It has turned dark outside, and we're sitting in silence.

Minho sneaked some crossword puzzles in, so I eventually accepted the one he handed me, and am making it because I have nothing else to do. Except I'm stuck.

At the first freaking word.

"What's another word for idiot? Six letters. Stupid can't fit, because then my answer to another one doesn't make sense."

He doesn't really look up. "Try Thomas."

My eyebrows furrow. "How could Thomas exist in a crossword puzzle–"

"Because I made it."

When I don't reply for a long time, he looks at me and pulls a face.

"What? I was bored."

I turn back to the puzzle without a word. After filling my friend's name in, I look at the next word again. It's 'pretty cool', and now has to start with an s, after the Thomas thing.

I try Sonya, and it fits. I skip 'hot' for a second, because knowing Minho, it could be many people. Even himself.

But the word above it has to be a creative person. My mind goes to Lyndon, but I can't think of a person who's hot and whose second letter is an y.

(A/N: Dylan O'Brien, duh)

Teresa is creative. That means the second letter of a five-letter word is an e. My name has five letters, and the second one is an e. Possible, but in what world would Minho ever admit of finding me nice-looking?

"The creative person is Lyndon," Minho hints. He must've seen me struggling.

"And which hot person's second letter is an y?"

He frowns. "What?"

"Did you seriously make this without thinking of the answer?"

"No." Shaking his head, he gets up. Takes the pen and puzzle from me and fills the two words in.

m
L i n d o n n
n
h
o

When he hands it back to me, I stare at him. "In what universe is Lyndon written like that?"

He looks genuinely confused. "How is it written?"

I palm my face. No wonder I was struggling. "L, y, n, d, o, n," I spell.

"Ohh." Realization hits him, as well as shame. "I didn't know."

"You couldn't have known," I assure quickly, then get back to the puzzle. Now that I know how it works, I've finished it quite fast, and my face is bright red when I give it back to him.

"Thought I was the one you gave the word 'annoying', but it ended up being Gally," I say awkwardly. "Or I've got it wrong."

He inspects the paper for a while. "Nope. A plus for Blake."

And he hands me it back. I stuff it in my pocket before my face gets even redder.

Teresa got the word smart. Gally annoying. Harriet nice. Thomas idiot. Lyndon creative. Sonya cool.

Frypan got cook. Newt gay (didn't expect anything else from Minho). Winston friendly.

I got pretty.

I sit back down on the bed and watch him finish his puzzle, still on the chair. "Forgive me yet?" he wonders.

"Don't remind me. I'll hate you again."

Minho looks up. "So you don't hate me right now."

"Until you do the next stupid thing, yeah."

To my surprise, the corners of his mouth curve up, and— jeez, he has dimples. I mean, I've seen him laugh before, but I keep getting reminded of those dimples and the way his eyes squint.

"Anyway. We're gonna pull an all-nighter?"

He shrugs. "I guess. Except I spent quite some time getting here yesterday, asking for you again, then returning, and being kept awake by the other boys in my hut."

I slowly get off the bed. A part of me would find it lovely to let him suffer on that chair, but I'll spare him. "Alright."

"You didn't spend an all-nighter yesterday already? Going out or something."

"I was here the whole time, as I said."

I was in another boy's bed. But he doesn't have to know.

"Alright." He plops down on the bed as I sit down on the chair. Discomfort hits me immediately. And from what I guess, Lyndon let Noelle in the bed and probably spent the whole night on the chair.

Sometimes he's too kind to the wrong people.

"Hand me the crossword puzzle. I wanna make another one on the back. Not tired yet."

My eyes narrow. "So you made me get off the bed for nothing."

He points at the space that he's not occupying. "Not exactly. Just hand it to me."

With a sigh, I reach inside my pocket, grab the folded paper, and hand it to him. He opens it, something falls out, and lands on the sheets.

Before I even realize what it is, he has already read it.

Eli's number. Awesome.

He looks up. Raises his eyebrows. "Didn't sneak out, hm? Really not a boy's clothes?"

"They were still sitting in my shorts from back home. Because as I said a million times, these are mine."

"Then who's Eli?"

"A friend."

"Friend," he repeats, looking back down at the note. "Because friends really write down their numbers with double x's."

"Yes," I say.

"And you kept it in your pocket the whole time. Didn't put your shorts in the washing machine or anything."

I'm not sure what to say now. "Maybe I put it in my pocket later on."

"Yeah, sure."

"No need to snap," I snap back just as hard. "It's none of your business."

"I didn't ask anything else than who he is, did I?"

I tense. Here we go again. "Yeah. And I replied. So let's leave it alone."

I'm not ashamed of Eli, but a one night stand is slightly embarrassing.

"Sure." He puts the crossword puzzles down on the ground, along with my note.

"Give that back."

"Get it yourself. I'm going to sleep."

Scowling, I rip the note off the floor and put it back in my pocket. "See? Now you're being annoying again. What did I do to you?"

