༄ "I don't think anything was fake."

Her eyes widened fast. "...what?"

He ran a hand through his hair, taking a breath. "I don't think I really cared about my grades when I started fake dating you. Or suggested it."

Sam's body seemed to stop working for a second. Then, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest and her stomach made the most awful, yet somehow amazing twist.

"So..." She started, but wasn't sure how to continue.

Maybe she really was stuck in a romcom.

"—so I've liked you since the beginning, yes," he finished, running a nervous hand down his face. "I... well, I was half drunk in the club, yet I still couldn't stop thinking about that kiss the next days. Like, all your sass and how you looked just... intrigued me," he summarized, slowly. "When I recognized you at practice, and spat out my water, I felt even better. You bumped into me. I found the things you read genuinely funny, and liked your reaction. Then I kind of realized I wanted to know more about you, so didn't hesitate when I came up with the fake dating idea, after hearing your story."

She stared at him with a half open mouth, her eyes wide and cheeks red from... honor? Maybe. "Wow."

"Yeah, wow." He let out a nervous chuckle. "And the kiss at midnight wasn't fake in the slightest."

"It wasn't fake to me either," she finally managed to say, half whispering as she did. "I've been in denial and convincing myself I didn't like you, though I certainly do."

His smile brightened and turned more comfortable as he leaned closer, lying his hand on her knee. Sam looked down when he spoke. His lips moved. Colored, full, and kissable. Soft, which she knew from moments she'd love to experience again.

"I asked you something."
Reality snapped back once he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Breathless, "What did you ask?"

"If I could get the honor to kiss you again," he muttered, already leaning closer.

Sam nodded. She held her breath and only let go of it when sparks formed in her stomach, since he finally touched her lips. Slowly. Softly and carefully, as if they never kissed before.

She leaned closer, needier. Cupping his face, she straightened her back to reach him better and he gripped his hands around her waist, suddenly moving his lips too.

The fireworks that had been exploding outside the other night, were now exploding inside her body. They spread everywhere, and then caused a fiery speed up between their lips, in which Sam somehow ended up on his lap.

It was more comfortable like that, though. Otherwise, they would've kissed while sitting on their knees with an awkward amount of space between them and because this wasn't the first time they had kissed, it was no longer just a careful, quick peck.

Their breaths heaved; they let go. Minho's hands still held her waist and she had her fingers buried in his hair. For the first time, he didn't seem to mind someone touching it.

"So I guess the fake dating isn't so fake anymore now, is it?" Her words blew against his lips.

"I hope not," he murmured back.

She smiled. He did it back. Later, she ended up lying at his side, his arm wrapped around her as they watched the now forming stars.

"What's your love language?" She asked the millionth question that day. Honestly, she hadn't really been able to tell which of the five he did mostly so far.

"I think physical touch," he replied, and she was already happy with that. The fact he even knew what the five love languages were, was a green flag. "But I mean, it's got to be from the right person. I barely touch my friends. I will touch you a lot now we're dating."

"I wouldn't mind." Sam's face lit up.

"Expect me to make a deal later. You scratch my back as I scratch yours."

And she laughed at that. "Alright. I'll prepare for it."

"What's your love language?"

She hummed, having to consider it for a second. "Receiving gifts, I think. I love to make things or buy other people things. But most people I know don't often appreciate the things I make them. Except for Jeff and Dad. I haven't given my new friends anything yet."

"I'll appreciate anything," he promised, his eyes twinkling from the moonlight.

She had no idea what time it was, and she didn't give a shit. With Minho, she'd be safe. And for now she didn't care about what her mom would say either. Anything to spend time with him, now no one could stop her.

A few more questions.

"Is your biggest fear really snakes?" She looked up at him. Thought back about their conversation earlier, where he'd been very fast with his answer.

"No," Minho admitted. "It's..." he hesitated, "it's losing my loved ones, and losing control because of that."

Goosebumps formed on her arms. She snuck closer, wrapping her arm around his torso. "Mine's failure. I also fear losing a loved one, but it's not on my mind like being a failure. Though I guess now, I am kind of a failure."

"No, you're not," he whispered. His eyes met hers after he turned on his side. "You're... well, perfect. You're not a failure and grades really don't define you. If they did, you still wouldn't be a failure, though."

She smiled poorly. "Thank you, Minho." Then paused. "I should really come up with a nickname."

"Min?"

"Maybe. But it's a frequently used one." She was thoughtful, but couldn't come up with anything. "I'll think about it later."

