𓊆ྀི۫ ̣̣̥ ݂ ⑅ unseen pain 𓏽ִ minsung

𝟏𝟕. // the session

Tired.

That's how Lee Minho felt as he sat before the therapist, his shoulders sagging under the weight of invisible burdens. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic ticking of a clock, counting down the minutes of his session. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the leather creaking softly beneath him.

"It..." he began, his voice barely above a whisper. He gulped thickly, feeling his chest tighten as if an iron fist had wrapped itself around his lungs. "It feels like my body is fighting to survive, whilst my mind just wants to give up." Minho's gaze dropped to his lap, where his hands fidgeted restlessly. He bit his bottom lip, a futile attempt to hold back the tide of emotions threatening to spill over.

The therapist, Dr. Kim, leaned forward slightly, her eyes filled with concern and empathy. She had seen this struggle before, the internal war that left her patients feeling drained and hopeless. "It's so draining," Minho continued, his voice cracking. "All I want is to not be alive anymore, but something won't let me."

Dr. Kim took a moment before responding, choosing her words carefully. "Have you been taking your medication lately?"

Minho's silence spoke volumes, but he eventually muttered, "No, they make me feel empty. I hate everything about it—"

"Minho," Dr. Kim interjected gently but firmly, "they are important for your depression, please. You shouldn't give up on them, nor yourself."

Minho's eyes flickered with a mixture of defiance and resignation. "It's the same," he said blankly. "Nothing has changed."

"What about people? Have you met new ones lately? Gone anywhere?" Dr. Kim probed, hoping to find a spark, a glimmer of something that could reignite his will to live.

Minho remained silent for a moment, his mind wandering to the memory of a recent encounter. The image of a boy with bright eyes and a warm smile flashed before him—Jisung, the squirrel-looking boy who had entered his life unexpectedly.

"Well," Minho started, a sigh escaping his lips, "I have met a friend, Jisung."

Dr. Kim's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "Really?" she asked, a smile spreading across her lips. Minho nodded slowly, the corners of his own mouth twitching slightly. "I'm happy for you, and proud of you."

The room fell silent again, but this time it was a softer, more comfortable silence. For the first time in a long while, Minho felt a flicker of something—something that resembled hope. He wasn't sure where this path would lead, but for now, the image of Jisung's smile was enough to keep him moving forward, one step at a time.

(a/n)

Super short chapter but wtv I guess !!