Later that night, I sat cross-legged in the middle of my floor with my sketchbook in my lap. No matter how hard I tried to force it to, my pencil wouldn't move the way I wanted it to. My mind was a blank slate when it came to thinking of what I wanted to draw. For once, there was no inspiration that came to me.
A knock on my door made look up toward it. "Come in."
Minho's head popped in the door. He had a slight smile on his face, which started to falter after noticing my defeated expression. The door closed silently behind him after he slipped inside and then sat down beside me.
"Why does my pencil not want to move?" I questioned rhetorically, huffing so my bottom lip stuck out in a small pout.
Minho stared down at the sketchbook in my lap. "Looks like it moved to me."
I glanced down and discovered the page was covered in a swirl of lead and charcoal. It blended together to create a mass of spirals that gradually got thicker the farther they went up the page. To my confusion, I found my charcoal on the floor to the left of me. When had I picked it up? When did I use it? I didn't remember drawing at all.
"What is it?" Minho questioned as he squinted at the picture. His head tilted to the side to view it from another angle
"I think it's a tornado," I replied somberly. "I think it's me."
In my peripheral vision, I saw Minho look at me in concern, but my eyes stayed locked on the picture. A lump worked its way into my throat until I had to inhale a shaking breath through my mouth. Just when I felt my eyes sting with tears, Minho's hand clasped onto mine. He squeezed comfortingly. The action alone relieved some of the pressure in my chest.
"If you're a tornado, then you can destroy those shuck-faces who are talking bad about you," Minho informed me. I chuckled and ducked my head down. "I'm serious. Nad, this is what I've been preparing you for. Don't shut down on yourself now."
I bit the inside of my cheek and turned to him, discovering with slight surprise that he was very close. My cheeks heated up when my eyes involuntarily snuck a glance at his lips. Before I could shy away in embarrassment, though, Minho pulled me closer for a kiss. It was more gentle than the other two and caused me to nearly melt.
"I'm so glad I can do that now," Minho whispered once he pulled back half an inch. I found myself blushing even harder at that, which made me cover my face with my hands. He sounded bewildered when he asked, "Are you still blushing?"
"Yes," I managed to squeak out.
"Come on." Minho definitely rolled his eyes jokingly. "That was the third time and you're acting like you just saw me without clothes on."
Oh, God. I really wished he hadn't said that. The mental image that brought about made me want to crawl under my bed and never look at him again.
I squeezed my eyes shut when I felt hands on my own. They were trying to pull them from my face, but I was basically as strong as Minho was. He shifted around so he could get a better grip and managed to pull my arms away for just long enough that he could press his lips to mine again. I found my hands going to his face instead of mine. They grabbed his cheeks so they squished a bit.
My heart was doing backflips in my chest as his hand went to the back of my neck to bring me closer. I still felt awkward and unsure of myself, but it wasn't as bad as the last time. Slowly but surely, I was figuring out what to do.
I had to pull back and stifle a yawn. "Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I'm just exhausted."
"I'm not even going to complain because that was adorable," Minho replied with a grin. "Shuck, I like you."