Minsung Oneshots

Opposites Attract Pt. 2

A searing pain in the back of his neck and a throbbing headache was what finally brought Minho out of his stupor.

Groaning softly, the boy opened his eyes, feeling as if lead weights were tied to his eyelids. Blinking with effort, he finally managed to open his eyes fully. Minho looked around and the first thing he thought was, Not another warehouse.

But sadly, that was exactly where the unfortunate boy had ended up, yet again. Looking around, and wincing at the way his neck protested, Minho saw a table with two knives on it, same as the one which he had seen when he was in the warehouse with Jisung. For a fleeting second Minho wondered if he was in the same warehouse.

It did definitely look alike to the previous one. And while this one still was a warehouse, it wasn't the same. There was a peeling layer of paint on the wall, the colour obnoxiously blue. There was also a pile of what seemed to be wooden crates and slabs of wood strewn in one corner of the room. And the biggest difference was, there were no windows in sight, in the room where Minho was sitting.

Wait..... sitting?

A brief and annoyed glance downwards confirmed the boy's suspicions of being tied to a chair with what looked like fraying but in reality was a very strong rope. The chair he had been tied to was wooden and hard backed and whoever had tied him to it had clearly done a very good job.

Even then Minho tried his luck with struggling, only succeeding in making the rough rope dig into his already cut wrists even further. Cliché, Minho thought, scoffing lightly. Then again, you'd be surprised how many movie clichés you actually end up tripping up on once you enter the Mafia world.

Unaware of the time, where he was, and who he might potentially end up having a, no doubt, friendly chat with, Minho leaned back against the chair and shut his eyes, trying to relieve himself of his headache, but once again, only managing to make it worse when he accidentally jerked backwards.

God luck really wasn't on his side tonight.

As his eyes closed, Minho wondered what the knives were for. Like before, they seemed to be taunting him. Well within his reach, and yet, so out of it. But last time he had acted dumb. If he hadn't been so captivated by Jisung's words, he wouldn't have ended up in this place now. He had acted as silly as a high schooler tripping on his own open shoelaces when spotting his crush in the hallways, except that this wasn't as simple as breaking your nose with a smile on your face and the thought of impressing your giggling crush as you fell.

Jisung. God that boy. Minho honestly couldn't believe how he had acted in front of the younger. I mean, slipping up on an opportunity of escaping from a newbie of your rival base just because you wanted to heat more of his voice was pathetic enough already. The fact that he was even letting Jisung overpower his mind was even worse.

Silly girl crushes were his teammates thing, not his.

And getting kidnapped was an eye opener for him. He wasn't about to get overpowered again. Not by Jisung. Not by anyone.

Minho opened his eyes and shifted around in the chair. Okay, it was light. So that meant that with a little effort he could get to the table of knives. The boy pushed his chair to one side, almost toppling over but managing to regain balance while hurrying to stabilize his other side.

What Minho didn't expect however, was how loud of a screech the chair would produce as it got dragged.

After every screech, Minho would wince hard, looking around for any shift in the air. Finally after about an agonizing five minutes or so Minho reached the table. He allowed himself a minute of rest as he took deep breaths to calm his racing heart.