༄ THE ride back home was somehow less but more awkward than she expected.

Neither of them really talked about the kiss, or the fact that they both knew it hadn't been fake at all. Because Sam wasn't gonna play the dumb, clueless main character that was so awfully oblivious to the world.

He wouldn't just have kissed her for the fake dating thing. If that had been the reason, he would've done it in front of their friends.

She clasped her hands around his torso again. The wind was something she still didn't enjoy with the motorcycle, just like going downhill.

One part of her mind was thinking about their kiss. God, she got butterflies when she thought about it again. Everything got tingly in her body.

Another part was making up ideas to help Minho and his issues with hurting himself. He already seemed to do better, but now, they would go back to school with a principal that didn't support him. But, Newt knew too, and he slept in the dorm next to Minho's.

Either way, Sam was ready to do anything to help him.

Another part kept going back to how he spoke about there was more and his fight with Stan Hart. He had said things. Things that caused Minho to push him... but Stan was also a friend of Alby's? Hm.

She tried to shake the thoughts off for a while, and focused on the landscape. It was starting to get more recognizable and crowded, which meant they were getting closer and closer in town.

Sam would spent the last few days home, with her parents and Jeff, though that boy had plenty of plans made already. She'd bake some things, read, maybe meet up with people. She'd see.

"There we are." Even with the knowledge she was able to do it herself, he easily lifted her off the motorcycle by the waist. More damn explosions in her stomach. God, Minho.

She smiled after she took her helmet off, and admired his redder face and messy hair from the ride. "What?" His lips curved into a smile too.

"Nothing." She blushed. What two weeks of holidays and sharing a room could do, jeez. "Hey, you wanna come inside? I need to give this suit back to you anyway, and it was a long ride. I'm sure we've got some drinks."

"Sure." He nodded. "But if you happen to have space left, keep the suit."

She looked up as they walked to the front door. "Why? You bought it."

"It's for females... and I'm not planning to use that suit for any other female than you." He crooked a grin.

Her face got heated again. Laughing, she opened the door. "I don't think anyone is home yet. The bathroom's free for you to change in."

Nodding, he moved up the stairs before her, and they both disappeared behind different doors. Sam sighed when the heavy suit was released off her body and sat down on her bed.

What were they now? It confused her. If they were actually dating, they'd for sure mentioned that. So they were in the... middle stage?

Whatever, she'd talk to him about it later.

"Hey— Sammy?" His voice outside the door. His fist hit the wood softly. "I— uh... I hate to ask this but I didn't wear a sweater under my suit and I wasn't able to bring bracelets or anything either." A pause. "And I really don't want to go out with bare arms."

She opened the door with a smile. "I got you. Let's see..." Her eyes and hands searched through her closet, looking for a sweater that was too big for her and he would be able to fit.

"Maybe Jeff—"

"Jeff has horrible taste in clothes. I might rip our contract if you show up in his."

"And you have... girly clothes."

"This one isn't too girly." She held up a dark blue, plain sweater. "Try it on."

He didn't seem very hesitant when he pulled off his shirt and ugh— the muscles. She sat down on her bed before her legs gave up, and pretended she didn't peek.

"Hm." He moved around a bit. "I might actually keep it, Sammy. Thank you."

She chuckled. "You're welcome."

The silence didn't last extremely long. Her eyes softened at him. She motioned for him to sit down next to her, which he obeyed to.

"Alright. Would you be okay with me checking your wrist quickly? To make sure there's no infections?"

He nodded.

Carefully, Sam slipped the sleeve of her sweater up. The cuts that had been fresh were now turning smaller, and didn't bleed anymore.

"That's awesome." She smiled. Her heart warmed up. "And remember, if you ever get the urge to do something... just contact me and I'll help."

He nodded, understanding, but his eyebrows had a slight furrow in them. "I just... when I'm close to grabbing the blade, it just feels like I loose my senses. So imagine you have to help when it gets that far again. How can you help?"

"That depends. I'll figure it out on the moment. So I hope I never have to figure it out." She straightened her back. "It's harder than most people imagine, isn't it? To stop?"

Slowly, he nodded another time. "At some point, it becomes such a habit—addiction—that it turns just as normal as eating, or taking bathroom breaks," he explained, his voice low. "In the beginning, I only did it when I felt bad. Then, I did it more often and often. I've tried to stop. Sometimes, it worked for a while, but then I always ended up with the same habits. Now it's like... almost part of my night routine."

Her heart was peeling its own skin off as she listened. "But in these two weeks, you've barely done it. That's amazing, Minho. And not to bring you on any ideas, but if you happen to hurt yourself again, Newt and I won't be angry at all. As long as you talk to us and clean up well, everything will be okay."

He pressed his forehead to hers before wrapping his arms around the girl. "Okay. I will try. Really, try. Also with my grades."

"Good." She smiled softly. "I'm proud."

"You've said that."

A chuckle. "I won't stop telling you until you tell me it's annoying you. Is it annoying you?"

"Not at all. It's nice to have someone who's proud of me."

Sam met his eyes for a few seconds. Her hands stopped fidgeting with the sheets of her bed. "There's so more people proud of you," she said quietly. "The basketball team, your friends, and I know my father is too, even though he barely knows you."

Minho's smile brightened. "I'm glad I left an okay impression ."

"You left an amazing impression! He literally asked me when you were visiting again. He did that every single weekend!" Sam laughed so brightly Minho's eyes started to twinkle.

"Samira?" A knock on the door. Minho hid his wrists so fast, that it was immediate proof to how many times he had done that before.

Sam's head snapped toward the door. "Yeah, mom?"

"Can I come in?"

She exhaled. "Minho's here, but sure. For a little bit."

The door opened and her mother stepped in with the same tight bun in her dark hair. "Minho, hi." She glared at him.

"Hey, ma'am." He nodded, polite and gentle, which Sam smiled at.

"We're about to eat dinner," her mother hinted. The tone was a 'so you better make that boy leave my house' tone.

"Okay. Do you want to—"

Minho didn't let Sam finish. "You go catch up with your family by yourself. If you don't mind."

Her mother nodded in satisfaction, after her eyes lingered on Sam's sweater for a while. The one Minho wore. "I agree with that."

"Okay. I'll walk him outside, then I'll be there." The two of them got up and walked past her mother.

"Happy new year, by the way." Minho added, attempting a brighter smile at Edith. Then, he frowned and stopped on the middle of the stairs. "Sammy?"

She turned around. "Minho?"

"I have to put my suit on again." He groaned. "Why did I remove my suit just to put it on again?"

"Maybe I just wanted you to take my clothes." A small grin played on her face. Perfect plan, hadn't it been?

They arrived outside after Minho put his suit on again. He hugged Sam, and after he told her her father was watching, gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"Be careful," she warned.

"And don't die. Yep, got it. You too, Sammy."