He woke up to a familiar yet unfamiliar room. He looked around the room. The neat bookshelf and lamp. The small desk with a semi-dying plant. He felt something shift beside him. He looked to see you.
He felt his heart warm. With you he felt like a high school boy all giddy with their crush.
(POV: you're me and you know Wi Ha-Jun's type 🥲)
You opened your eyes and stretched your arms out. Your one hand coming in contact with warm muscle.
It took you a moment to realise that is was Jun-Ho. Your gaze traveled to where your hand was. Seeing his toned stomach underneath it.
"Are you okay, I didn't hurt you. Did I?" He asked with genuine concern. He never meant to be rough. He was always gentle. He guessed it was the pent up frustration.
"I'm fine, and you?" You asked with a lopsided smile.
"I'm great." He smiled at you, turning over and faces you. His hands folded underneath his head.
"You sure?" He asked.
You let out an airy chuckle. Taking your hands and placing them on the sides of his face you kissed his forehead. "I'm," you kissed his temple. "Fine," then his other. "So," his nose. "Stop." His right cheek. "Worrying." His left. "About." His chin. "Me." Finally kissing his lips.
