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"You," Jaemin announces, "work entirely too hard. You skipped movie night for homework!"
Jiwon looks up tiredly at him. "You do realize I'm working on a deadline here," she deadpans. "Tell me how you expect me to sacrifice three hours for a movie."
Jaemin frowns. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks, stepping back a bit, instead of leaning all of his weight on the side of her study desk, so as to give her some space, instead of crowding her. "You haven't really been responding very well tonight."
"I'm distracted," she gestures to the papers strewn across her desk, the scattered pens and pencils, eraser teetering on the corner of the desk—which he scoops up and safely returns to its respective spot beside her pencils—one lone paint palette resting beneath a box of acrylic paints also far too close to edge of it, so Jaemin pushes that farther up the desk, too. No paintbrushes, though he knows those are still at the top of her wardrobe, drying out after her impromptu painting session yesterday.
"Too distracted," he frowns, gently prying the pencil from her reddened-from-pressure fingers. "I get it too, you know, how hard it is to stop when the urge to do something about creativity blocks, hits you. I also want you to know that there's a limit to these things."
She huffs. "I can't help it if my stupid brain won't give me a proper idea," she says, sulking as she utters the words, though she most likely doesn't realize it. Jaemin thinks it's adorable. "I've been trying to get past the stupid art block, but none of my ideas are good enough."
She gestures to the angrily-torn out, balled-up pages of paper in the wastebasket beside her on the floor. Jaemin makes a mental note to take the better ones out of the pile, if only to tease her outwardly with it but actually keeping them for her future reference. As temperamental as Jiwon is, she tends to forget in her frustration at herself that her past supposedly-failed art serves as a good frame of reference for what she can do later down the line.
"That's because your brain is overworked," he scolds. "You've been at this since before I arrived, idiot. It doesn't take a genius to realize you need rest."
Jaemin had come over earlier to her dorm at her request to bring something to eat because she was "far too lazy to drag myself down ten flights of stairs right now," only to find that she was really immersed a tad bit too much to do more than bite into her food in between sketching on her drawing block. Being the caring boyfriend that he is, he hadn't discouraged her, just nagged at her to eat in a very annoying way until she gave in.
It's been almost four hours since then, though. Jaemin has almost finished a drama series by now. It's a lie to say he isn't concerned; of course he is, he loves Jiwon. He loves that she's so passionate about all of her interests, even if they fizzle out after a short period of hyperfixation, but that's one of her quirks.
Except for art. That one is lifelong, at this point. For all of the three years that he has known her, art has been practically the center of her life. Pencil lead smudged on her hands, just like it is now, streaks of an almost-non washable paint in a swirl of rainbow colors on her arms and hands, sometimes her face, too, which more often than not earned her a scolding from her parents and teachers.
But the bigger issue is that she's overworking herself at this point.
"But it's not even that late," she protests, looking at the clock. "It's only barely eight p.m..."
"I know, but you've been working this hard all day, and you're not getting anywhere."
"But if I try a little harder..."
"Jiwon," he says, firmer. Jiwon's stubborn, pleading expression falls into one of dejection. Once upon a time, Jaemin would've worried that he went too far and said something wrong, but now he knows that it's just her being upset at herself for going too far. Even if Jaemin doesn't necessarily agree with it, he's also aware that right now, the most important thing is destressing her cluttered, overloaded brain.
"Okay," she sighs out, standing up. She wobbles for a moment and she grabs at the desk to regain her balance, which immediately has Jaemin taking her arm, holding her up, recognizing it as a dizzy spell, a thing she experiences far too often from how she forgets to eat in the concentrated haze of making art. "Oh. Sorry, sorry, I'll eat something now..."
Jaemin has to smile at her somewhat ditzy expression. She has a weird way of laughing off even a few of the worst things that have happened to her, though he supposes that it's not so concerning when they already know that having her eat something would fix the dizziness very quickly.
"Want me to get you that apple you bought earlier?" he offers as they walk out into the living room of her dorm. She used to share it with someone else, who dropped out halfway through the year. Jaemin has been taking advantage of that to pop in on surprise visits to her during the day, and sometimes he's tempted to stay over for a night, but imagining how badly that could go keeps him from doing it.
"Yes, please," she mutters, throwing herself onto the couch. "I doubt I could handle anything else right now."
