On some days, the cat had simply got Jisung's tongue.
On other days, Jisung was fine with talking. Maybe he withheld information but other than that, he only said the truth to Minho.
Things stayed stagnant and only stagnant: still and only still; thoughtless and only thoughtless; dull and only dull, except not really dull and actually filled with colour and light and whatever with the exception of movement and —
These descriptions keep getting confusing.
Jisung stared up at the ceiling and tried to think. That was what people did when they tried to lose themselves in thought.
Has Jisung ever had a girlfriend? A grade above B? Stress about school? Friendship problems? Thoughts about being a nuisance? A thought other than pleasing Minho?
He was nothing without Minho now. But something kept scratching at his legs, creating more cuts, and Jisung just didn't have treatment for them.
Would he ever want to go back to when times were quieter — times when he hadn't gotten himself involved with a prodigy?
No. He didn't.
"What are you thinking about, Jisung?"
"Nothing much..."
"Is that so?"
Minho always had that same smile. How consistent.
—
YOU ARE READING
MY OWN STORY. minsung
FanfictionMinho is special. Jisung knows that's true for a fact, but still can't wrap his head around the concept of prodigies in itself. It's that moment when an unreadable boy comes along: he worsens his prescription; blurs his world; then ruthlessly kills...
