༄ ON Thursday, Sam and Jeff ate dinner at home, both aware they would be staying at Thomas's house in the weekend. Exact reason why they invited themselves home now.

"So..." Jeff broke the awkward silence. After their father discovered what Edith had done, neither of the parents seemed very comfortable. "Thomas invited us over for a sleepover this weekend. Can we go?"

"As long as you won't get into trouble."

Sam cleared her throat. "And Minho and I are going to the cinema this Friday. That alright, too?"

If it weren't alright, she'd go anyways.

"Yeah, sure."

"So we're not hating on Minho today?" Sam straightened her back at her mother, who nodded in agreement with Sahil. "That's new."

"There's other things going on right now. The school has some problems."

She hummed. "I mean, with that principal..."

"Sorry?"

Sam coughed louder. "Uh— I asked what was going on."

"Teachers are missing answer models," Edith summarized.

She nearly choked on her food. Those answer models were definitely the ones she stole with Minho. "Well, it wouldn't surprise me that much. At least half of the students wants free answers. Good luck with that search party."

Her mother sighed, but nodded. Then, she changed the subject. "What movie are you going to?"

"I don't know. Minho invited me and I simply agreed." Sam stabbed her fork into a potato. "Jeff, what do you think?"

"Minho's taste in movies is the most random ever." The boy shrugged. "From horror to romcoms, I swear."

"We better not go to a horror movie." She now stabbed her fork into the food a bit more aggressive. "Though I don't think Minho would let me go through that torture."

He totally would if it lead to Sam crawling on his lap from fright.

❤︎︎

A day later, Sam dressed into beige cargo pants, and a white, long-sleeved top, and had put on her Converse shoes. Her hair was down. She had filled it with enough water and gel for it to sit nicely, and not look like she'd been electrocuted.

Big smiles were stuck on both their faces when they saw each other, Sam nearly running toward Minho while he sat on his motorcycle, her helmet already in his hands.

"Hey," she greeted, and couldn't help but to kiss him. "I got you these. It's stupid, but I—"

His finger on her lips stopped her from speaking already. Gratefully, Minho took the paper roses out of her hands, the fake bouquet she had made when she had been bored after school.

"They're beautiful," he assured. "Not stupid. Beautiful and not stupid, like you!"

Sam smiled at the cheesy comment. "I'm glad you like them."

"I told you I would." He smiled back. "I wanted to buy you roses, but the store ran out and my motor would've ruined them anyway."

"The movie is already enough," she assured fast, blushing. "Can't wait for you to pay for my enormous bag of popcorn."

He raised his eyebrows. "Can't wait for you to pay for my bag of chips."

Sam chuckled. When she tried climbing on the back of his motor, Minho stopped her.

"What?"

"You can't do that without wearing the suit."

Sam exhaled. "I don't see the difference."

"The difference is, Sammy, that if we fall, we'll slide who knows how many feet over the road. And with the speed that'll go, your skin will be scraped off to the bone without a suit. And though I'm completely certain I will catch you if we ever happen to fall, I still don't want anything that doesn't have to happen to you, to happen." 

Fast, she nodded. "Right. Understood."

The image of her skin being scraped off to the bones was enough to put the suit on, and then, of course, get lifted onto the motorcycle by Minho, as if she still couldn't do it herself.

Well, she wasn't complaining.

The ride to the cinema didn't take long. They arrived sooner than she thought they would, and again, Minho lifted her off the vehicle.

"What movie are we going to, by the way?"

"The Bodyguard."

(Let's pretend it's not a movie from 1992)

Sam was thoughtful. "I think I've seen the trailer. Isn't it about a celebrity who gets stalked? And then hires a bodyguard who she falls in love with?"

"Yup," Minho confirmed. "Thriller and romance section. But if you want something else—"

"It sounds great." She touched his arm as they walked inside the cinema.

He politely handed their tickets in (Sam didn't complain about him paying for it at all... no offense), and as they earlier joked about, bought each other food.

It wasn't crowded in the cinema, surprisingly enough. Maybe because The Bodyguard had been played for a while already, and most people already saw it. Whatever, Sam was happy enough only five other people were in presence.

The couple sat down on their assigned seats. They sat way in the back, but had perfect sight on the giant screen, where random videos were shown now.

She turned her head. "You're staying over at Thomas's house too, right? This weekend?"

Minho nodded. "But," he started, then seemed to hesitate. His Adam's apple moved, and Sam lifted an eyebrow, patient but curious.

"But I was wondering if maybe tonight, you would want to stay with me. In my house," he suggested. "Since my parents are barely home, I do have make sure our stupid fishes don't die. And I'd rather not show you the messiest, tiniest house on earth—"

"I really don't give a shit about the size of your house, Minho."

