I heard noises. The noise, I recognized, were papers rustling somewhere near. I blinked a few times before opening my eyes. I wasn’t in the living room anymore. I was in my bedroom. Our bedroom. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes then tried to look for the source of the noise. It was no other than him working. The dim light of his lamp highlighted his stature, which was slumped over his work table. I reached for my phone on the nightstand to check the time. It was fifteen minutes to three. I sat up straight, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

 

This late again? I thought to myself. He’s been staying up really late for the past couple of weeks. I watched him work. I heard him sigh then click his tongue before ripping out a piece of paper from the notebook he was writing on and crumpling it then tossing it on the floor. He leaned back on the chair and sighed tiredly. I saw him run his hand through his hair then angrily scratch on his head.

 

“.” He cussed. “Menbung.” He whined like a kid, his voice cracking a little at the end. He cleaned his work table by pushing the pile of crumpled papers off it, not bothering about the mess he’s making on the floor. It worried me seeing him like this at this hour. He always slept so late and woke up too early. I unconsciously let out a sigh and before I could stop myself, he had already turned towards me.

 

“I’m sorry. Did I disturb you? I’m so sorry—” I tried apologizing. He was already so stressed and I’m here, disturbing him. I tried sitting up properly which resulted to my elbow getting bumped on the headboard. I in a breath through my teeth as I felt a short electric sensation course through my arm. I shivered. I examined the elbow for any scratches and let out a sigh when I saw none. Clumsy. I looked back at Namjoon. He was holding back his laughter. His computer chair was completely turned around to face me now. I let out a nervous laugh at my embarrassment. I told him I was sorry for disturbing his work again. He shook his head at me.

 

“Why are you apologizing?”

 

 He cocked his head to the side and smiled a crooked smile. I felt my heart beat get erratic as he did so.

 

“You were working…and I didn’t want to be a nuisance...” I trailed off, unsure of what to tell him. Until now, I felt burdened that he had to stay here whenever he had days off from his busy and stressful idol life. No matter how much I enjoyed spending time with him, a small part of me felt bothered that he hasn’t been getting rest. It bothered me a lot.

 

 I held my head down, afraid to look into his eyes. I didn’t want to see his annoyed expression at me to know he got annoyed. I apologized one more time and tried to slide off the bed. All this thinking got me into a bad mood. I wanted to go outside for a while.

 

“Hey,” he quietly called out when he saw me move, “You’re not a nuisance,—“he sighed, “You were never a nuisance.” I heard his computer chair squeak against the wooden floor. He walked to the bed and sat down in front of me. I still had my head down. I was busy eyeing my nails. I my cuticles, suddenly finding an immense interest in them rather anything in the room. His hands suddenly intruded my line of vision as he took both my hands in his.

 

“Jagiya,” He called out. I gulped.

 

 He knew how I felt about him using his Korean at me. It was my weakness. My heart beat faster. I frowned at it; at how weak I was for him. I didn’t look up, no matter how much I wanted to. I focused on the problem right now rather than his soft hands. We haven’t been holding hands, nor doing any kind of contact lately. The most contact we had been earlier, when I massaged him and scratched his back. So this simple gesture, no matter how small it may be, made me find it hard to breath.

 

I heard him chuckle. He called out again, with that damned Korean of his.

 

“Jagiya, look at me.”

 

 I heard his raspy voice speak in his language. I took a deep breath to calm myself and looked at him from under my lashes. His eyes showed nothing but genuine adoration. His mouth was curved into a soft smile. I felt my cheeks heat up at this.

 

His raspy voice tuned out the harsh humming of the air condition, and made my insides bubble up. No matter how many times I’ve already heard him say those three words, no matter what language he used, it never failed to make my heart skip a beat.

 

“Saranghae,” His soft smile turned into a crooked one. I noticed his cheeks darken under the dim light. He was blushing. I couldn’t laugh at him and point it out because, I, myself was blushing probably a thousand shades of red too. I nodded weakly at his words and subtly rolled my eyes at ourselves, looking down again. We were so weird.  We weren’t the kind to express much feeling whatsoever but when we did; we didn’t even do it well. I exhaled through my nose, as a sign of laughter. I couldn’t stop thinking about how funny we looked right now. He must have noticed because when I looked at him, he was fighting his own fit of giggles.

 

“Yah,” my raspy morning voice called out at him, “What’s so funny, huh?” I tried sounding mean and arrogant but it came out as a weak attempt by the sound of it. He let out a breathy chuckle and shook his head. I rolled my eyes at him and squeezed his hands. They were cold. I formed his large hands into a cup and blew on it to as an attempt to make it warm. He always did this to me when it was the season for snow and indoors. I held his hands in mine and cupped them in front of my mouth. I alternated between looking at him and looking at his hands while I blew on it lightly. He was only watching me with wide doe eyes. I blinked at him and stopped.

 

“What.” I demanded. I didn’t like it when he was cold. He always let himself get cold and sickly. His hands were very sensitive to the cold and they were the first ones to become glacial.

 

He shrugged at me and pointed at his hands with his mouth, making a kissy face for a second. “It feels nice.” He whispered. He then pulled his hands gently away from mine and got on all fours to crawl beside me. I waited for him to sit down. I thought he was going to sit down until he raised the blanket I was under and crawl under it too. I shivered as a cold breeze hit my thighs. Only did I notice that I was in my shorts. My sleeping shorts. Normally, I would have cowered away from his touch since I was dressed so scantily. But today, I told myself that I deserved it. I remembered the exam I had before and how I aced it, no sweat. I at least deserved a hug from him.

