The Odd Doctor Out | A Drama | S. 5

864 🩺 The Return Of The Google Search ft. Story Of Our Lives

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PLEASE REPORT THIS UNDER COPYRIGHT, and do not support thieves. It breaks my heart.

Sincerely,
Eve ♡

~~~

Freshly showered, hair probably still damp, but with not a single fuck to give, Yunho was laid out starfish on his bed in his parents' home, staring up at the ceiling. He was in a strange mood—not one he had words for, but also not that he felt like he necessarily needed, nor wanted one to name it.

He could describe it though.

It started with the obvious feelings that came with the fact that it was the first night he was spending without Mingi in a long while. He'd only just gotten over the effects of having to let Mingi sleep in San's fucking bed while they roomed together, and yet now, after having finally gotten him to himself, he was laying in bed alone all over again.

It was mildly irritating, in that there was a kind of urge to be near Mingi that was like an itch he just couldn't scratch, because here he was, home, and there Mingi was, three hours away in a dorm room bed, probably surrounded by strangers.

However that being said, there was also an intense longing in him that was far more upsetting in the sad kind of way, because all things aside... 

He missed him.

He missed him in the way that he wished he could listen to his voice beside him, rather than through a phone line. He wished he could see him in flesh, rather than through FaceTime. He wished he could reach out and touch him—hold his hand—rather than brush his fingertip over his cheek on his screen. And he wished he could hug him and feel that intense calmness that came with being with him, the way that felt so right.

He missed him, somehow both more and less than he'd expected he would, all at once. He'd thought it would be crushing, and in a way, it was. But while it hurt not being near him, he realised that something had changed since in the beginning...

Without any real belongings in his room anymore, it felt as lifeless and empty as it had once, before he'd met Mingi. Only then, he hadn't known what course his life would take, and now, looking back, it was so easy to see his struggles before his eyes...

Staring at his hand paintings on the back of his door that were now only there in spirit...

Sitting at his desk, unable to study, wondering whether Mingi was okay while they weren't talking...

Unable to sleep through his hormonal phase of overdrive, dumping his clothes in the corner, showering in the cold and forcing his window open to freeze over his sink...

There were so many memories these walls held, but the ones that stood out the most in that moment, staring at his ceiling, were the ones around the time when he'd finally come to realise and accept the fact that he'd missed Mingi. He'd missed being around him, seeing him, talking to him, and getting to be a part of his life.

And even after they'd started talking again—after they'd even started seeing one another—before things had become official, he remembered how torturous those nights here in this room had felt.