you are in the car with jeonghan humming some familiar tune on your way to your dorm. he’s on his phone texting someone, probably his mom or sister because he has this look on his face—affectionate and warm and so full of love. you wonder if that’s how jeonghan looks while texting you. you can’t help but stare at him a little bit longer than you mean to.

of course, he catches your gaze. he is always aware of you. 

your face says it all, he’d say sometimes. you wish he'd tell you what he sees.

eight years of knowing each other, you still have moments like this. where he looks at you like he isn’t used to your staring and you, not knowing how to save yourself. at times like this, you always feel like you should say something but you never know the words. so you’d end up silent and he’d not meet your eyes until it's over.

jeonghan ducks his head down, clearing his throat, his little song forgotten. “what are you gonna have for dinner?”

it means eat with me. you think for a moment. “i don’t know,” you tell him.

jeonghan pockets his phone and leans back, closing his eyes. “how about seolleongtang?”

“sounds good,” you say and you look out of the window. you never say no to jeonghan.

—

the food already arrives when you go to the eighth floor after washing up. he tells you seungkwan is out to eat with a friend. jihoon is at the studio because there are only a few days before the comeback and soonyoung must have tagged along. it’s just you and jeonghan.

you exchange his banana milk carton with the strawberry milk you fetched for him from your refrigerator because you know he likes it better. you let yourself revel a little in the way his eyes light up at that.

you start talking about how you should be cutting your hair. he jokingly tells you not to.

“leave your hair this way and bleach it so we’d match,” he says. you know he’s just saying whatever but you take that to your heart. 

you always do.

—

it’s a day before the comeback and you are glad that you won over wonwoo at rock paper scissors, free from the cleaning duty. before you think of going home, jeonghan is at your side muttering about wanting to take a stroll.

it’s 3 am and you know you won’t sleep even if you get into bed. “i’ll go with you.”

the first time jeonghan took you to the park where he found rabbits was some two years ago. you tried to catch a bunny but they were quick on their feet. jeonghan laughed at you.

now two years later, you watch jeonghan caressing a bunny on his lap in awe.

“how do you do that?”

jeonghan grins. “i come here often. i made a few friends.”

you crouch beside him to watch another one approach jeonghan with ease. “do they have names?” you ask as you try to pet it but it shies away.

“i named them. this,” he points to the one he’s holding, “is choi seungcheol. and this is coups.” as if it knows jeonghan is calling him, the one that hopped away from your touch, hides behind jeonghan, making him giggle. he points somewhere to your behind. “that one is just seungcheol. he’s not coming to me because you are blocking his way.”

you give him a look. he smiles at you in a way you can’t tell if he’s playing or if he really named them after you. “then who am i?”

he looks at you, biting his lower lip, suppressing a smile. “you are ddaddu.”

it’s jeonghan and he just says anything that comes to his mind so you don’t think about it twice. “so i am ddaddu, huh?”

he averts his eyes to the bunny he’s holding and coos at it and makes sure you pet at least one of them before you leave.

—

they ask you what kind of love you want in the future; you say you don’t want the boiling love. or the love that runs cold. then you think of jeonghan.

you think of a time when you were nineteen and told jeonghan you’d never let him fail and the way he looked back at you, holding onto your words. you think of a time when you were twenty and found jeonghan wearing your ring because you forgot it the previous night in his bed where he kissed you for the first time.

you have always been scared of losing things life has been kind enough to give you and that includes him. you realized that when you saw how bad your hands trembled after reading the text from jeonghan. coups-ya, i am sorry, i can’t do this anymore.

“a warm love,” you tell them, “i want a love that keeps on going like that.”

—

jeonghan gives everyone pet names. hoshingie, wonungie. you think that’s how ddaddu becomes a thing too. jeonghan begins to call you that a lot. he tells the fans about it. he calls you ddaddu during the broadcasts. you don’t think about it much at first.

but then your manager hands you a package and a letter on your birthday. it’s from jeonghan and he hasn’t written anything but ddaddu-ya, happy birthday, you have worked hard. here have my sign. and his sign.

that’s enough to make you smile. you have known him for eight years and he’s still shy and it makes you all warm inside. 

then it hits you. that’s how ddaddu sounds when jeonghan calls you.

warm and endeared. full of love.

—

“i am getting used to it, you know?” you tell him when it’s just you two in the practice room. seungkwan is out to get coffee and others haven’t arrived yet. you are lying on the floor while he stands beside you, on his phone.

“of what?”

“your pet name,” you say, smiling. “i am starting to notice when you don’t call me that.”

he pockets his phone and looks at you, studying. to see if you are accusing him. “you said that’s your favorite pet name.”

you nod. “it is. i like it. it sounds like warm. i love how only you call me that.” you place a confession there, hoping he notices.

you can’t tell whether he does because you only see what jeonghan lets you. but you hope with your tongue between your teeth, waiting for his next words.

but the door opens and the moment is gone. whatever jeonghan could have said will remain unsaid.

you decide you don’t need to hear them because when jeonghan looks again at you, his eyes are soft. the room gets noisy in a blink but where you are lying, it is still quiet, as if it's just you and him in your world. jeonghan reaches his hand for you. “alright, ddaddu-ya, get up.”

you take his hand and he pulls you up on your feet. someone calls his name and he looks away from you but you feel his little finger hooking around yours.

there, you have always had it. your warm love.