The Mannequin - Minsung

seventy-seven

Jisung doesn't sleep. He watches Minho. Then he stops. His eyes stare into space. Minho lets him. Because at least he's not crying.

Minho finishes his work... an hour later. He gathers everything. Puts it away. Leaves his still-wet pages. Flat. On his desk to dry.

He hurries back to Jisung. He's still in his place.

Minho touches his leg. "Do you need another hug?"

Jisung looks at him. At the table. It's empty of Minho's work.

"Oh. Are you done working?"

"Yeah... I wanted to finish it fast so I could be with you."

Jisung pushes himself up. Sits. "So... I can hug you?"

Minho drops on the couch. Holds his arms open to him.

Jisung climbs into his lap. Nuzzles his neck. Sighs wearily.

Minho rubs his back. Soothingly. He stays quiet.

He thinks... he has told Jisung enough. Reminded him enough. That he loves him. That he should stay. Not let himself get hurt. By the past. Those people in his head. 

Minho can tell it is hard. The way Jisung's been crying...

He takes a breath. "Jisung... You can share your thoughts with me if it helps. Or you can just ask for hugs. Whatever helps you."

Jisung gives no reply. No reaction.

Minho kisses his forehead. Just holds him.

- - -

- - - - - -

It feels as if it's hours later... that Jisung speaks.

"Minho... what is it that you want from me?" His voice is hoarse.

It makes Minho frown. This is the second time... for that question.

"Why do you ask me that, Jisung?" 

"You d-don't... want anything from me? You don't want to get something from me? That's impossible..."

Minho feels hurt by that. But he answers.

"I just want to love you and make you happy... and I know you love me too... so I guess, I want you to keep loving me and stay with me... so we can both be happy?"

Jisung says, "Okay." Then goes silent.

Minho waits. His arms are still around Jisung. The silence has been... worrisome. But after that question... it's even more so.

"What's on your mind?" Minho asks. Gently. Softly.

Jisung breathes out shakily. "I'm sorry..."

"About what? You have nothing to be sorry for."

It takes long moments again. For Jisung to talk.

"Minho... I have something very valuable."

Minho's confused. Afraid. The way JIsung's talking...

Minho has never heard him like this.

"Something valuable? Oh... do you mean the gift you bought me?"

He's joking. Because Jisung would not say that in such a voice. He'll be bouncing. Giggling. Giving him kisses. From happiness.

Jisung moves abruptly. Looks up. His eyes are glittering even more. From previous tears. But it's a familiar expression. An adorable one.

"Oh... Minho! The ch— my gift for you! Where is it? Did you open it? You can't open it! I have to give it to you!"

Minho chuckles. Holds his cheeks. Kisses him. "I didn't open it. I'm waiting for you to give it to me."

Jisung exhales. Relieved. Then he scrambles off Minho. "Where is it? Can I give it to you now?"

For a moment... Minho almost says yes. Nearly gets up. To lead him to the closet. Where he's left it. So Jisung can beam. Giggle and bounce. Forget the pain. Of whatever's in his head.

But he stops. Instead, he grabs Jisung's wrist. Pulls him back down. Gathers him in his arms. "How about when you're feeling better? When... all that's in your head... isn't hurting you?"

"What if it won't stop hurting?" Jisung whispers.

"Tell me," Minho says. "Maybe if you share it with me... you'll hurt less. What did you mean, about something valuable?"

Jisung bites his lip. There's fear in his eyes.

"Minho... I d-don't want you to change..."

"Change? How would I change? Why would I change?"

"If I t-tell you... then you change... and you want it from me..."

Minho's too confused. His thumb strokes Jisung's cheeks.

"I want nothing from you. Just your love and happiness. And maybe your gift." He laughs. Adds, "I don't know what you mean, or what I'm supposed to want... what's this about?"

Jisung sniffs. "Minho..." He gulps. "I love you."

"I know, Jisung. I love you too—"

Jisung hides in his neck. Hugs him tightly.

What's going on? Is this about whatever has caused him to become a mannequin? Is it his memories?

To be continued...