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You don’t care if he’ll mock you and pull on that stupid smug smile he usually does when you initiate affection first, it doesn’t matter right now. All you longed for was his warmth, the one that radiates through your body the moment you attach yourself to him.
Haechan’s mean, yet meaningless quips about your clinginess fall on deaf ears because all you can hear is the pace of his heartbeat with your head leveled to his chest, knees trying their hardest to maintain their form to stabilize your position. You hear his pulse quicken and the right side of your mouth quirks upward the slightest, but you’d rather not bring it up now; you don’t want to risk him pushing you away as petty punishment. That isn’t something you need right now.
Concern comes creeping up on him due to the lack of any type of response, so he pulls you up and engulfs you into his arms properly. Naturally, like a moth to a flame, your face pieces itself into the slope of his neck and shoulder. Jasmine, wood, and the slightest linger of sweat.
“Hey.” He properly acknowledges you, no bullshit lines embellishing his words for the first time tonight. Though, one single word was spoken, you could hear the worry in his voice. Your continuous steady breathing tells him no information aside from the fact that you’re probably not ignoring him, just resting. He can tell you’re not asleep by the twitch of your hands and the way you shift your body here and there, but he thinks you wouldn’t want to keep standing.
Though you aren’t sleeping, you don’t notice Haechan has moved— your almost limp body still in his hold— by your doorway.
He puts his hands on your shoulders with the right amount of weight to turn you around to face the inside of your room. You whine in protest, but he manages to keep you facing forward. “I’ll assume standing up while you’re about to fall asleep isn’t comfortable.”
You don’t know how (you don’t have any energy to), but the moment his grasp loosens the slightest, somehow your head is back on his shoulder, much to his dismay. Well, not quite. In fact, he enjoys it; Haechan so madly adores you the same as you do, but neither know. He enjoys it to the point that he starts to feel as if it’s wrong, that you aren’t in your right mind for him to feel like this.
And his intuition is right, you aren’t in your right mind, that’s exactly why you keep sticking yourself to him. “No matter how comfortable, my bed isn’t as warm as you.”
From his neck up, Haechan starts to feel a rush of blood. He wants to turn his head to the side out of rare embarrassment, but you’re still there. It’s a good reminder for him that all of this is happening, it’s strangely real. “But this,” he gestures to the both of you to the best of his abilities, “is not comfortable.”
You don’t notice he reiterated what he had previously told you, but with your response, it seems like you did. He hasn’t regarded it either, he’s really focused on you getting your deserved eyeshut. He’ll ask you about your day tomorrow.
“Just tell me you want to get rid of me.” You say lightheartedly; he doesn’t take it that way.
“That’s not my intention. You need to sleep properly.”
“I will if you’re beside me.” An invitation. Not a direct one, but still an invitation.
He reroutes the both of you to the restroom, switching the light on before attempting to let you stand on your own and face the tiled walls and shower curtain. An indirect acceptance. “Let’s get you ready for bed first, okay?”
Again, you turn around and try to protest, but he lightly scolds you to use that remaining energy to freshen up instead. He’s back in your room, gathering all the things he needs to do your night routine. A smile progressively graces his face the moment he hears the water run.
Your roommate is a promise of a sunny morning.