LOSE MY BREATH

LMB 30

30: Turmoil.

The spring back home had always been a bit of an inconsistent bastard. One day it was sunny and bright, the air smelling a little something like hope after a long rainy winter. Then the next day that long rainy winter was back with twice the force.

In the cultivation world, the spring felt like a storybook version of the real thing. The snow melted, days got warmer, birds started singing and the sky looked clear like glass. The change in general atmosphere in the Geumgangsan wasn’t quite tangible, but there was something there.

If they were modern people, this would be the time they would start installing dating apps on the phones again. Since it wasn’t the case, it was more likely to see two Lee disciples dancing around each other like the world's most shy teenagers. Which they probably were, upon seeing that in front of him. 

Jisung loved to jump in and ruin the fun for everyone.

“So how long have you two been together?”

The two disciplines before him turned the color of Jisung’s breakfast congee. They were probably in their early twenties, absolutely not in their teens but not quite old enough to warrant any extra bowing and pleasantries.

Old enough to hold hands publicly, probably.

“A-ah! Master Han, you’ve misunderstood,” said one of them, the one with a sharp chin and high nose.

“We are, um, we are friends,” the other explained. This one was so red he was starting to resemble a stop sign. “Close confidants.”

“Oh, I see.” Jisung tapped his cheek thoughtfully. “Only, I thought I saw your faces very close to each other just now.”

The red one squirmed. The sharp-chinned one raised said sharp chin in what was clearly more brave than actual defiance.

“We were speaking of private matters,” he stated.

Jisung nodded in a very understanding manner. “I see, I see. It is more useful to whisper at one’s ears rather than their mouth, though.”

“That’s, um, that’s,” stuttered Red Face. Then he threw a helpless look at the sharp-chinned one.

“Perhaps Master Han saw something wrong,” Sharp-Chin said. “In any case, there’s nothing here to discuss.”

Jisung raised his hand in a pacifying gesture. "Certainly, of course! I would never question the words of an honorable Lee!"

Then he turned to smile at the red one, the weak link. He heard the outraged gasp of Sharp-Chin as he leaned close into the personal space of the blushing guy. “Then it would be fine to ask him out, right?”

“I- I– u-um.”

“Jisung,” came a deep voice behind him, and dammit, what were the chances?

Jisung tensed and grimaced, but when he turned to meet Minho's cool gaze, he was already smiling.

Things between them had been tense ever since they returned from the night-hunt, in which Jisung's hopes had been dashed.

They acted like it was fine, of course. Jisung still chatted a lot about everyone and everything, still poked and teased Minho like nothing was wrong, still invaded his space in his usual shameless manner. And Minho would listen and nod and sigh like always.

But now the little pauses between topics felt loaded, like if the next step landed wrong, the fragile thing between them would shatter into a million sharp pieces and burrow into their skins.

There was this constant prickle behind his ribs, an awareness of the time ticking by. The moments passed so quickly and without care for his wants that it was like trying to hold onto the droplet of water in the ocean.