LOSE MY BREATH

LMB 7

7: Handsome lad from another dimension.

Minho, judging from the way the man gripped his sword with a strength made for crushing a demon, hated what Jisung was doing.

“You do not focus on learning,” He said again for the tenth time that day and it's only ten minutes. “But on seeking attention.”

“Trust me, Minho, when you are swinging your sword at me, there’s nothing else I have time to focus on,” Jisung replied, laughing.

It wasn’t even a lie; often it was even better when it was Minho’s eyes on him rather than any other person’s. The intensity of Minho was absolutely unparalleled. Whenever that golden gaze was on him, it was like Jisung was thoroughly perceived. Like Minho saw through him; right to the core.

It was exciting.

So he spent evenings under that gaze, egging it on with provocations and teasing and laughter. Minho, for all of his integrity and backbone, seemed helpless to do anything but take the impertinence and respond to it by either ignoring or chastening him. Neither worked.

Since Jisung's attention was on Minho, everyone else got off easy and Minho wasn’t having any of it.

At least by the time of their dinner, Minho was usually so done with Jisung that he spent hours meditating. One more thing that was insane about the people in there was they could sit in a place for ages, not thinking. Being in the present and mindful.

Jisung had attempted meditation once, but that was in the year that fidget spinners were all over the place, and he reasoned that since he was going to be doing a lot of boring things, he might as well multitask.

Back then, he had more patience than he would now, as he waited for Minho to gather his peace of mind or whatever.

“I think your tactic is bad.” Jisung called from his room, where Minho had banished him for attempting to sit in his lap while meditating. “I’m not going to be any less annoying just because you turn off your brain and breathe slowly for an hour.”

There was no reply.

“Minho, this whole ‘Ignoring Jisung’ business is bad for my health.” He tried, "Did you know that the average attention span for me has dropped dramatically? This is basically discrimination. Using my weaknesses against me.”

No reply.

“Fine, you know what? I’ll go bother someone else. I am sure there are people who would like to speak with a real twenty-first-century boy from another world." Jisung stated. He jumped from the bed and headed to the door, but it was opened before he reached it.

If a blank face could look annoyed, this one definitely did.

“Jisung is not permitted to leave without an escort,” Minho said.

“Maybe Minho should escort me, then.” Jisung replied, pouting. “To someone who appreciates me more.”

“Who would that be?”

“At this point, it seems literally anyone outside of the Geumgangsan! You can choose. I’m not picky.” He gave a reply, then snorted at Minho's icily cold expression.

“Clearly.” The tone of that voice matched the look. Then, surprisingly, “Fine.”

“What? You’ll really take me to someone else?”

“Mn.”

Jisung’s smile widened, looking past his shoulders while jumping. “So? Who are you taking me to?”

“Uncle,” Minho said, and Jisung’s smile froze.

There was a long moment of intense eye contact, but Jisung had learned from the first night that Minho was not someone to change mind. He sighed, raising his hands.

“Fine, I will stay here in my little room, leading a miserable life like Cinderella.” He said, flopping back to the bed doing a dramatic pose like he was a damsel in distress.

“Oh poor thing Jisung. Your attention seeker span will die a slow death in the silence of Minho’s guestroom. Ah my dear Minho! Just dump my withered body down the mountain to Seoul in a year.”

Minho sighed. He did that a lot, now, too. Sighing like a heartbroken maiden. “If Jisung finds himself idle, he could copy the rules again.” He suggested.

Jisung got irritated. “Minho, I am truly asking this with complete sincerity; do you hate me?”

It was obviously a joke when the question was posed, but Minho answered honestly, looking at him with a genuine expression. “I do not.”

Jisung may have died as a result of heart palpitations. He clutched his chest. “Ah! Minho, warn a man! You can’t just say these things!”

Another sigh, this time a little less irritated. “Jisung may join me for tea if he wishes.”

“Sure!” He replied. “Although, really, Minho. If you think it is too much that I am here in Geumgangsan with you, I could always move to one of the dorms you have for disciples."

This made Minho, who had turned around for the tea, pause. When he did that, he looked like an ice statue, with white hanfu draped over him and motionless as marble.

"I know I do not show it, but it is not really fair that you ended up with me just because we had that fateful meeting or whatever," Jisung said. “If you’re really having a hard time, I can go. I’d buy you one of those mindfulness colouring books as thanks if they sold them here.”

“No need.” Minho said then. "I promised you a house. I would not make a promise that I did not intend to keep.

Jisung could feel the relief rush through him. He was not particularly concerned, but all of his meditating had begun to take its toll. And meditating was supposed to help you relax, ha!

“Oh, thank god.” Jisung said. "I would have been bored out there without you. Also, since I mentioned it, even if I could have bought you that colouring book, I would have most likely given it to you half-filled. "They are pretty neat, aren't they?"

“I do not know what that is.” Minho said. “Will you have Yulmu-cha or Ssanghwa-cha?”

“Either one is cool. A colouring book is a book filled with pictures that you’re supposed to colour. With...oh my god, you don’t have pens here! Minho! You only have ink and paint! Oh, I bet that’s so expensive.”

“Mn. Sit down.”

So Jisung did and then started explaining Minho the concept of a marker pen. And Minho sat with him and drank tea. Not meditating for the rest of the evening.