Without a reply, he scowls back at me, then covers himself under the sheets, back turned to me.

It only makes my jaw tighter. "I thought you said boys have one fight and then quickly make it up."

"Not both of us are boys."

"So what? I'm the problem? You're the one with these crazy mood switches."

"Good night."

"Fuck you."

"Good night."

I cross my arms, now too pissed to even be tired in the slightest. The urge to just grab the key and escape is big, but after all this arguing with Minho, and lying to him, it would be for nothing.

Tomorrow, I'm going to call Dad. I'm gonna tell him that it's stupid here. Some of the instructors, Noelle, Minho's behavior, this hut. And I'll go back home, get a job, pay my debts before anyone gets in danger, and then become a lawyer. No more going out and one night stands.

Okay, none of that is probably going to happen. It's my delusional past midnight. I'd be lame to call Dad.

I do want to go home for at least a weekend. I'm starting to miss my own bed and being alone in a comfortable place, instead of either being alone in an uncomfortable hut or being surrounded by screaming kids.

Maybe Lyndon will come with me, but I doubt he'd want to leave Newt at this point. No, I think he'd actually invite Newt over. I wouldn't have any problems with it, though. Newt's nice and not annoying. Doesn't bug me like the idiot a few feet away from me does.

I'm hating him all over again. I hate how he acts. How good he is at sports.

I hate his dimples. His confidence. I hate his loud presence. I hate how we got high and cuddled. How he kept pushing me underwater. I hate how I pressed him against a tree so we wouldn't get caught sneaking away. I hate how we went to the store and how he paid. Us watching movies.

I guess I hate that he makes me feel.

☀︎︎

Just when I'm almost asleep, I catch a movement of him. It's the first movement he has made ever since he turned around. I've never seen anyone sleep that still. I doubt he even was asleep.

"You can take it by now," he announces, getting out of the bed.

"So now you feel guilty," I blurt out.

"I'm offering it. Your decision whether you accept or not."

Not gonna decline. I've gotten tired by the time. Though he has lain there for multiple hours and the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him makes me feel weird.

"Thanks," I mumble as I take my shoes off. "Any idea what time it is?"

"I guess like two AM. Why? Need an exact amount of beauty sleep?"

I roll my eyes, even though he can't see that in the darkness, and lie down on the mattress. It for sure isn't the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in, but it'll do. I take my almost dry clothes out of my pocket and lie them down on the ground before they'll start rotting in my pocket or something.

The blanket itches my bare arms. It's thin. And nights in a warmer place are always cold. I've noticed that, even in our warmed-up hut.

"You owe me now," he suddenly says.

I should have expected that.

"No, I don't. You offered the bed."

"Exactly. You owe me."

"Take the bed back," I say. Whatever Minho would want me to do can't be very fun.

"No." I can hear the grin. "You can enjoy it for tonight."

I jump off it. "If I get out now, I don't owe you at all. You can take it."

"That's so kind! But unfortunately I'll have to decline. Manners. Gentleman things."

"You're not a gentleman, Lee. And if I get off it now, you don't owe me anything at all."

"Okay, you've got a point, but—"

I sit down against the wall, biting my lip at the uncomfortable hardness. How stupid that I am doing this just so I don't owe him.

"I was kidding. Take the bed. Don't make Lyndon hate me even more than he already does."

I scoff. "Lyndon doesn't hate you. Sure he finds you an interesting thing, but he doesn't hate you."

"Interesting thing," he repeats, as if the words are poison on his tongue. "Is that meant offensively?"

"Yes."

"Okay. If you're gonna play it like that, fine. I'll take the bed. No manners here."

"I really don't care."

"Okay, such a badass, whatever." He climbs back into the bed, and then we're silent again.

I cross my arms over my chest, pulling my knees up. Once the goosebumps on my bare legs start, I wrap my arms around them, and wait for the time to pass. It's killing.

I'll never be able to fall asleep. Neither on the ground or the chair. So this is gonna be another all-nighter. On a cold floor. Awesome.

☀︎

The longer I've been sitting here, the colder it has gotten. I'm shivering. My teeth are fucking clattering, though my body already starts doing that the second it gets a bit cold. So no drama, except I really am cold.

Rather this than—

"I can't sleep with your teeth clattering and your heavy breaths," he announces. I want to argue that he shouldn't be dramatic, but he, surprisingly, continues. "So get the bed. I promise you don't owe me." A pause. "I'd almost start to feel bad for you if it keeps going like this," he quickly adds.

The bed does sound good, even though it's more like a cot and squeaks every time you move, and the blanket is itchy. Better than the coldness. "You sure?"

"My muscles will keep me warm. 'Cause it's such a mass, remember?" he teases.

I roll my eyes, but can't help a laugh. "Fine, then. But hey, are you saying I don't have muscles?"

"All I can say is that no one can beat my muscles."

I shake my head. Scoff before I crawl under the sheets of the bed. Warmth hits me immediately, and I let out a relieved sigh. In a few minutes, my shivers will be gone and I might catch a few hours of sleep after all.

