The room is cold, the rain outside only making it worse. Minho lies next to you, eyes half-lidded as the silence stretches between you. After a moment, the chill in the air finally gets to you, and a frustrated sigh leaves your lips.

"Give me your hoodie," you demand, voice soft but insistent. Minho rolls his eyes, clearly irritated, but he doesn’t hesitate to toss it your way. Without another word, you slip it on, the warmth instantly comforting, but you don’t stop there.

Your fingers scroll through your phone, trying to distract yourself from the growing tension in the room.

But then, out of nowhere, Minho’s arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him with a force that takes you by surprise. He presses his body against yours, his head falling against your chest.

"I gave you my hoodie," he mutters, his voice low and a little too smug for your liking. "Now I’m cold, so bear with it."

His words are followed by his breath warming your skin, and as his grip tightens, a jolt of something unexpected surges through you.

The air between you both thickens, and suddenly, the situation feels anything but casual.