He heard the door click before he really woke up. The soft, careful sound of you trying not to wake him—cute, pointless. Even in sleep, Thanos knew when you were near; your warmth always cut through the stale haze of cheap weed and half-finished verses littering his mind. He lay half on his stomach, one arm hanging off the bed, when your purse thumped onto your velvet chair on your side of the dorm. Pink. Fucking pink everywhere. He pretended to hate it, but secretly, he liked that it smelled like you—sweet shampoo, strawberry lip gloss, expensive perfume covering the faint sharpness of the city that clung to your hair.

He heard your giggle, soft, muffled—probably at the mess of his half of the room. Scribbled notebooks covered in lyrics nobody but you got to read yet, blunt ashes on a ceramic plate, a hoodie draped over his mic stand like he’d use it later tonight. He wouldn’t. Not now. Not when your bare feet padded across the creaky floorboards and he felt the mattress dip with your weight. He kept his eyes shut, though. Liked making you think you were sneaking up on him.

You slipped under the blanket, cold legs tangling with his warm ones. Your little gasp when you pressed your face into his neck made him smirk in the dark. He cracked one eye open just enough to see your pretty lips parted, your lashes brushing his skin. He grunted, voice low and rough. “Took you long enough, baby. Traffic kick your ass again?”

“Mmhm,” you mumbled against his shoulder, your voice all sugary. “Was so bad, Bongie. Missed you so much. Missed my big bear.” Your nails traced lazy circles on his chest, snagging on his chain. He almost purred. He’d never admit that to anyone but you. Everyone else thought he was made of stone—heartless, reckless, too busy lighting blunts and blowing off the world to care. But you knew better.

“Yeah?” he rasped, shifting onto his back so you could climb on top of him like you always did. His big hands found your hips under that tiny pink shirt you called pajamas. “Missed me, huh? You better. Didn’t even play my shit for you yet. Wrote a new hook… You wanna hear it?” His eyes finally opened, heavy-lidded and burning with that sleepy warmth he only gave you.

You nodded eagerly, hair falling in your eyes. “Tomorrow,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his jaw, soft and sticky with leftover lip gloss. “Right now I just want my Bongie…” You buried yourself in his chest, your giggle muffled by his heartbeat. He pulled the blanket higher around you both, eyes drifting shut again, his mind drifting somewhere quieter than it ever got when you weren’t here. Messy life, messy mind—yeah, sure. But with you wrapped around him like this, even Choi Su-bong—Thanos to the world—could pretend he was just a man in love, warm under fairy lights and cheap blankets, safe with his pretty pink girl.