While she turns on the TV and flips through Netflix (before remembering that she has yet to finish 86's first season, to date), Jaemin heads to the kitchen to retrieve her apple for her. He often does this kind of thing for his friends and roommates, which earned him the moniker of "mom," but Jiwon is really the only person he truly gets satisfaction out of taking care of. Her, and his younger friends.
She's so absorbed into the screen that she startles when Jaemin sits beside her, handing her the plate of sliced apple. "You didn't have to do that," she notes, eyebrows lifted. Her gaze turns right back to the screen, which Jaemin takes no offense at. He is surprised that she continues talking. "I get that I messed up for myself, but I can eat an apple, you know."
"I don't think you can last the next episode without falling asleep," Jaemin smirks. She scoffs.
"You wanna bet?"
"I already know it. One-hundred-percent assured."
"Oh, you're on, Na Jaemin," she grins. Jaemin isn't quite sure whether it's from watching the young, teenage soldiers on screen interact with their miles-away commander, or his challenge, but either way, it's a cute smile.
"Bring it on, Kang Jiwon."
***
Contrary to expectation, Jiwon lasts until two episodes before the half-season finale, and then she turns to Jaemin and says, "I want to go to bed now. You should head back before it gets too late."
"I'll stay with you," Jaemin says nonchalantly. "My roommates are going to be out until really late."
"And?" she stares at him, eyes wide.
"I don't want to sleep alone," Jaemin answers, standing up. "Come on, Jiwon, it's not a big deal. I'm just going to sleep next to you. It's the weekend, too, so we're not going to have to go anywhere, right?"
"Well..." she hesitates, seeming to weigh between her choices. "I guess..."
"It's not mandatory," Jaemin clarifies, smoothing back the hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail away from her face, rather absently. "No pressure."
"No, I want you to stay," she decides, standing up and tugging him towards her bedroom, much, much more spacious since the roommate's stuff had been taken out of there. Jaemin internally second-guesses himself for a minute, but he talks himself out of it, reminding himself that they're technically not doing anything wrong (even if Renjun will have a neurotic fit when he finds out...well, he just won't).
He stands by the door, watching her arrange her messy bed—twisted, balled-up covers, both of the pale violet pillows she uses at two opposite ends of the bed, a few books scattered across the flower-patterns decorating her bedsheet—before she lets Jaemin near it. It's endearing to see how she frowns at herself for letting her space get so messy. He knows she usually makes a point to order everything and put it all in place before she sets foot outside of the dorm.
"Okay," she turns, exhales. "Come on. I'm beginning to feel dead on my feet."
Jaemin chuckles softly and joins her, watching her climb into her bed only for a second before he does the same, though somewhat awkwardly. It's...strange to be here, right now. Not to mention incredibly awkward. Before he can say something stupid, he says, "your bed is really soft."
Jiwon blinks at him, from where she's adjusting the covers over them. Jaemin doesn't object, since she's got the air-conditioning turned on at twenty-six degrees. "Uh. Yeah, my parents got this for my brother when he moved into the dorms but he disliked the way it's so soft, so we traded mattresses."
"Good call, I guess," Jaemin returns. A silence falls over them as Jiwon lies on her back snuggled under the comforter up to her chest, Jaemin sitting up leaning against the headboard with the comforter only covering his lower half.
Their eyes meet and they stare at each other for a full ten seconds before they burst out laughing.
"Jeez!" Jiwon wheezes, sitting up. "We're ridiculous, acting like a pair of teenagers on their first date!"
"Right," Jaemin snorts, pulling her closer the way he always does. "This is literally no different. We're a bit too nervous for just literally sleeping together, seriously."
Jiwon lets him essentially cuddle her. Jaemin doesn't look like it, but he is actually rather affectionate in many ways, and physical affection is one of his love languages. As such, Jiwon is the subject of quite a lot of hand-holding, random hugs, and just being affectionate in general. Jaemin is aware she doesn't mind at all, so he doesn't feel uneasy about doing things like that.
"I don't think I can fall asleep any time soon now," Jiwon admits softly, her voice just a whisper. With Jaemin's arm thrown loosely over her stomach, her head pillowed on his other arm, they're somehow in a closer position than they have ever been in before, but it's...comforting, to say the least.