There were a few seconds of silence. It wasn't awkward at all. Sam just inhaled his smell as she stared at the sky and Minho kept tightening his grip around her.

"Do you remember the guy from the game?" He suddenly wondered, and she could sense this was about to be serious.

"Yes," Sam confirmed. "Stan Hart, right? I saw him on Instagram."

He nodded. "Stan Hart it is."

"Do you want to tell me what he told you that day? You confirmed he said things you didn't like," she said softly, ready for him to refuse. If he did, that would be totally fine.

"He—" Minho stopped. He swallowed, and took a breath. "He threatened me."

"What?" She would've shot straight up if he hadn't been holding her so tightly. "He threatened you?"

Minho nodded. "He does it every game we have to play against them."

"But... but I saw a picture of him and Alby. Aren't they friends?"

"Their friendship is the reason he started threatening me," Minho muttered. "It's a long story. I don't want to worry you or—"

"Please tell me." She lay a hand on his arm. "I'd like to know. And maybe help."

He took another deep breath. "One day, I was chilling with Alby. Newt, Fry, Stan, and one of his teammates were there too. Nothing weird. Just some tension between Stan and I, because we just couldn't get along."

Sam listened attentively, reaching for his hand.

"He caught me... caught me cutting myself in the bathroom. At that point, he didn't say anything about it. I lived in fear, afraid he'd tell my friends, but he didn't." A pause. "The next time I saw him, we had a game. He said that if I— if I didn't let them win, he'd tell everyone about what he saw that day. He threatened he'd show everyone, including my friends, my wrists."

"Oh, Minho—" Sam gasped, her heart literally aching in her chest. There was so many crap he had been through alone, or was still struggling with... none of the things he deserved.

"I overheard his parents yelling at him after the game, when they lost after all. I figured out that was why he threatened me. He didn't want them to yell again. But to my luck, he didn't spill my secret, yet he went on with it every game. I did make sure we lost, because I was so goddamn afraid my friends would look at me as if I was a monster. But the guilt of making us lose, all lead to more cutting. More things for them to see me as a monster for."

She was speechless. For a while, she really wasn't sure what to say as she felt both sadness and anger run through her veins.

Family problems weren't an excuse to pointing someone's self-harming out at all. Just, no.

"You're not a monster, Minho," she started. "Your friends won't look at you like you are one. Stan Hart is just a lying, manipulative little baby who relies on someone else's problems to save himself. Please don't listen to him," she paused. "And I totally understand you don't want everyone to know about it. That's why we'll somehow, stop Stan without him sharing anything you don't want him to share, alright?"

Minho nodded, slowly. "You give nice speeches, Sammy."

She smiled. "I hope they help." And moved closer to him. "One last question, purely because I'm curious. As long as you're not uncomfortable, at least."

"Never am I uncomfortable with you," he said. "Let the question come."

"You know at our first PE thing together?" She rubbed her chin. "You seemed in pain when you left. But I don't understand. Why were you in pain?"

"Well." Minho sighed. "I got nervous from talking about how I quit swimming, and started sweating. My wristbands sucked that up and caused part of it to end up in fresh, uncovered cuts. And that hurt. Like, very badly," he explained. "Which is why I left."

Her heart broke even more at hearing that.

"But, how about we talk about the happier things?" He suggested before she could say anything. "I mean, you know pretty much everything about me now. So what's your guilty pleasure?"

She scoffed. "What do you think?"

A genuine laugh left his mouth. Butterflies formed in her stomach at it, and her heart warmed up. "Hm. Reading about people having the kinkiest sex?"

Her whole face turned bright red at the way he said that so casually. Luckily the darkness didn't show it off. "Yup. And yours?"

"The movie Grease." He chuckled. "It's a good one."

"It is, though." The whatever amount's smile formed on her face that day. "Wanna watch it together sometime?"

He laughed even brighter. She nearly squealed at the sounds "Of course."

"Oh, and we should totally watch The Amazing Spider-Man. It's so good!" Sam pointed out. "And do you want to have a Harry Potter marathon with my golden snitch brownies?"

He snickered. "I will. And I know I'll be forced anyway, if I don't."

"You got that." She placed a kiss on his cheek from both happiness and a sudden energy rush. "And in return, I'll backpack on your motor again. It's actually getting funner."

❤︎︎

A/n: Proof that not ALL my stories have a 40+ chapter slow burn :))

xx Vera