onto the chair.

You almost had forgotten how cold it was in his house until you were standing in the living room without something to protect your skin.

"Baby, it’s cold!"

Minho doesn’t need to be told twice and scoops you up, making his way back to the bedroom with the warm bed and crackling fireplace that is certain to seal the deal of you spending the rest of the night here.

It takes only a minute or two to settle back into the warmth of Minho’s embrace, and you wonder how you were even able to put up for a fight for as long as you did.

But then again, your parents are going to be furious in the morning, and just the thought of their faces alone is enough to make you want to get back up and try to get back to the house…

But then again…

Baby, it’s cold outside.