DLMLU

Bottled Past

Minho wanted to lose track of the days since his near-death experience, but he kept track. Nine days had gone by and yet it was like yesterday. He wanted to forget it ever happened. The one that if Jisung hadn't pulled him off the railing, he'd be dead. But he also wanted to lose track how many times he has dreamed of the same two things. His nightmares are getting worse over time, and his fantasy dreams of Jisung have been becoming a daily occurrence. His dream that someone that wasn't Felix actually took to him. Who cared for him, gave him the reassurance and affection.

It was so bad he separated himself from everyone like he usually did. He barely glanced at his room mate now. He couldn't hold the gaze he used to. He couldn't speak to him without wanting to simply crumble to the youngers touch.

He loathed the feeling, the one he so desperately wanted to feel.

That night when Jisung was going to ask him something plays over and over like a broken record. It made Minho wonder what was on the youngers mind. He groaned in frustration sitting up again, looking over at Jisung who had headphones on again sleeping on his back, head turned upwards with heavy sighs. Minho wished he could sleep like that. He heard hefty coughs come from the younger. That being said, he felt guilty. He suffered with getting a fever from the rainy night. At least that's what Minho began to tell himself. He was the reason Jisung got sick. It had only been a mere nine days since the incident. It made sense. Minho couldn't resist his stupid nature and made his way to Jisungs bedside sitting on the edge it to check his forehead, he wasn't overly warm so that was a plus. He grabbed the cloth from the wash basin, draining it and sat on the bedside wiping any sweat off the male's forehead.

"Mhmm..." Jisung mumbled swallowing as he turned his head away. Minho shuffled off the bed heading down to the kitchen. It was two-thirty, so he didn't quite worry about being shirtless just to grab a cold glass of water.

Flicking the kitchen light on, he grabbed a cup and went to the fridge pulling the filtered water out. His arms ached still, but that's what he got for sneaking out the other night to go to another underground fight just days after his attempt.

"Lee Know?" Minho flinched hearing his nick name turning quickly to see Chan standing in the doorway rubbing his eyes. Stilling fast Minho choked on his drink gasping for air. His first instincts were to try and hide his scars. He didn't care if the older had briefly seen them before when Changbin first helped clean them awhile ago. Minho still felt uncomfortable with the thought. That, and the fact he still had fresh bruises.

"You good Lee?" Chan came and rubbed Minho's back but hastily pulled away from the touch. His hand coming up waving the older off.

"I-I'm fine. Don't touch me please." Minho meekly asked finally gaining his breath back. His next motion was to turn his back away and cross his arms over his chest.

"You don't have to hide them..." Chan bluntly states as he reached for a glass and the pitcher of water. Minho scoffed at his comment, it was easier said than done but old habits die hard. Besides, what was Chan even doing away at this time? Chan started pouring water into his glass.

"Sorry... Habit..." Minho mumbled sipping his water silently even though he hated Chan practically outing him for his self consciousness.

"I see. Well, you can break the habit here. We don't judge. Or at least we attempt not too, some- not saying names just don't have a filter when their anxiety hits the roof."

"You're talking about the other night with Jisung." Minho stated clearly taking the hint that Chan nodded. Minho swallowed thickly, guilt sinking in.

"I'm sorry for taking off..." Minho sat down at the island. Staring into the glass absentmindedly