THE8 | Junhao | *EDITING*

THIRTY - EIGHT

| CHAPTER THIRTY - EIGHT |

Minghao felt a chill run through the air, but it didn't bother him. Instead, he found it awakening, comforting in a way he couldn't explain. The nippy goosebumps felt like a thick blanket, warming him right up.

His fingers pinched a cigarette, the smoke flying through the air, matching the chill. He sucks a breath, closing his eyes as the end of the stick flames, a relieving feeling in his heart as he puckers his lips, blowing it out seconds later.

He was sat outside on the steps near the back of the building, his legs straightened. His feet touched the ground, and his body rested on one of the concrete stairs.

He hears a door shut. It was Jun, and Minghao didn't notice he's actually here until the man takes a seat right next to him, letting out sigh, "You're smoking."

"Do you not?" Minghao lips turn low, "I could put it out if you want—"

"No, no I'm fine." Jun declines, and Minghao's widening his eyes in surprise as Jun takes the cigarette from him. He watches Jun bring it to his lips, chest rising as he inhales.

He pulls it back after a moment or two, blowing the smoke in the air, and Minghao watches in awe how it sails with the wind.

Jun smiles, returning it.

Minghao snorts, amused, "You smoke?"

"Didn't pick you out either." Jun shrugs, meeting Minghao's eyes. He pouts his lips, whining like a child, "You look like such an innocent little bean."

"Bean?" Minghao furrows his brows with a laugh, "Well that's something you don't hear everyday." He takes another swig, cigarette pinched, eyes shut in relieving content.

After a moment, "Your ankle okay now?" It had been a few days since Jun sprained it, a few days since he was told to stay off it for a while. Minghao had honestly tried not to laugh at Jun's frustration in not being allowed to tag along on missions for a whole week.

"Yep," Jun grins, wiggling his leg to show him, "All better."

"Good, that's good." Minghao nods.

There's a pause in the air, just like there was in every single conversation they had. They switched back and forth between the cigarette, not saying a word as they inhaled only to spew.

Minghao only drops the cigarette and steps on it when it gets too short, shoe twisting on the burnt out stick to put it out.

"You had any more nightmares?" Jun asks.

Minghao looks at him, head tilted, "How'd you know I had nightmares?" He asks, genuinely taken aback, "I never really told you."

Jun shrugs, "I heard it in your voice, I guess." He doesn't look at Minghao, only at the ground as his shoe plays with a small pebble, "You sounded so frightened...."

Minghao frowns, looking away, "Sorry."

Jun furrows his brows, turning his head. He cracks a disbelieved smile, "You're apologizing for being scared?"

Minghao doesn't answer right away, "It must've bothered you, though. right?" He laughs, shaking his head, "I mean, it was like 3 in the morning."