Red Lights | Minho ✓

↪09

Third person
Pov

      ". . .so, any questions?"

Actually, Minho had a few. Why is your class always this boring? Do you know your monotonous voice makes me sleepy? How come there's always chalk smeared on your bald head?

Nobody dared to lilt the teacher, they were all very eagerly waiting for this lullaby of a class to meet it's temporary doom. Mr Choi moved his glasses back to the bridge of his nose, huffing out an exasperated sigh. "Very well then, I'll move on to the next example."

Audible groans and curses filled the gloomy class, signs of how mentally and physically exhausted the students were. And of course the teacher shrugged it off, proceeding to explain further into the topic pretty much no one gave a shit about.

The black haired looked out the window, making a disinterested face. Its been a week since he had an encounter with Miso or even his parents. He just spent the uneventful days drifting of at college cause he was up all night practically doing nothing.

Slowly but surely, the class ended and Minho wouldn't be told twice to pack up his things and leave, it was his last class for the day which means he had a lot of free hours to do whatever he wanted. He shouldered his bag, and beelined straight to the exit.

"So, how are things going with Miso?"

Dang you, old man. Minho didn't want to talk about it, especially with you. The black haired gave Chan a bored look, mumbling a low fine, which the older didn't buy. Felix had blabbed to him about the night when Minho had called Jisung and practically everything that happened after. Oh that chicken was going to pay.

"I'm guessing the dinner went okay?"

"It did, thank you for asking a week later," Chan sighed at the younger's sass. He walked up to Minho who was now walking towards the parking lot. He irritated the black haired because he was certain Chan knew something and was here to reprimand him. What? Its not like I hurt her or anything. He scoffed inwardly. "Are you gonna leave me alone?"

"We need to talk. . .now!"

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     A disgusted look plastered on Chan's face, he scrunched his nose in pure agitation. Of course he knew about the younger's addiction but was unaware that it had gotten out of hand. When Minho agreed to talk to him only if he could have a drink, he thought, yeah, its only A drink, what's wrong with that? But now, looking at the not-so-sober Minho, Chan wanted to turn back time.

"My God, Minho, you said one drink," He pulled the shot away from the black haired, sternly gazing at him.

Minho pouted. "If you want me to talk, I need to not be thinking properly."

"You never think properly."

Minho glared at Chan, before sinking into his sit. "Touché. What do you want me to say?"

"Miso!"

"She's hella fine, like damn-"

"No, what's going on between you two?" Chan interrupted Minho, he knew he was going to ramble about nothing related to the answer he wanted. The older crossed his arms, waiting to Minho to speak up.

"Nothing yet. . ." Minho wiggled his brows, a smug smirk on his lips. "If you know what I mean."

"You're disgusting. Is that all you think about?"

"Why are you mean to me?"

Chan signed. Yes, he says mean things to the latter, but it was for his own good. Minho is like an out of control child with too much freedom. Freedom to do what he likes, freedom to get what he likes, freedom to say what he likes. And the worse part is, he never uses the opportunity properly. He'd do whatever the heck pleases him, get whatever rubbish caught his attention and say fucked up nonsense almost all the time. It was exasperating, Chan was only trying to balance his stupidity out.

Actually drunk Minho was what he needed right now. He was willing to say what sober Minho would never, he's like a child that reveals how lonely Minho was, how sad he was. He'd say what he was actually feeling rather than bottling it up like Minho always did.

"I'm sorry Min," Chan sighed for the umpteenth time, ruffling his– scanty– hair. "Did Minho hurt Miso?"

"Maybe? She was mad and embarrassed, it made Minho happy."

The audacity!

"Then why were you sad?"

"Felix!" Minho instantly knew who blabbed to Chan about what happened, he slammed his hand on the table, and sneered through gritted teeth. Chan denied where he got it from and pinned in on his papa chan instinct. "She reminded me of Siwon."

Minho shut his eyes, his face creasing with fear. Fear that Chan was about to say something mean again. He flinched when he felt an arm around his shoulder pulling him closer to Chan. Odd. The hug was odd, what's it been, four years? That they hugged. When Minho's rebellious behaviour surfaced. It wasn't technically a hug but it felt great.

"Minho," Chan didn't know how to say this, he didn't what to upset the younger, so he tousled his– very little– hair. . .again. "Don't you think its time you move on?"

Minho shook his head. He didn't want to, he was scared of being hurt again, he was scared of going through it again, the incredibly painful feeling in your chest that seizes your breaths, the pain tugging on your heart string, the strong grip of sorrow wrapped around you, making your throat ache so much, making your chest heavy. No. He was done with that.

"Then what do you want to do?" Chan patted his hair, not wanting to ruin his mood any further than it already was.

"I want to cuddle-"

"Get out of my house!"

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Question of the day;
What's your favourite pastry?

(Pls note that no discriminating on someone's opinion or else your comment WILL be removed.)

Thank you!

Anyways hi, how are you?

As always Lee (> •-•)> will be taking your votes and comments.

thanks
Cya 💚