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Minho liked you.
You didn't just think, you knew. How? Because he was standing in front of you, admitting his feelings.
He grabbed your hands, that shifty smile etched into his face like bark on a tree, he wore it so often.
If he wasn't squeezing the life out of your fingers right now, you'd think this was some kind of joke.
"What I'm trying to say is, I like you Tessa. I've liked you for awhile, you've just been too stupid to notice," Minho was saying, unable to meet your eyes.
Your heart lifted, unable to fully believe what he was saying. Had you really just been missing every signal he was giving you? Underneath all that outward hate, did he really like you back?
As little as you wanted to admit it, you'd been waiting for this moment.
You smiled at him, about to spill your guts to the man you'd been in love with for years.
Suddenly, Minho started yelling at you. Only, he sounded like a woman. A woman you absolutely despised.
"Tessa, wake up right now! You've overslept, again! Get up!"
Rough hands were on your shoulders, shaking you so hard your teeth rattled. Your head positively ached, pulsating with the loud voice bombarding you. Hello, hangover.
What a stark contrast to the apparent dream you were having.
You pried your mothers hands from your sweaty shoulders, still trying to come to terms with the fact that none of it was real.
Of course it wasn't, you idiot. You thought bitterly, trying to cast it away. It was too painful to think about the reality, how completely different it was from what your subconscious clearly hoped for. You needed to squash those wishes, because they were never going to come true.
