༺ TWENTY - FIVE ༻

There's been made a group chat on Snapchat after our bowling night, and I immediately know there's gonna be drama.

The Bowlers

MinHo(t)
Well that's an original name, Tes. Applause!!

Teresa <3
Shut up. You spent nights finding a way to include brackets in your username, just for that.

MinHo(t)
At least my user isn't Teresa_Agnes
You're so good at these beautiful, barely obvious names!

Teresa is in my contacts as Teresa <3 because I already had her in my contacts, and Minho did indeed find a way to make his username that.

NotAristotle
Wouldya quit spamming my phone by these useless messages?

T <3
Yeah, Teresa and Minho. Shut up

Teresa <3
You shut up

MinHo(t)
Scary

Teresa <3
Yk what I heard??

MinHo(t)
The fan girls screaming below my window last night?

Teresa <3
No, that you're either good at bowling or good in bed.

*T <3 left the groupchat*

MinhoHo(t)
You're not funny
Idiot
And that's not true
At all
Leave this group
I'm kicking you out

*You added T <3 to the groupchat*

T <3
I'm not starting this war
Leave me out
I wasn't even that good!!
Also, I'm busy so don't spam
Minho, I'll see ya soon

You
Lovely how defensive you two are getting

MinHo(t)
Let me live in peace please
Imma add Winston and Fry
Emotional support

*MinHo(t) added WinnieThePooh and FryingPan to the groupchat*

I get a call for dinner, so there I go. Newt clearly isn't on his phone right now, which he barely is. He only plays video games when Thomas is here. Other than that, I don't think he touches much electronics.

Once I'm downstairs, I nearly choke on air and are close to dropping my phone.

Newt could've mentioned he had Thomas over.

Mostly because I look like crap right now. Undone hair, no makeup at all, very oversized clothes. And not in a cute, messy bun type of way.

"Eh—" I try to act normal while walking past him. "Hi, Thomas. That's a... surprise."

His face lights up. It's not very obvious, but I can see it. "Hey."

Then I sit down at the dinner table. Exhaustion takes over me at the act. After ballet, my muscles were burning. I barely lasted dancing for ten minutes. Received some weird glares when I called for another break. And at home, I refused to sit down because I felt like I would no longer be able to get up, and now I realize that really might be the case.

Whatever. Thomas will keep my energy here.

We have steak, broccoli, and potatoes. Casual for a Monday. So I barely complain as I put some of it on my plate.

"Thomas is sleeping over," Newt announces.

Literally everyone found it too hard to tell me that, too?

I turn my head to the brunette next to me. Dad asks him if Thomas wants him to scoot an air bed into Newt's room, or if he wants to take the guest room.

Guest room guest room guest room guest room guest room guest room guest room...

I hope he might get the sign telepathically.

"I don't really mind," Thomas says, looking at Newt. "What do you prefer?"

"We can ask Minho what he wants," Newt insists. Thomas nods in agreement, while I frown.

"Minho's also staying?"

"He'll be here after dinner."

Oh, well.

If Minho would just sleep in Newt's room, and Thomas in the guest room, and I happen to end up in the guest room instead of bathroom once it's midnight... then that's very unfortunate.

"Perhaps you could invite Teresa over someday," Thomas suggests. He gives me a small smile, eyes twinkling.

"I will. Sometime."

❤︎︎

I have to admit that things were boring until Minho entered the house.

If only Thomas and I weren't secretly dating. When will we share it? I don't know. It's bearable so far, but still.

I'm not fully aware of Minho's presence at first, though, because I'm busy taking my laxatives. I ate dinner, like I always do on Tuesdays. My stomach is full with the portion I had. The ache in my head is slowly easing. It's all okay.

I decide not to lock myself up and go downstairs, my hair now done so I look a little decent. Thomas is trying to convince Newt to play a game in which one crawls into a sleeping bag, and that one has to catch the others while he can't see.

I mean... it's entertaining to watch him suggest a kid's game with big eyes and a giant smile?

"You really want me to suffocate?" Minho jumps onto the couch, his hands on the back of his head. "Oh hi, Frenzy!"

