SHINE (SHINee AU)

47 - C'est La Vie

Goodbyes were hard for Jonghyun.

They were especially hard for Minho.

Even down to the hours leading to Jonghyun's departure, Minho spent them in spirals of anxiety. Each time the older boy would hold his hand, or even exchange a glance with him. Packing up Jonghyun's things, and leaving the house a lot more empty than Minho initially realized it was before Jonghyun was even living there.

Today couldn't have been worse either: It was bright, sunny, and colorful. And once more, Minho would have to let it go—watch it all slip right past him. There was nothing he could do except just watch with pained eyes. The morning was quiet, and Minho felt uneasy. It was rare that he would sit alone just with his feelings, sitting and marinating in them as they let them fester in his brain until he thought his body would eat itself from the inside out. Every passing thought ate away at his brain, so he would look back up at the window at the sun, hoping the voices would quiet down.

"Morning." Minho turned around, watching Jonghyun step out of his room with his bags, closing the door gently behind him.

"Morning," Minho responded. It was a morning, indeed.

"Thanks for helping me," Jonghyun told him idly, setting his things down next to the couch and walking into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Minho hummed in response, looking back down at the table and fidgeting with the hangnail on his finger.

"Do you have everything?" Minho asked in feigning interest, turning his head to look at Jonghyun whose back was facing him.

"I think so," he responded, plugging the kettle into the outlet on the wall. "I suppose if I do forget anything, then it wasn't worth taking in the first place."

"This?" Minho lifted up the silly mug: 'YALE GRANDPA.'

"I want you to keep that," Jonghyun said with a smile. "I never have time to sit down with a mug of coffee in Korea. Besides... I'd rather it be in your hands. I'm afraid it might get lost in my stuff."

"Okay," Minho mumbled, leaning back in his chair. He normally would have prepared himself a bowl of oatmeal, cereal, anything, but his stomach felt sick with anxiety all of last night and continued into the morning. Most of the night was spent in the bathroom, hanging over the toilet bowl, anyway.

"I know better than to ask if you're okay," Jonghyun stated, turning around to meet Minho's eyes who had glanced up shyly from the table, "so I'm not going to ask."

"You already know how I feel," Minho grumbled.

"I know." Silence. Every time Minho looked into the older boy's eyes, his entire life flashed before him. It would flash around distant memories, and then it would all go quiet. There was nothing left. No more memories to be made. He had reached the end of the film in his brain as it rolled idly with no footage left to preview.

"Y'know, for as many times I've done this, I haven't gotten any better," Minho half-joked, worrying on his bottom lip.

"At what?"

"Saying goodbye."

"Ah." Jonghyun frowned, his eyes saddening. "I'm really sorry, Minho. I wish I didn't have to go." Sometimes the right thing to do is the hardest, Jonghyun wanted to say, but he didn't know that he even believed it himself. Was he doing the right thing? Minho shrugged, looking back down at the table and tracing the faint lines with his finger.

"Thanks," Minho said after a moment, pressing his lips together.

"Thanks for what?" Jonghyun asked, cocking his head to the side. He turned back when he heard the kettle cry out that it was finished.