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Why is the grass wet when it hasn't even rained?
Felix could practically feel his socks getting damper and damper the longer he stood in the clearing outside the club. His friends were dancing to yet another slow song. Other than the music, the entire courtyard was quiet. Everyone was peaceful, content.
Everyone except Felix.
He stood a few yards away from where you and Minho were dancing, eyes narrowed as he followed your every move. Mostly, it was Minho holding you up as the two of you attempted to sway to the music. Despite you clearly being drunk, that didn't stop Minho from making you laugh. Felix could hear your genuine giggles mixed with Minho's soft chuckles all the way from his spot near the table that you'd just been sitting at, moments before.
It had been three songs since Minho had asked you to dance. Three full songs. And while that was technically only about ten minutes total, Felix felt like it had been at least ten hours.
Why had Felix been so stupid?
He could have asked you to dance. Minho had even given him permission to do so, practically admitting that he wasn't super into you. And yet Felix had handed you over on a silver platter. And here Felix was, standing all alone, torturing himself, while the rest of his friends had a great, romantic evening.
Did he want himself to be unhappy?
No, of course not. Those would be the thoughts of an insane person.
