You are quite like a wilted flower,
neglected,
dried out,
and crumbled into pieces.
But, why did you still catch my attention with that beyond-belief beauty of yours?
All you need is a little love to bloom,
a little care to grow colorful,
and a litt...
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IX: Wilted Flower
Surface and Depth | The contrast between the outward enjoyment and the hidden struggles of a character.
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The day continued with the usual rhythm of classes, assignments, and the occasional chatter that filled the hallways.
Minho found himself lost in thought more than once, his mind circling back to the conversation he'd had with Iris that morning.
Her curiosity about his past had stirred up old memories and fears he usually kept buried deep. Yet, there was also something oddly liberating about sharing that part of himself with her.
By lunchtime, he realized he hadn't been paying much attention in class. He had scribbled absent-minded doodles in his notebook—small sketches of flowers, abstract shapes, and a name repeated several times: Hyunjin.
He sighed, closing the notebook as he headed to the cafeteria. The familiar buzz of clinking dishes and lively chatter filled the air, but Minho felt slightly detached, like he was observing the world through a hazy filter.
"Minho, are you alright?" Iris asked, her voice cutting through the noise of the bustling cafeteria as she walked beside him.
She had noticed his distant expression in class, his head buried in his notebook, the pen clutched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles had turned white.
"Hm?" Minho glanced at her, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"I said, are you okay?" she repeated, her tone firmer this time.
"Oh, yeah. Just peachy," Minho replied with a nod, though his response lacked conviction.
"You seemed miles away in class. I think I learned more in one period than you did all day," she teased, hoping to coax a smile out of him.
Minho's lips twitched into a faint grin. "Then you better be ready to explain all that crap to me later, cause I didn't understand a damn thing."
Iris chuckled softly, recognizing the deflection in his humor. She sensed he wasn't in the mood to unpack whatever was weighing on his mind and decided not to push further, for now.
