You’re not sure what woke you up from your nap. It could’ve been the slight chill because of the AC, or it was the arms wrapped around you, holding you on a deathly grip, those arms belonging to none other than your boyfriend. Ah, yes, maybe that was it, your boyfriend, Jisung.
His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer, if it was even possible at this point. When he arrived you were unsure, as you had first fallen asleep alone, cuddling an old, but well loved, plushie to your chest. Your boyfriend now took it’s place, Mr. Bowtie, the name your 6-year-old self gave the plushie, somewhere across the room.
Jisung always had a one-sided beef with all of your plushies, it seemed; he’d grumble and glare at them whenever you’d hold them in your arms, complaining about how they would eventually replace him. You’d just pinch his cheeks and shower him with kisses, making him forget momentarily about the competitors for your heart.
You both had a habit of taking naps together, wrapped in each other’s embrace, nuzzled together under the piles of blankets, so waking up to him cuddled up to you was no surprise. His friends once teased him and said you were a ‘Jisung magnet’, wherever you were, he was nearby.
Wiggling around in his hold, you tried your best to shift positions to a more comfortable one. The movement being enough to wake your boyfriend up, as he groaned, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.
“You’re not getting up to get that old bear, are you?” He complained, voice laced with sleep. You couldn’t see his face, but you’re sure he was pouting.
“Do not talk about Mr. Bowtie like that.” You softly scolded, running your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.
“You love that bear more than me…” He whined, biting your neck playfully in retaliation, trapping you on his arms so that you could not run away from him.
“J-jisung…!” A high pitched giggle left your lips, hands flailing around as you tried to push his head away. In your struggle to get away from his nibbling, you end up hitting your head on his, making both of you groan in pain.
“It’s all your fault.” You murmured, holding your aching forehead.
“I blame it on the bear.”
“Stop picking on Mr. Bowtie, he can’t defend himself.”