"Shall I sing for you, then?" Jaemin purposely whispers in her ear. She shrieks in surprise and hits him.
"Jerk!"
Jaemin giggles, not releasing his grip on her. "Sorry, sorry!"
"Sure," she lightly pinches his arm, freezing a little bit when Jaemin starts running her hand through her short hair, a little bit longer than the absolute minimum required to tie a ponytail. She claimed it was for aesthetic reasons, though the bigger reason, he knows, is because she can't be bothered to take care of such long hair, practically waist-length, all the time. "What do you propose singing?"
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star—"
"God, no."
"Rockabye baby, on the treetop—"
"Na Jaemin!"
In response, Jaemin starts laughing, which sets off Jiwon, too. They devolve into laughing so hard, tears form in Jaemin's eyes. His own ridiculousness and how there's still a thin barrier of awkward tension that they have yet to break.
So, he hugs her closer, and says, "tell me something I didn't know about you."
"Huh?" He can't see her face, but he imagines her frowning in concentration. "There's a lot that you do know about me. As for what you don't know..."
"Anything is fine, really."
"Huh." this time, it's more of a contemplative sound. "Do you remember when your mother said that I would make a good teacher?" Jaemin does not, but he hums in response anyway. "I laughed it off back then, but did I ever tell you that when I was a kid, I really wanted to be a teacher?"
"Really?" Jaemin is surprised. "What kind of teacher?"
"I don't know. Kids don't think too deeply about those things, you know?"
"Why did you? Want to become a teacher, I mean. You've always said you don't have enough patience to handle a class of children."
"There was this teacher when I was in the first and second grades," Jiwon's voice is soft, almost sleepy; a very in-character thing, for her to get sleepy just as they start properly talking. "She was always very nice to me, never stopped me talking when I got going or had an idea. There was an autistic kid in our class, too, and she never treated him differently. In fact, he and I were the favorite kids. When I finished first grade, I actually cried about having to have a different teacher."
"Awh, that's so cute."
"I was seven," Jiwon says with an intentional sulky tone. "So, when my brother started the first grade in the same year I started the second, he got the same teacher. You know about his ADHD, so you know how difficult it can be..."
Jaemin does. When he first met Jiwon's brother, he was quite hyper and excitable, and understood lots of things differently than most of them did. According to her, he was like that but ten times more hyper in his childhood, and it didn't help that most adults in his life treated him like he was a bad kid.
"She was the greatest teacher he ever had," the smile in her voice is evident, blooming like a sunflower in the sun. Jaemin finds it beautiful that her pride in her family and loved ones take precedence over much else, much like how Jaemin puts his mother before everyone else. "He was her best friend by the end of the year, and what do you know, he cried, too. I mean, have you ever known him to cry about saying goodbye to someone?"
"Never," Jaemin finds the idea alien. But he knows her brother has feelings, too. "That was what made you decide?"
"Yeah. Until my mother, ever so practical," there's a teasing hint of fondness there, "convinced me that I would die penniless and stressed out because kids are hard work and teachers don't get paid enough."
"I mean, my mother survived?"
"She had a husband to support her. I was in my 'die a single woman' phase."
"Ah. That explains so much."
"Shut up," she laughs, hitting his arm. "I wasn't upset about it ever, actually. I was cycling through a lot of professions at the time, so it isn't too big of a disappointment that it took a day to get talked out of it without much effort. Even if I do think about it sometimes."
"Imagine me dating a teacher."
"Your mother would approve. Now tell me something about you."
"I never drink because my mother said she doesn't like to drink and would prefer it that I did not drink, either," Jaemin says the first thing that comes to mind. Jiwon snorts, clearly disbelieving. "I'm serious, I really don't like doing it! It tastes weird, too."
"Such a momma's boy," Jiwon teases, but her voice is slurred now, beginning to sound more sleepy and tired than anything.
"That is my pride, Jiwon," he says very seriously. He can't stop the yawn that escapes his mouth after he says it, though. "Now I'm sleepy."
"Then sleep," she mumbles, shifting so that her legs aren't twined together. "Good night."
When it's silent for almost a full minute, Jaemin realizes that she really isn't joking; she's actually fallen asleep. Her soft breathing is the only sound in the room now, aside from his own.
With a fond sigh, Jaemin closes his own heavy eyelids, still hugging Jiwon.