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Summary
“You’re warm,” he murmured, voice soft.
“You’re heavy,” I teased back, though my words betrayed me; I didn’t want him to move.
After a pause of silence, Minho spoke again, this time more hushed, almost like he was talking to himself. “You’re quiet.”
He shifted slightly, letting out a soft hum, a sound that was almost a sigh, and I felt that familiar tension coil tight in my chest. Every touch, every shared moment, was a line drawn in invisible ink. It was delicate, fleeting, dangerous in its own way.
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Bookmark Notes:
So sweet
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Bookmark Notes:
cute