"Right." He cleared his throat. "But as I was saying, my room's half decent. And no one ever enters the guest room, so that's perfect."

She turned her head back to the screen, swallowing. "The guest room."

"Yeah. We luckily do have space for that left. Three rooms, one bathroom."

Sam hummed. Her jaw tightened automatically, without her consent. Yet, she didn't loosen it either.

When he said he wanted to invite her over to his house, she thought it also meant a night of cuddling or something. At least being close to him.

Suddenly, his breaths tickled her neck and her heartbeat sped up when his lips parted close to her ear. "Got that?"

"...got what?" Her hands almost tightened around her seat.

"My room is half decent. No one ever enters the guest room, so that's perfect," he said, his voice just above a whisper, for some reason. "With 'no one ever enters the guest room', I mean it's not decent, and with 'that's perfect', I mean that I want it to stay like that."

"So that means I will unfortunately have to spend the night in your room," she finished.

"Bingo." He moved away from her ear again. "On an air bed, of course."

"Yeah, sure. At least five feet away from you."

"Totally! And I won't look at you once."

"I'd rather sleep on the couch, though."

They looked at each other, and smiled, happy at least someone understood the sarcasm. Later, the movie started.

Sam's breathing got sucked away in the first half, partly because the movie was cool, partly because Minho rested his hand on her thigh.

But sometimes, she was thrilled and scared at once, so tightened her grip on his hand, which he chuckled at.

❤︎︎

"It's messy," he warned before unlocking the door. "I'm sorry—"

"Please, shut the hell up. Nicely asked." Sam gave him a smile.

Messy or tiny houses were the least thing she worried about when she met someone, especially if it was a kid or someone her age. Like, parents were the ones that had to take care of the houses. And not everyone had money, which was okay, and there were a lot of reasons for a house to be messy. No shame needed for it.

When Sam stepped in the house, still shaking her head at his nervousness, she noticed it wasn't even that bad. The size of the rooms would've been bigger if all the clothes and whatever was spread on the floor would vanish, but it didn't smell bad or anything, and that was kind of the only priority she had.

Minho's room was the cleanest of all, easily showing he was often in there.

His walls were painted in an even darker blue tint than Thomas's room. A few posters of basketballers hung on the wall, and she saw multiple sport shoes in the corner.

His bed was between the size of a bed for one person, and for two, so that was perfect (they'd be forced to touch).

A carpet lay on his floor, a few school books and random stuff covering it. His closet had no doors, giving Sam sight of all the clothes.

Especially the compression shirts.

And his desk had some dressers in it. Pencils and pens lay on the white surface, along with— oh.

Once Minho's eyes followed hers, she could sense him tensing up. Quick and rough, the boy smashed the screw, three sharpeners where only one still contained a blade, and the two loose blades in a dresser.

An unwanted shiver went down her spine, and she hated herself for freezing like that. No words came out of her mouth.

"Sorry," Minho murmured. "I didn't realize— if I would've thought about—"

"It's okay," her voice cracked. "Really. But..." She took a step forward and opened the dresser to get the blades out. Minho stiffened. "If you're okay with it, I think it's best we throw them away," she said softly. "But only if you're ready."

"I still have ones in my dorm."

The fact he spoke the truth about that, was already a big step, and she nodded at him for it.

"I won't force you to throw those away. Just these is already great progress. And again, not to give you ideas, but I won't get angry if you buy new ones."

She wasn't sure if that had been something good to say. It felt like she was encouraging him to buy more. Or at least, let him know it would be 'okay' to buy more sharpeners. On the other side, she gave him the freedom to make his own choices and recover slowly, and in a... natural way.

But she wasn't an expert either. All she did was what she thought was right.

"Please throw them away." He nodded firmly, but the tension was still in his eyes.

Sam opened his fist. "You do it. I think that's better."

Proud, she watched him throw the things out of the window. When he turned back around, she hugged him.

"I'm proud," she reminded him. "I'm very proud of you."

He seemed to become less stiff already. "Thank you, Sammy."

She smiled as she let go. "You're welcome."

Minho took a few breaths to steady himself. "Do you want to eat something? Drink?"

"No, thanks." She sat down on his bed.

"Get ready for bed?"

A nod. "Sure."

"Alright." He already pulled her off the bed by taking her hand, which fit perfectly in his larger one. "I'm sure we've got a clean toothbrush somewhere."

They entered the bathroom. There was a shower cabin in the corner, a not so small sink on the left, and a toilet next to it.

