dear diary, // minsung

twenty five,

"Mr. Seong, please come up here, and share your project with the class." Ms. Young called out, effortlessly marking things on the paper attached to her clipboard.

Jisung had been itching in his skin, his anxiety crawling its way out of his body. His stomach was bubbling in anticipation yet dreading the absolute moment he'd have to walk up and present his poem for Minho.

He was petrified that he made his poem too obvious about his feelings towards the older male. Did it reek of desperation? Was it covered top to bottom in cheesy lines that only Jisung would ever think of with his writer brain?

"Hey, what are you nervous for?" Minho nudged him softly from the side. Jisung's trance was broken by Minho's few words, and he looked over to the older in an astonished way, as if he never expected Minho to talk to him in his life.

"I'm just nervous to present, that's all." Jisung muttered, a little ashamed for feeling so.

"This is your passion, isn't it?" Minho tried to reassure his younger friend. "I'm sure you did an amazing job."

No words could ever be spoken to describe how perfect you are.

Jisung cleared his throat and shook his head. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right! Are you doubting your favorite hyung?"

"Who said you were my favorite hyung?" Jisung smirked at the innocence he feigned throughout his voice.

Minho clicked his tongue and lightly flicked the younger. "I know I'm your favorite hyung."

"Oh? And why is that?"

Minho almost answered a little too quickly, but then snapped his mouth shut at what almost spewed from his mouth. Jisung had no clue Minho obtained his diary, read it, and still hadn't given it back. Even worse, he knows it belongs to Jisung, and he's well aware of the boy's feelings for him. Although Minho has known these things for a while after finishing the diary, the guilt of it finally sunk in his heart and settled there, his remorse finding itself a nice home.

Minho was so set on doing the right thing and returning this diary, but why was he now feeling so selfish in giving it back? Did he really think he was going to lose Jisung once it was given back? If anything, he might lose Jisung the longer he keeps it, wondering what to do with it and ideas on how to give it back leading absolutely nowhere.

Swallowing his pride was like a big pill to digest, his tight throat a barrier for that pill to fall through. How long was Minho going to sit here and claim he wanted to be the good guy for months but hesitate to act on his now insecure thoughts?

Minho sighed and his eyes dropped to the floor beneath his feet. He crossed his arms before gulping dry. "Jisung I-"

"Han Jisung?"

Jisung's head whipped in the teacher's direction. "Yes?" His voice trembled throughout the air.

"It's your turn to present on Mr. Lee."

"O-Oh," Jisung's voice faltered. He scrambled around on his desk finding his paper, and clutched it in his grasp. "Alright, I'll go up then."

Jisung swiftly stood up, but his head hung low, anxiety bubbling in his stomach at the thought of presenting. Jisung really just wrote how he felt about Minho in general, and looking back on it now, it was kind of embarrassing.

Jisung halted in his steps and faced the class, who didn't show any sign of disgust, which calmed Jisung a little bit.

"H-Hi I'm Han Jisung." Jisung's voice ran a little high pitched before clearing his throat. "I wrote a poem about my dear friend Lee Minho."