night seventeen of midnight writings
the pad of hoseok’s thumb grazes over your knuckles, his eyes glued to the computer screen mere centimetres from his face. you sit beside him at his desk in the studio, however your attention is focused on your boyfriend. his other hand fiddles with his bottom lip, his brows furrowing every now and again. there is no sound in the room, but you feel very much content in the silence. you glance at the time displayed in the top corner of the desktop, stifling a yawn. it’s almost 1am and you know hoseok will have yet another busy day in a few hours. you rest your head gently on his shoulder, nuzzling your face in the scent of his shirt before looking up at him. “c’mon, hobi, let’s go home.” you whisper.
hoseok’s eyes dart from his current mixtape piece he’s been working on, to the time and he sighs. turning to you, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, “i kept you cooped up in here for so long, sorry y/n.” he squeezes your hand as he gets to his feet, “let’s go home.”
@acetrainermj bc that tweet wrecked the both of us