Minho looked for a toothbrush and some clothes for her to wear at night, because she had asked Jeff to bring her clothes to Thomas's already; she hadn't expected to sleep there tonight.

"Here." He lay his sweatpants and a sweater down on the closed toilet seat. "And this toothbrush comes fresh out of the package. My mom has a hairbrush and all her... things in here." He pointed at a dresser below the sink.

Sam smiled brightly at him, her stomach fluttering. "Thank you, Minho."

He nodded, then frowned. "The store's still open. I understand that if you're on your period, you don't feel comfortable using my mom's—"

"I'm not on my period, don't worry," she assured. Her smile widened at his kindness. "But thank you, still. You'll make me blush!"

He chuckled. "Of course I will. It's just... I'm so overwhelmingly handsome, not even speaking about my awareness of women things!"

She laughed, too. "Well, I won't deny a thing."

Once they stopped smiling, they brushed their teeth in silence, and Sam removed her makeup, then combed through her hair as Minho was... was doing... well, she actually wasn't sure what he was doing.

"Trying to get the gel out," he announced, attempting to hold the black locks under the sink.

"There's also a shower. Like, right behind you."

"Thanks for the new information, Sammy." He gave up on the sink by sighing and giving it a slap, which only caused him to wince. "But I don't want to make you wait for me because I have to take a shower that badly."

She bit her lip. Stared at the shower, then back at Minho, and blinked a few times. Her pulse fastened. "I mean, I've got gel in my hair too."

Immediately, he straightened his posture, clearing his throat. "Is that a 'we'll both have to wait for each other to finish showering' or a 'no one has to wait if we shower together'?

Her face got filled with heat. Obviously the second answer. "Well," she started, then stopped. "Just... well."

He turned the water on, then spun around with crossed arms. "It's whatever you're comfortable with," he decided.

"Well," she said again, noticing it was the word she often used when she was nervous, "I'm comfortable with showering together. Though, I hope you don't mind, I'd rather keep my undergarments on."

Papa T's advice, eh? Use of words.

"That's totally fine," Minho said softly. "I'll do that too."

She felt more flattered at that, than the idea of showering completely bare, and removed her shirt and pants. She'd done it in front of him before, come on.

Once she noticed he hesitated to remove his sweater, she hoped she made the right comment: "Muscles highly affect me, but I won't die because of them."

Obviously it wasn't the muscles he was hesitant about, but you know.

When he pulled his sweater off, she did nearly die, though.

Toned and sharp and strong. Veins running from his biceps to wrists. Visibly forming muscles on his stomach and certain lines on his chest.

He'd been working out for sure.

Sam blushed, and he had trouble averting his eyes from her body too.

Then, they got in the steaming hot shower. The comfort made Sam sigh out, and not once, she had the feeling she was showing Minho too much. Neither did she feel like she was showing too less, though. This was perfect.

"What?" She looked up at his grin.

"Your hair."

A sigh left Sam's mouth. "What about it?"

"It's suddenly way longer."

"Yeah, that usually happens when curls get wet. Your hair suddenly has less volume." She nearly rolled her eyes.

Minho gasped. "My hair always has volume!"

She smiled.

"And I didn't mean it like that. I love your hair. It looks so soft, especially after you brush it. And now, it still looks pretty."

"I look like an exploded potato in clothes after I brush it."

"No. Your hair looks fuzzy and you look awesome," he encouraged.

"If you think it's so soft and fuzzy," almost another roll of her eyes, "why don't you find out by washing it? Free scalp massage for me, adventures and physical touch for you."

He snickered. "Sure. I'll do it as I consider allowing you to touch my hair. You're very loved if I end up allowing you, just to let you know."

"I was already aware of that." She softly slapped him on the arm. "It's your big treasure."

"And you're my small one."

Cheesy.

"I'm five feet ten. That's not small, Minho."

"It's four inches smaller than me. Of course you're small!"

❤︎︎

He did end up allowing her to wash and condition his hair, which she enjoyed doing. Then, she buried herself in his clothes, which smelled so amazing she never wanted to take them off, and stepped straight into another dream when she lay down on his bed.

Minho crawled next to her, pulling the sheets on top of them. Three seconds later, he held her tightly against his torso, both his arms wrapped around her.

"Comfortable?"

"Cloud nine," she corrected, closing her eyes. "Good night, Minho."

A kiss on her ear, and then on her head, and then cheek. "Good night, Sammy."

❤︎︎

A/n: Praying no one is annoyed the shower scene or anything in this chapter wasn't sexual :)

I personally love the cheesy starts of relationships where they do things for the first time and make it awkward, and also take slow steps to things... hope I'm not the only one, aha

Just like I hope you enjoyed!!
- Vera ♡︎