𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥 || 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒈(𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕) || 𝐒𝐊𝐙

01.

You can hate a ferris wheel for numerous reasons, height, speed because it’s too slow and to be stuck with someone you’re uncomfortable with because of your truly bad luck. If that’s not typical Han, then what is?

But you can also love ferris wheel for numerous reasons, height, speed because it gives enough time and having to spend that time with someone you’ve been crushing over for a year now, a cute little junior from school. And if that's not typical Minho, then what is?

Han really doesn’t understand the reason for him to be uncomfortable with minho. As back as their relationship goes, he could only remember Minho being one of the sweetest people he had ever met. But maybe he was so used to dealing with uncomfortable people in the past that Minho seemed too out of his box for him.

“Are you okay with the height, jisung?”, Minho pats han thigh. Han looks at his hand, beautifully carved like a sculpture made by god himself, even the pale texture, resembles the white stone used for sculpting. He couldn’t fathom the thought of having someone way out of his league as someone he could be friends with. He removes Minho's hand from his thigh as an excuse of rubbing his own thigh, “a little bit, maybe”. He laughs dryly.

Minho pursues his lips into a thin smile, looking outside. A realm of awkwardness sphered their atmosphere. Minho would love to take their friendship to the next level. He would love to make Han his, love to hug him every morning they met at school and every evening they had to depart from school, he’d love to try things with him that he has only seen or read about. He'd love to devote all his firsts to Han.

On the other hand, han still contemplates over the tag of friendship, if it suited for their relationship. Of course, he’d love to be Minho's friend, anyone would love to be Minho’s friend. But he was scared. He was scared of being rejected, of not being equal enough to be Lee Minho’s friend. He’s scared to be the stain on Minho’s white shirt. He’s was scared to face the Minho behind the physical attributes. What if minho bullies him? What he minho hits him? Will he be able to hit him back or defend himself like he did for the past 15 years?

Pause. Han’s brain freezes, he revives his thoughts. Why would he not be able to fight Minho back? Why would he not be able to defend himself? Why would being against Minho restrain him from doing so? He feels his brain cracking, the weight of which dangles down as he holds it with his hands, elbows propped on his thighs. He closes his eyes, black, jet black,  just like the colour of Minho's eyes- what? No. he shakes his head, eyebrows skiing from either side as the headache gets better of him.

Minho hands helplessly dance in the air as he was unable to comprehend what he was dealing with. He was only 17 afterall. He brings his hands to hold jisung’s head, but pauses, thinking about the prior incident, how with his touch, he immediately let uncomfort lather.
He calls him,  “Jisung?” “Hannie?” “Han?” “Han Jisung?”, the names become more formal with the increasing time.

After what feels like eternity, jisung opens his eyes, eyes sunken down, almost on the verge of tears as he looks at the older, whose horrified face, elevates into a further level of horror as he stares at Han's teary eyes.

“Hannie?”, he cups Han’s face, consciousness leaving his body as he notices Han’s glassy eyes. He immediately reacts by embracing Han with his arms, shaking the cabinet minutely.

Tears that are yet to be named, snakes down Han’s face, fusing with the pink fabric of Minho's shirt. Han wants answers for the tears, for why Minho was different. As for Minho, he would love the answers for Han's sudden outbreak. But he only caresses Han's back, speaking once in a while like , “it’s going to be okay”, “don’t cry”, “i’m here”.