Wooyoung hated winter. He hated the way the snow clung to his boots, he hated the sharp bite of the wind against his cheeks, and the way the chill seemed to seep into his bones no matter how many layers he wore. But most of all, he hated how the snow piled up everywhere, forcing him to trudge through it like some kind of Arctic explorer.

As he stomped into your apartment, his cheeks flushed pink from the cold, he grumbled under his breath. “I swear, if I have to deal with one more snowflake—” His words cut off when he saw you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your shoulders, holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Wooyoung immediately launched himself into the couch, wrapping his arms around you, causing you to yelp.