The Mess We've Made | Minsung

chapter thirty-six

As I finished lighting all of the candles in the kitchen, I heard the front door unlock. I quickly hopped up on the countertop and waited for Minho to follow the trail of roses I'd left for him.

This is so gross.

He entered the kitchen with a grimace, "Roses? Really?"

"Those are the first words you've spoken to me in six days."

"I'm not talking to you."

"It's tacky but it got your attention, didn't it?"

Minho approached the island table and leaned against it, "I suppose it did."

"Is something distracting you?" I asked him, letting a bit  of my sweater fall to reveal more of my shoulder when I realized where his eyes were.

"Yeah, definitely," Minho put his face in his hands for a moment and shook his head, "Can you not?"

I hopped off the countertop and leaned against it, "Can I not what?"

"Dude, you're embarrassing me."

"How?" I scoffed softly.

"I'm trying to be mad at you here."

"I made you something."

"Are you using food as an apology?" Minho asked with a smirk.

Far from it.

"I was going to use my words first but whatever works, right?"

"Is this the part where you grovel?" He chuckled.

"Just try it," I pouted at him for a moment before shuffling over to him and putting my hands on his arm, "Come on."

"You're not trying to poison me, right?" Minho joked, turning around and taking his place at the seat I'd made for him.

"If I wanted to poison you, I would've done it already," I chuckled. I cut a bite out for him, "Do you want to know what it is or do want to go in completely blind?"

"Fuck it, I'll go in blind," Minho shrugged with a grin. He opened his mouth and I held my hand out underneath the fork as I fed him, "This is-,"

"Tastes like shit, doesn't it?" I dropped the fork on the table, watching with a smirk as Minho grabbed the napkin I'd placed out for him and spit the bite I'd given him into it with a look of disgust on his face. "Yeah. That's the same reaction I had when I found out all of the vile shit you'd been saying about Felix behind his back to Jensen Hale, of all goddamn people."

"You know about that?"

"Of course I fucking know!" I shouted, slamming my hands down on the table. "Do you think I'm fucking stupid, Minho?"

"What?"

"Look me in the eyes right now," I leveled my head with his, "Do you think that I'm stupid?"

"I-,"

I raised my shoulders, "Why do you try so hard to control me?"

"Han-,"

"Do you have words to say, Minho? Speak English. Words. Use them."

"I don't think you're stupid."

"You treat me like I am!" I shouted.

"That is so not true."

"Why do you insist on trying to control me so much? You know I'm unpredictable and it excites you yet you try to fit me into a box. I fascinate you and you put me on a pedestal but whenever I do something that you deem as out of character, you retaliate. I could leave at any fucking time! I can do anything I want! I feel like you need to be reminded of that because you seem to think that you can say whatever the fuck that you want. I let you get away with the way you treated me in the beginning because I knew you'd shape up when we got together but now that you have me you don't know how to act. I'm a member of fucking Mensa! I could go out and publish my independent research on atmospheric physics. I could quite literally break into Anaïs' servers and wipe the damn thing from existence if I fucking wanted to! In fact, I could go out right now and expose you for all of the user information you've sold. The rich get richer, right? You've admitted on multiple occasions of underestimating me yet you insist on doing it at the worst possible times. Your shit? It's fucking dead. There was no end goal. My shit? It's made of gold. I'm about to touch god right now and that scares the fuck out of you. Do you have any idea what I'm capable of?"