 

I pushed away all other thoughts as I lied down the bed again, on my side, so I could face him. He was facing me too, his muscled arms folded in a way that looked uncomfortable to him. I let out a soft giggle at his position. It was evident on his face that he was having a hard time with what to do with his arms. I smiled at him. He smiled back, his signature crooked smile. It made my heart beat fast again.

 

“Are you comfortable in that position,” I pointed out, instead of asking. He chuckled and shook his head.

 

“I’m not sure what to do—“

 

“Can we hug?” I whispered at him. I was suddenly excited of the thought of having my skin against his and inhaling his scent.

 

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Even with the one year and two months that we’ve been together, he was always careful not to do anything I wouldn’t like. He was always cautious and asking. And I was very thankful that he was so. But this time, eager for his touch and scent, I couldn’t hold back; I nodded, more eager than I thought I would. He let out a shy smile and raised his left arm, forming a cozy looking cave made especially for me. I shyly scooted from my side of the bed, onto the middle, and finally, onto his side. I was slightly shocked at how excited I was to get in his arms and to be enclosed by them. Have I missed him this much? I asked myself.

 

“Get in a little more.” He whispered. I was by his forearms. I thought this was ‘hug’ enough. Turns out, it wasn’t. I scooted closer to him for a few inches and stopped. My arm was lying uncomfortably on his left forearm now. I tried shifting into a new position to suit both parties. I was startled when he suddenly pulled in his arms and drew me in. I hit his chest with my face, resulting to a very un lady-like ‘oomph’ to echo around the room. I heard his hearty laugh then a question if I was okay. I hummed against his chest, nodding. I inhaled his scent and sighed. It felt comfortable being in his arms.

 

He let out another breathy chuckle. He let me loose a little so I could move away from him. Honestly, if I didn’t need to, to breath, I wouldn’t of have. I closed my eyes, letting my brain relax for what felt like the first time in years. And as amazingly as ever, the words that came out of his mouth was almost as if he’s read my mind.

 

“When was the last time we relaxed—“

 

“I don’t know. We’ve never hugged like this—“

 

“No, not like this—“he thought of the right words to say, “—like, this. Like, breathing and sighing contently. We were always so busy.” He buried his face in my unruly hair. I felt him inhale. I suddenly felt conscious about hygiene. He must’ve noticed because I felt his arms wrap tighter around me.

 

“You smell fine, don’t worry.”

 

He sighed into my hair and I saw his shoulder slump down further into the mattress. My hands were still uncomfortably and very politely in front of me, like how you would let your arms be in front of you when you sit down. My palms were facing my thighs. I waited for a few moments, finding the right time to speak up.

 

“Um—“I cleared my throat “—can I hug you?” I asked, my hands itching for his body warmth. He laughed; a loud booming laugh that echoed through the room. I tried my best to hide my embarrassment yet I knew my cheeks were displaying every shade of red. His arm that was wrapped around me, on top, he used to reach for my hands under the blanket. His hand light brushed my thighs and made me lose my breath for a second. He seemed oblivious to this because he continued to pull out my hands and wrap it around him. When he was done with his work, one arm around him, the other on his chest, he resumed his comfortable position and looked at me.

 

“Jagiya,” he sounded like he was tired of explaining how something worked but still loved to explain it every time, “—you’re my girlfriend. It’s okay for you to touch me. You don’t have to ask like I do.” He kissed my hair.

 

I nodded, my forehead, now warm, brushed against his clothed chest. I tried breathing exercises to calm me down. But then a thought popped into my mind,

 

 “But you ask me every time, I wouldn’t like for me to be unfair, not bothering to ask you. You ask me all the time and I continue to say it’s alright, but you—“

 

“I know. That’s because I wouldn’t want you to feel anything bad from me, that’s why.”

 

“But—“

 

“No ‘buts’. I’ll ask, you won’t, okay?”

 

At any other time, I would have stood up, and argued with him, but I wanted to stay in his arms longer so I thought against it. I nodded, agreeing with him once more.

 

“Okay. But I will still ask you once in a while, at least grant me that.”

 

“Alright, only that,” He hugged me tighter.

 

 And for an immeasurable amount of time, we only lay there, our breathing the calming background music mixed with the quiet humming of the air condition. Our breathing, I noticed, was in sync. When he breathed in, I breathed out and vice versa. I closed my eyes, trying my best to feel everything right now. His long, slender fingers playing with my hair, my face buried on the crook on his neck, his intoxicating scent filling my senses and the feel of him in my hands. It felt so right. It felt timeless. I wanted to stay in this moment forever. After another immeasurable amount of time, he let out a sigh. His breathing turned into quiet snores. I felt relieved that he fell asleep. He needed sleep.

 

“Hey—” I whispered, hoping he was still awake. I tried squeezing out his grasp. After a three minute battle with his strength and the blankets, I won. I went out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me. I walked to the kitchen in his gray lose shirt and my sleeping shorts to cook food. Remembering the pasta I cooked last night, my eyes searched for the pan to be on the stove. It wasn’t there. I walked to the kitchen and opened to fridge to see that it was messily shoved onto one of the shelves. I smiled, thanking Namjoon. He probably did this. I checked the wall clock. It was already four a.m. I was thankful that it was Sunday. We always had Sundays to ourselves. It was our day of the week. I proceeded to cook breakfast for myself and coffee. I went to my study table and sat down. I decided on finishing the left over homework from last night so I could spend my whole day with him. I missed him and I didn’t want this day to go to waste. I just hope he had nothing to do today.