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"I don't know, I'm still worried a little" he admits in a chuckle as he bounces the basket full of little knick-knacks carefully chosen for your room.
It's Sunday morning and you've been around the shops for about two hours now, looking for any decoration that can make your place more personal.
"You're still on that?" you snort putting on that fake pout you play like a wild card every time he teases you for mere personal entertainment. “I already told you: I'll be tidier! I'll set up an alarm on my cell phone to remind me to water the plants, I'll tidy my wardrobe every week and I won't let my gorgeous brand new motivational pictures get dusty, okay?!"
At this vain promise of yours, he simply lowers his head in an attempt to hide from you the curve of his body you love the most, the same curve that plums up his cheeks and reduces his eyes to small and tender slits. You just can't understand how those lips manage to make your heart flutter even when they're laughing at you.
Once in the stationery department, you have been focused for too long on two sparkling sets of ballpoint pens: a candy pink one, and a pastel violet one. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin playing with every click-pen that comes his way, desperate for your attention. Amused by his attitude - and still on the defensive after the comments about your sense of order - you decide to march on it, spending far too many thoughts on a couple of pens. You take a third in your hand, simulating a stupor that heralds at least another five minutes of careful analysis. At this point he gets impatient; he steals all the sets from under your nose and throws them in the basket, then dragging you by the hand towards a different department, he doesn't really care which one at this point.
A real big baby.
"What do you think?" he asks out of nowhere, taking your attention away from the pillowcases.
"A lamp?"
"Don't you like it?" He knows that it would perfectly fit the style you're looking for for your bedroom. That's why he looks so puzzled. “I thought it would be a good idea. You always complain about not being able to read while you're in bed at night or having to get up to turn off the light from the main switch ... ” he murmurs as if he had made some kind of senseless request. He is always so attentive to what you say, there's always so much concern in his actions.
You come closer, your heart in a mush, and you leave him a light kiss on the cheek.
"It's just that I hadn't thought of getting one," you explain yourself in a soft voice, holding on to his arm and resting your head on his shoulder. "But, as usual, you think about my needs better than I do."
You express your thoughts loudly, clearly, but with love and warmth.