𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 - a medicine for sorrow. It is a place, person, or thing, which can aid in forgetting your pain and suffering.
With two brothers, she has always lived in the same house. And always, they had the same neighbors. The same boy with wh...
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Knowing Minho, there's two ways the aftermath of this can go.
One, he goes back to the person he was before he started trying with Evie. The person he was before Aris arrived.
Two, he becomes the best version of himself. The version he would've become if Evie had been here.
But she's not, so it's up to him whether he locks himself in and becomes... rude again, or if he becomes even better than he was.
I hope it's the second one.
So far, he's just been very quiet. It's been three days since it happened. I try not to think about it too much. Every time I do, my heart aches. Whenever I try to sleep at night—even in the arms of Thomas—my mind makes up "what ifs" and "who did it" and "why Evie" because Evie never did anything wrong.
Christmas is tomorrow. I really hope we can make something out of it. Mostly, I hope Minho cheers up a bit. I've got presents for him that I'm sure he'll like.
And we'll just have to act normal, because things will only get worse if we baby him.
"Hi." I sit down next to him. He has a bowl of cereal in front of him but he's not really eating. I don't know how much he has eaten the last days, but it's not a lot.
"Hi."
It sounds cold, yet I can't worry that he goes for the first option just yet. Everything is still too fresh.
"Do you want to go do some last minute Christmas shopping?" I carefully ask.
He shakes his head. Rubs his eyelids, which are puffed from not sleeping and crying.
"Or we can visit Cynthia, her grandma. She's with Thomas, isn't she?"
"No."
So I give up and grab myself something to eat, too. Fifth failed attempt of getting Minho to do an activity with me. Maybe tomorrow before Christmas Eve, I'll succeed.
"How are you okay so fast?" He then asks.
"I'm not okay," I say. "Not at all. But I'm trying to be okay and that helps, even though it only improves tiny little bits every day."
"I don't think I'll ever be okay."
"Eventually, you will be."
"I don't think I'll ever fall in love again."
"It just happens. You don't always have a choice. And it's fine if you do, it's fine if you don't."
"I don't think I'll ever dare to fall in love again."
"Minho—" I try, but I don't know what to say next.
He lowers his head. It's silent for a good few minutes as I eat and he stares at the ground.
