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ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ
ᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴇᴄᴜʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ ғᴏᴏᴛsᴛᴇᴘs
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"Aren't they super cute or what?"
"Calm down, Kina. You'll wake them up."
"Can we eat their food?"
"Jisung, that is not how I raised you."
"Hyung, I know you're still salty that I said I like Chenle better. But food is survival."
"Guys, sit down. Listen, listen-"
"I could blackmail Haechan with this kind of photo."
"Renjun-hyung, send it to me too. I'll put it in the yearbook and make a spoiler."
"Chenle, you're gonna get a scolding. Again. You can't just spoil the yearbook."
"Worth it-"
"Guys! Sit down and be quiet!"
With all the distinctive muttering arouses you to stir in your well deserved nap. Shaking into a more conscious state of mind, you open your eyes, revealing your pretty pupils. "Is the food here yet?"
Kina snickers, catching your gaze first. "You wake up from your nap on Haechan and the first thing on your mind is food?" she questions rhetorically, musing about your priorities. "You never change, y/n."
You wince when you see a bright flash go off. "Hey, Chenle." You breathe tiredly. "I will smash your beloved piano to pieces if you don't delete those pictures in 5 seconds."
The light causes Haechan to rouse from his light nap too. "Why are you guys always arguing? I swear I'll go deaf before I even reach 30."
Jaemin buzzes in mirth. "Sorry to wake the sleeping beauty and the beast—but your food's here and everyone's staring."
His statement causes you to tense up, indeed do you feel most of the customers' eyes on you and Haechan. Uncharacteristically (which is happening more often than you're suspecting from him), Haechan rubs comforting circles onto your already intertwined hands. Briskly, in the most punctual speed you've ever seen, you remove yourself from the crook of his neck. (Somehow, you've managed to land yourself in a pretty sticky situation once more.)
But just as you're about to pull your palm away from his, his hold tightens lightly. Enough to enforce the reassurance that he absolutely wants your hand in his. The action, of course, effectuating a surging swarm of butterflies to quiver within you.
Boycotting the redness erupting across your cheeks, you keep your hands in place and reach to start eating.
Good thing our hands are hidden beneath the table. Your thoughts can only herd hectically. You don't even dare take a glance at the culprit who causes your flushed cheeks, beating heart, and overthinking. Not even a chance.
So hand in hand, you continue your meals with group laughter—everyone being oblivious to the enclasped hands under the table (of two enemies who are possibly finally allowing their intense and resilient feelings to meet at one imperial perihelion). Once in a blue moon, under an eclipse, will two hearts align.
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