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Hoseok hummed when he watched Chris turn over in her spot, eyes opening slowly. He could have sworn he felt his soul blaze just then. All his life he'd known he was the type of person to spread warmth, both consciously and not. But here he was, on the receiving end for once.
"Hoseok," she let out, voice laced with exhaustion as it fell an octave lower than usual. He closed his eyes at the sound, snuggling in closer to her and burying his head in her neck.
"Good morning, beautiful," he mumbled into her skin, feeling it reverberate through her body.
"Beautiful?" Chris snorted, "Hardly."
"Hey," he pulled back, a frown pulling his mouth down, "Don't say that."
"Hoseok, I'm kidding—"
"No, no, don't try to get out of this one, Chris," with his index finger under her chin, he lifted it so that they could lock eyes, "My beautiful girlfriend."
And he wasn't lying. It left him in awe when she woke up looking like that. When she woke up with her hair as autumn leaves playing in the day shine, despite it being the middle of summer. With her eyes, just the most beautiful pool of tea, and her stunning tan skin bronze with the sun spilling through the room.
"Stop calling me that," she mumbled, turning around in her spot.
"What? My girlfriend?" grinning, he lowered his arms to hug her waist as he flipped her back.
"You know what I meant," her voice was muffled as she hid in his chest.
"Hey," Hoseok softened his voice, even if he couldn't stop his eyes gleaming with mischief. Fond mischief, helplessly fond, but still. "Look at me, will you?"
Hoseok leaned into where Chris covered her face, flustered and shy compared to his own confidence.
In the space of two heartbeats, Hoseok pressed kisses to the backs of her hand, like he was dotting kisses across her face. Shyness turned to a different type of hiding, playful, as he continued to try and coax Chris to meet his gaze.
"Look at me," he whispered once more, and she finally did, tearing her hands from her face, "There she is!"
The grin he gifted her was blinding, Chris had to close an eye as if to protect it, "Thank you, sunshine," she rubbed her nose with his before pecking him on the lips, "I love you."
"I love you too, Chrisoula."
He never missed the opportunity to call her that, and she had to admit she loved hearing him say it. Especially in this space, in the delicate moments of silence before he would press a kiss to her hair, as he drew a heart against her bare back, after intertwining their fingers and playing with them against his chest. The name felt so fragile, so much more beautiful than she had ever fathomed before.
