I just finished the last of my notes when I heard my phone beep, signaling that there was a text.

 

Be there soon. I miss you. x

 

It’s been two solid weeks since we last met and we weren’t talking as much through phones because we were both busy. To say that I missed him would’ve been an understatement. I tidied up the dinner table, piling up my books and leaving them on one side while I thought of something to cook. I checked the clock and calculated the time I had. I settled on making some pasta when my phone beeped again.

 

Don’t cook anything. Already ate out.

 

I rolled my eyes at him. Even if he’d already eat out, I’d still cook because he’d still eat. I fixed my hair into a loose bun and started my cooking. I just turned off the stove when I heard him. The front door locks clicked. I listened as his keys jingled on the other side of the door. I peeked at the front door from the kitchen, he opened the door with his head bowed; he had his work bag hanging on his right shoulder. He took the keys out of the doorknob and pocketed them. He trudged to the living room and slumped down the sofa, his work bag tossed recklessly on the floor. I watched him take off his sun glasses and rub the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He looked exhausted.  I stood up from the dining table, dinner and homework pushed away from my mind and walked to the living room, waiting for him to notice me. He didn’t. His eyes were closed. He called out for my name once then sighed.

“________?” He called out once more, settling in more comfortably on the couch.

“Tired?” I whispered. I didn’t need to raise my voice because the whole apartment was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

I saw his body tense up for a second then relax again. He nodded with his eyes still closed.

“Yes. Mental block earlier.” He tossed his sunglasses on the center table and looked at me.

“How was yours?” he smiled, noticing what I was wearing.

I was happy he always asked how my day went even when I answered the same thing. Med school wasn’t exactly as exciting as his life was. He had a career as an idol while I was still in school, finishing my course. We’ve been through countless arguments about him leaving me or me leaving him so that we could focus more on our lives but he always stayed. Even when I tried pushing him away, he’d pop up one day by my dorm and persuade me to come back. And I always did. We just got tired of arguing and ending with the same thing, staying together. We settled on just letting what will happen to us, happen.

“Same as always,” I shrugged. “Med school is becoming routinely.” I smiled shyly. He gestured to the shirt I was wearing. Just then did I remember what I was wearing.

“Oh!” I looked down his shirt then back at him. “I hope you don’t mind, I ran out of shirts earlier and—”

“It’s okay.” He smiled widely,“I like it when you wear my stuff.” He admitted sheepishly. I was wearing his grey loose shirt and some sweats. My laundry was still in the shop and I had to pick them up on Tuesday.

 “How are the boys?” I asked. He gestured for me to sit beside him on the sofa. I went to him and curled up on his side. He draped his arm around me and positioned my legs on his lap. I took his other hand and massaged it gently. He hummed in response.

“They’re doing well, of course. Yoongi hyung and Hoseok has made songs already. I feel pressured that I have to make more because that’s what I do.”  He sighed happily as I massaged a part of his hand that was tense.

“I made pasta.” I pointed to the kitchen with my thumb. He only nodded.

“Food, later. Thank you.” He said with his eyes closed. I knew the thought of food was all out of him once he let his eyes close. I made a mental note to put the pasta in the refrigerator after his massage. I put my focus back on him.

“Why would you feel pressured…” I trailed off as I worked my way up from his hand to his forearm that was, for some reason, cold and pale. I assumed he forgot to turn up the temperature of the air conditioning in their studio again. My eyes sneaked a glance at his face. His lips were chapped again. It took me an immense amount of strength not to touch them.

Purring in satisfaction at the massage I was giving him, he replied, his words only a soft murmur,

“I’m the leader. I have to set an example.”  He was leaning more on me the longer I massaged him. I stopped massaging his arm, but before he could protest, I placed my hand at his back and started lightly scratching it. Every guy loves his back getting scratched.

I could have told him how being the leader didn’t mean that he would harbor the entire burden. That’s why he had his team with him, so they could help him. He always stressed himself about him being the leader. I could have, but I didn’t.

“Wah, that feels nice.” He whispered in his language as he bent down a little more making him lean on my legs with his hands. He held on to my legs and squeezed then once in a while, making me more confident about what I was doing. I felt my heart heartbeat go rapid. His hands felt cold against my skin. I ignored the loud beating of my unstable heart and tried to focus on him.

“How many have you made?” I asked, referring to the songs for their next album. I knew he wasn’t going to answer because he was still focused on the pleasure he was receiving from the back scratching. I laughed inwardly and hummed a song to see if he’d fall asleep. I hummed his favorite song as I continued my job. Less than 3 minutes later, I heard his quiet snores. He always started like this, quiet snores then louder then louder. I was used to it though. When he did snore, it sometimes lulled me to sleep. Then in the morning, he’d be snoring so loud which would serve as my alarm. It was both a blessing and a curse.

“Hey.” I cooed. I stopped scratching his back and started gently rubbing it. “Yah, wake up.” I whispered directly at his ear. I didn’t get any response but a louder snore. I giggled and tried pulling him towards me so he could lie down the sofa. He didn’t move an inch.

“Wake up.” I said, now a little bit louder. I tried patting his shoulder; nothing. I sighed. I tried removing my legs from in between his hands and his lap but he used them as pillows. I tried wiggling my way out of his grip but he held onto me tighter.

“Yah, Kim Namjoon.” I warned him. He only moaned and shook his head. I sighed at him. He is such a baby.

“That’s it.” I pulled my legs from his grasp. I thought he’d wake up but instead, he only mumbled something that sounded like a no in his language and held me tighter. I huffed. This guy, really.

 I sighed, giving up on him ever letting go. I chuckled at his snores. They were getting louder now which meant that he was getting deeper into his sleep. I heard Rapmon’s paws on the kitchen floor. I called him, ignoring the fact that Namjoon was asleep beside me. Rapmon trotted over and I tapped my lap to let him up. He jumped up to my lap and started sniffing on his owner. I called his attention so that I could pet him. He lied down my lap, curled up to sleep again. I shook my head at him.

“Like master, like dog, huh?” I whispered. I leaned on the sofa and tried to join the slumber party.