𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 ♡ MinSung

Ch. 65

Minho couldn't really process what he had just done. Had he lost his mind? That was one of the most stupid things that's ever been done in human history.

He was now laying on his bed at home praying to God that soon enough he would wake up and it would all be a dream, in a way though, he did kind of want it to be real.

He felt like he was finally able to say goodbye, and knowing that Jisung would probably read what was in the book was kind of like a form of closure.

Maybe it was stupid, maybe he really shouldn't have done it, maybe he should have just let the boy take the bus home... but he didn't.

People like to say that everything happens for a reason, so maybe this had a purpose, maybe it would lead to something bigger and better.. or maybe not.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He sighed, letting his eyes drift shut. He recalled what Jisungs face had looked like just before he kissed him.

His cheeks red and burning, lips pink and glossy, eyes relaxed and soft, his hair was styled in waves that shaped his face perfectly.

He recalled how amazing he had looked in a suit, the black fabric making him look classy and high end. He didn't need a suit to look nice though.

All he needed was, well, him.

He was pretty all on his own, something that Minho failed to notice when they first met, but now he knew. He knew all too well.

He kind of wished he was still oblivious to Jisungs charms, as they lured him in too easily. They made it hard to stay away.

He hoped that Jisung felt just as good about the kiss as Minho did. Was it the equivalent of confessing his feelings? Or maybe Jisung hadn't caught on.

It didn't matter, he would know soon enough when he opened the present. Maybe he already had—

A thought floated into Minho's head. What if Jisung thought that the older was toying with him? What if he didn't trust that Minho truly loved him...

He shut his eyes tightly, trying not to think about it. He didn't deserve the boy anyway.

He got off of his bed, basically tearing the suit off of himself. He hated that suit, he hated what it represented.

Minho was rich garbage and he knew it.

He pulled the white button up shirt over his head and threw it on the ground of his room somewhere, he didn't care where.

He pulled out a large sweater and some sweatpants, something he felt arguably more comfortable in. Before he put the pants on he pulled the bandaging off of his thighs from earlier that day, it was probably about 8pm at night by now.

They had originally left the party at 7pm and it took Minho half an hour to get home as well as drop Jisung off.

The cuts still stung and he knew that he should probably disinfect them, but at the same time he wanted them to scar. He wanted them to be a reminder of all the things he had done.

Minho sighed, going to the bathroom and redoing the bandages. Afterwards he sat in the mirror for a moment, looking deep into his own eyes, as if trying to find something.

He thought about what it felt like to kiss the boy. His hand traveled up and he skimmed his fingertips over his lips, lingering for a moment.

He was abruptly pulled out of his trance as he heard the front door open and close. He knew it was Chan, but wasn't sure if he wanted to speak with him.

He peaked out of the bathroom, seeing Chris taking off his jacket, still with his suit on. The elder called out, "Minho?"

He opened the door more, his eyes still kind of red from crying earlier.

"Minho?" Chan asked seeing the boy, "You don't look well, is everything all right?" He took a few steps to be in front of the younger.

Minho shook his head, "I kissed him.." he whispered, "I don't know why.. but I kissed him.."

"Who?" Chan asked, surprised.

"Jisung."

"When did you see Jisung? Did you run into him on your way to the parking lot—"

"It was him. I was driving Jisung home." Minho cut his brother off, biting his lip, "I should have denied. I should have known I couldn't handle it.."

"Oh.." Chris said warily, "When— when did you kiss him?"

"When we were at his house. He was about to leave, and, and I got out and gave him the book and kissed him.. it was so perfect.. yet so... horrible."

"What book? Why was it horrible?"

"I got him a journal— a new one and I wrote down a big confession to him on the first pages.." he admitted.

"Ah.. I thought maybe you gave back the old one.." Chan said quietly, leading his brother to the bedroom without any more words to exchange.

"It was horrible because I knew he probably didn't feel the same way.." Minho confessed again.

"I get it."

The two of them got into the bed, Minho automatically seeking physical affection. He never realized how much he needed someone to hug him..