Toxic ☆ Minsung ✔

07

Jisung slowly opened his eyes, immediately feeling sharp pain in his head. His hand instinctively touched the place which hurt the most, fingers brushing against the thick bandage that wrapped around his head.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" a voice, coming from the other side of the room, asked.

"Where's Minho?" he asked instead of answering.

"He had to leave."

"No, he just didn't want to be here."

"Jisung. You couldn't see how much he was worried about you, but he had to leave. I'll take care of you while he's gone."

Chan approached him and checked his forehead, looking at him with only concern and worry.

"Tell me the truth, hyung," the blond insisted, feeling weaker than ever. He just wanted to crawl into Minho's embrace and breathe in the sweet scent he was so unconditionally addicted to, burry his face in the big sweater he always wore. He wanted to look up and see the dark cold eyes and watch as they soften at the sight of him. He wanted to see it at least once. And that voice, the sound that could bring chills to his whole body.

"How can you love him so much, after all that he's done to hurt you?" Chan asked, as he examined his face, obviously seeing how deep in thought the boy was. "How can you still follow him around after all those times he rejected you?"

"He's as depressed as me, hyung. We just handle it differently. He tries to push everyone away, I try to make people come, yet we both ended up lonely. I just need him to break his act and... Accept mine."

Emptying yet another glass of vodka, he lost the count of how many of them he's had.

First time ever in his lifetime, this strong, bitter liquid didn't make him feel as good as it used to. It made him feel nauseous and sick, yet he kept on going, in false hope it'll make him forget. For at least a while.

"Dude, don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender, his close friend, asked, handing him another glass.

"Hyunjin... You have no idea how much I need this," Minho said lazily, having to support himself by holding on the chair next to him. His vision was slightly blurry, feeling like he was about to pass out.

"What is it this time?" The younger leaned against the counter, ready to pull his inner therapist out. "Someone died? You had a fight with Jisung?"

Minho stood up, grabbing Hyunjin by the collar.

"Shut up," he growled. "I'm leaving."

"I can give you a lift-" the bartender said, but was cut off by Minho putting a finger over his mouth. He then stood up, stumbling over his foot, but somehow keeping the balance, he limped over to the exit.

The night was dark and cold. Minho felt warm though, as the alcohol kept on running through his veins. He didn't know where he was going, he just went with the flow, where his drunken legs led him.

Jisung was still on his mind, the boy's smile, his crazy laugh, slender, skinny body.

He could feel the tears streaming down his cold red tinted cheeks, as he sat down on the pavement in front of Jisung's house, leaning against it.