Imagine

minsung oneshot

no i lied this isn't a minsung oneshot

"Hi Jisung, uh, is it a good time to talk to you, like, right now?"

The boy in question scanned the room hopeful for any excuse to get back to his seat to no avail. "Uh, yeah, what's up?" Jisung shoved his hands into his pocket, leaning against the countertop beside him.

Minho cleared his throat. "I think I like you."

The shorter boy stayed silent. It wasn't as if anything else of significance was taking up all of his focus — it was really just down to the fact that he didn't care.

But he had to be polite.

"Oh, uh..."

Minho's heart rate quickened at the ending of Jisung's fading trail of speech. "No, uhm, I wasn't — it's — I wasn't expecting anything anyway, I just wanted to tell you because it might have — you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely — I'm just — it's just — I don't — I can't — I don't like you back."

It was fine. It wasn't as if he was expecting anything anyway. He was just telling him because it might have acted as some sort of closure to help the poor older get over his one sided feelings.

Jisung stiffened, no longer leaning on the counter. Instead, he stood up straight, nodded, took some A4 lined paper and went back to his seat.

Were they friends at any point? Maybe. But maybe that was only Minho considering them friends. It seemed as if Jisung was only being polite.

Maybe it wasn't a good time and he was only being polite. Maybe he just wanted to do his work. Maybe he should have told the boy later, or before, or a few weeks ago, or that one day they talked months prior to this newly awkward infestation swarming Minho's head.

Minho, much like his crush, grabbed lined paper to follow and went back to his own respective seat. His seat on the other side of the room from Jisung's.

He always knew there was an invisible barrier between them. The other had always been in reach, just that overbearing length away; however, it might not have just been a barrier. Maybe it was a whole different world he lived in.

The universe wasn't exactly pulling them apart, but they never met by chance anymore.

Minho only imagined the red string connecting the two's paths. Their paths were entirely different. They were headed North and South respectively — they were going in the polar opposite directions. Parallel lines never meet, but all they need to do is turn around to meet each other's eyes.

Yeah. That was closure, right?