LEVANTER ━ ONESHOTS

OUR STORY, UNWRITTEN

» [OUR STORY, UNWRITTEN - MINBIN] «
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GROUP: STRAY KIDS
PAIRING: MINBIN
REQUESTED? yes✓/no—by STRAWBBYLIX

THEIR REQUEST: "Minbin in a fantasy au where it's angsty move of the time but at the end it's kinda warm?"

A/N: It's not the best but it's honest work

Minho fell in love with Seo Changbin.

He fell in love with the curve of his ear, the bend of his elbow, the inside of his knee. He fell for the wobble of his lip and the soft shove of his hand when Minho made a stupid joke; he fell for the way Changbin made faces at infants through shop windows and smiled at strangers when they made eye contact. Minho fell in love with Seo Changbin.

Minho knew he shouldn't. He couldn't fall for Seo Changbin. And yet here he was.

At least, that's how the story goes.

But if you asked Minho himself, he wouldn't have called it falling. He would have called it running, with his eyelids raised until they were so dry they hurt just so he could see everything around him. Minho ran into love with Seo Changbin, arms wide and eyes opened the entire time. He knew he loved him, even though he couldn't. He did anyway.

("But that's love, isn't it?" Minho had asked. "Loving isn't falling. Loving is knowing; loving is walking into love with someone because you know you care for them. Loving isn't an accident."

Changbin disagreed. "Is it love if you make yourself do it?")

But in the end, it doesn't matter who tells the story. Minho loved Changbin, and Changbin loved Minho, and that wasn't enough.

——

"Minho!"

Minho was ripped out of his thoughts by a shout coming from the hall behind him. He sighed and shut his journal, closing the covers around the empty page he'd been sitting on. He placed his quill on the table next to him and turned.

"Yes, Chan?"

"There's someone here for you."

Minho groaned softly and stood, running his fingers through his dark hair. It was soft and the color of ebony and Minho could remember how much Changbin loved to finger through it as Minho laid on his chest.

Minho sighed as he ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling the catch on the sharp, pointed one on the top right. He strolled out the door impatiently.

"It's not Jisung again, is it? Tell him I don't have time to go down to the water today. I'm busy."

As Minho walked down the hallway, he couldn't help but glance out the window, onto the sandy shores below. The sky was grey and cloudy, water droplets racing each other down the glass panes and seeping through the cracks of his and his roommate's thin wooden walls. Jisung wouldn't want to go down to the water today; it was too dreary. He was probably curled up at home, nuzzled into Felix's chest as he waited for the storm to pass.

"It's not Jisung."

What would it be like to have a haven from the rain?

Minho hadn't noticed he had stopped in the hallway until he heard Chan call his name again. He cleared his throat and continued down to Chan's study room. If Jisung hadn't come to be a bother, who had?