I nod at them. "Hey. What's up?"

"A-ha!" Thomas bounces up and takes my arm. "Rose will join my game for sure! Right, Blondie? Please? I don't want to play video games all the time."

"Aren't you afraid you'll bump into something if you're in the sleeping bag?" I ask, frowning.

"Nope." He grabs the sleeping bag. "I'll start."

"This is bloody ridiculous," Newt says as Thomas buried himself inside the bag.

"Can you breathe?" My frown deepens. "Don't fall!"

Minho gives me a look. His eyebrows are raised. And when Newt doesn't pay attention for a second: "A little protective, hm?"

This boy— he always notices the little things. Thomas does too, but not in the way Minho does. Minho observes basically everything, and Thomas only observes the things he really wants to observe.

"We can just walk away right now and keep him busy," Minho suggests, whispering.

"No, that's sad," I reply quietly.

Newt gives up with a loud sigh, then pulls the sleeping bag off Thomas. "Tommy, stop it. Let's just bake or something."

"Shuck yes!" Minho's eyes widen. "My aunt had these really great mini cakes last time. Can we make those?"

Soon, Newt and Minho are searching for those ingredient as I give Thomas a questioning look. "Shuck?"

"My parents dislike it when I curse and so do Minho's, and my little cousin also doesn't like it when we curse so we kind of changed the words," he summarizes.

I lean closer, my eyebrows slowly rising. "And what about the I'm fucking jealous?"

A curve attaches to his lips. "No parents or Chuck there. Also, this is the first time I hear you curse! A real curse!"

"And the last time." I roll my eyes. "I hate cursing, most of the time. So unnecessary. Bloody just means damn. But I guess I'll stick with shuck, too."

His smile brightens, or it just turns into more of a grin. "And I fucking- oh, sorry, shucking love it."

Heat flows through my veins and makes me blush. "You do?"

"Hell yes." Thomas's hand brushes against mine. An electric shock explodes right there in my stomach. "Your accent is one of my favorite things in the world."

A chuckle leaves my mouth. "Thank you. You happen to be one of my favorite things."

Thomas peeks at Newt and Minho for a second. They're too busy looking through drawers to notice us taking steps away until we're out of sight, and then I'm pressed against the wall with Thomas's lips on mine.

Though this is fast and rough, I still freaking enjoy it. His hands are moving tenderly over my body, after all. They always do. It's like he only allows himself to kiss me roughly, not touch me like that.

Honestly, those thoughts make things even better.

But yet... "Thomas," I breathe, gulping for air. "One look from them and we're dead."

His lips apart from mine while he sighs. "I know. Will you at least bake with us?"

I glance at the flour, sugar, butter, and other things stacked on the counter. "They'll mind."

"Of course they won't!" Thomas softly pulls my arm. "Your mom's good at baking. I'm sure you gained some talent."

I scoff, shrugging. It's been a while since I baked. Like... a long while. "Okay, then."

Thomas is right. They don't mind at all. In fact, Minho almost rips my arm off when he pulls me into the kitchen. "What color decorations do you think we should use?"

I never thought I'd see Minho this excited over something like cakes.

"Pink," I say in full confidence. "But if you like—"

"Pink it will be," Newt decides. "If you and Thomas mix the sugar and butter, Minho and I will prepare the molds. We calculated amazingly. So if anyone can't hold back, don't be afraid to do a taste test. It won't matter because of the amount."

I don't complain about that task with Thomas. He melts the butter as I throw sugar in the bowl, then grab the mixer.

"I can't do this," he murmurs. One glare at the other two boys, then he's kissing me again.

"Thomas," I hiss. It takes something to hide how much I enjoy this, especially with the high risk. "Not here. Tonight—"

"Tonight, I have other things to do with you," he says. "We need to talk."

That's like... the scariest sentence ever.

The butterflies get replaced by flames of worry, bowling into more frowns and scrunches of my nose. "About what?"

"Don't worry about it." Thomas gives me a small smile. "You're not in trouble. I just have something to discuss."