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F I F T Y - F O U R
.·:*¨ ¨*:·.

When I woke up, Minho was still snuggled on top of me. And lord, he was too cute when he slept.

Quite chubby cheeks. Deep breaths came out of his nose as now and then he readjusted his head on my chest. Minho's arms were wrapped around my waist tightly, and I would've bet that I couldn't even escape them if I tried. His hair was messy, not styled for once. Sometimes a small sound that yet sounded different than snoring escaped his half open mouth.

Overall, very cute.

"Love," I whispered, not wanting to get up but knowing we had to if we wanted to arrive in Spain on time. "Gotta wake up."

He groaned, but didn't seem to wake up.

"Minhooo." I slid a hand in his soft hair. "Or how about I drive? You can sleep."

With a grunt, he shook his head in a small motion.

I smiled at him, now trailing my nails over the back of his neck, under his shirt, and back to his hair. "Come on, love. In Spain I'll cuddle you until you can't take it anymore, okay?"

"Five more minutes." He murmured.

I exhaled quietly. "Did you overwork again?"

"No." He said, tone low and quiet. "I spent all my time with you in France."

I blushed, my stomach doing a flip at the thought he put his work away for me.
"Then why are you so tired?"

"You're so warm." He muttered, half dreaming as he said this, as if he was drunk. "And comfortable. What body wash do you use?"

I laughed under my breath before placing a kiss on his head. "Five more minutes, then."

With a satisfied smile, he pressed his head even closer to my body.

Five minutes later, "We really have to go now, Minho. I'll drive."

"It's only been a minute." He said. "Four more."

"It's been five." I chuckled. "Let's go." Hiding how much I hated it, I slowly got up and climbed all the way to the drivers' seat. "Can I drive?"

Minho rubbed his eyelids. "Do I need a helmet?"

"No." I laughed. "Just a seatbelt."

He adjusted the chair straight up before he put on a seatbelt and handed me the keys of the car. It had been a while since I drove, but I could do it.

Except a Porsche was a little different than an old car my mother first owned... though after a while, I got used to it.

After a few minutes of driving and Minho yawning, stretching his arms, and attempting to fixing his hair, my phone made a sound.

"Can you check it?" I asked him just like he asked me last time. A part of me suddenly worried it would've been a text from Aiden, but it was too late; Minho already picked the thing up.

"What kind of phone is this?" He inspected the thing for a while.

"Oh, I don't even know." I shrugged. "Password is your birthday too."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏 ✩ Minho, TMR AUWhere stories live. Discover now