You and Minho have been together for over a year. Between busy schedules, dance practice, and the chaos of idol life, finding time together is rare.

Tonight, you’re at his apartment, both exhausted from the day’s practice. Minho collapses onto the couch, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a long sigh.

“Babe… I’m wrecked,” he murmurs, his voice rough from hours of singing and dancing. He looks over at you with tired eyes, the kind that melt your heart even when he’s completely worn out. “Could you… massage my shoulders? Please?”