Except the warmth is soon off the blanket. Must've been Minho's body that gave it heat. Well, whatever it was, it's gone, and the itchiness and thin features of the blanket hit me again. I crawl up in a ball, wrap my arms around my own body, and bury my face in the bury, but it doesn't really help.

"Still cold?" he asks from the chair.

I give a nod. "Yeah, to be honest. But there isn't a lot of ways to fix that."

"My amazing muscles."

"Absolutely not."

"It would help."

"So basically you're saying you wouldn't mind," I state.

"I've said you're pretty too, haven't I?" He shrugs.

"And you're just randomly admitting all this."

"I'm sure I'm not the first one."

"True. But we hate each other."

"We hate-like each other."

"As long as you don't do stupid things, yeah."

"See? We can both share the bed, only for tonight. Only so we're both comfortable and not totally exhausted when we leave this place."

I squint an eye at him. "You wouldn't. If I agree, you're gonna get a whole confidence boost and are gonna act like I have other reasons of joining you."

"Not true."

My eyebrows raise.

"I bet you're just scared or ashamed."

"Of what?"

"Anything."

"And I bet you don't mean any of this," I shoot back.

"I bet you won't do this. Lame."

My back straightens at that. "And I bet you won't either."

He gets up. "Alright. Bet."

I scoot aside, making place for him on the bed. Nervous feelings make my stomach twist. No way he's actually doing it— but yep. Of course Minho would rather die than lose a bet.

"What are we even betting on?"

"I'm sure the honor of winning is already enough for you," he says.

"For you, maybe. Not for me. I'm not gonna share a bed with you unless I get something good for it."

"A warm night of good sleep?"

I shake my head. "I doubt that's what I'm gonna get with you next to me."

"Ah, too bad. But with my arms wrapped around you, you'll for sure get a warm night of good sleep."

I give him a glare. "Not really. So tell me, what are we betting for?"

"If I make it through the night in this bed with you, I get to know who Eli really is," he begins. "If I end up leaving, I lose and you win. And the other way around. So if you go, I win and you lose. Deal?"

"And what do I get?"

"Well, what do you want?"

Money, but that would be crazy to ask compared to his request... which, by the way, is weird.

Yet I end up saying it, "Money."

"How much?"

"Twelve dollars."

He sighs. "Okay."

"No arguing on how unfair it is that I want money and you just want to know who someone is?"

I don't like the idea of him knowing who Eli is, but alright. Maybe I can change his mind.

"Nope. My desire to know who he is is big, Blake."

"Okay. Fine." I sigh. "Bet is on."

Slowly, I lie down for a third time. Minho does the same. With the size of the cot, our shoulders are forced to touch.

"Okay, this is less comfortable than I thought it would be."

"No shit," I reply, eyes on the ceiling.

"Turn on your side," he says. "You're still freezing."

"I'm not."

I feel his hand on my arm and shiver at the touch. His hand is warm. He grips my arm harder than necessary to just feel my temperature, but I can't get myself to comment on it. "Yeah, you are, Lelia. This blanket is worth nothing."

Fuck. I've never heard him pronounce my name, but it sounds good. Too good for my brain's liking.

"Turn to your side," he repeats again. Not stern or demanding or anything that makes me feel forced, yet I end up doing it. And I mentally hit myself for it. But I do it.

I feel his arms wrap around me from behind. It's crazy how fast my body heats up, but that could be more than just the temperature of his body. I take a breath, chest heavy. I fell asleep in Eli's arms, and have fallen asleep in other people's arms, but that didn't exactly feel the same.

"That okay?"

"My face is still cold," I blurt out. It is the truth, though. He is touching my legs with his, his torso with my back, and his arms are warming my torso up even more.

I had expected him to laugh, but he doesn't. Not really, apart from the amusement in his voice. "Then you turn around."

Again, my movements are slow as I do what he says. His arms stay around me, and they pull me closer to him, so I'm able to lie my head against his chest.

I hate to admit that it might be a warm good night of sleep after all.

"Have already decided if you're gonna lose this bet?"

"Hm. No," I say, voice low because I automatically start talking quieter when it's silent. "Your body carries an intriguing warmth."

"Told you."

Another small chuckle slips. "Whatever. Sleep well."

"Night, Lelia."

☀︎︎

A/n: Damnnn.

Anyway, don't feel forced, but I've written down some questions below purely because I want to know what y'all think so far, and maybe need some inspiration to make fanfic edits on TikTok :)

❥ What song would you give Lyndon and Newt?

❥ What song would you give Lelia and Minho?

❥ What ship name for Lyndon and Newt?

❥ What ship name for Lelia and Minho?

❥ Do you prefer any POV over the other one?

❥ Fav chapter so far?

❥ What friendship would you like more of??

(Kinda need some Minho and Lyndon maybe..? Newt and Lelia were great. Do we want Gally to play a bigger role?)

I guess that was it?? Thank you so much for reading!! x

Have a good day/night <3