Stray Kids Oneshots

★ ∂เε ωเƭɦ α รɱเℓε ★ (minsung)

Words: 2643
Ship: minsung
Consists of: angst, character death

Grab a tissue or two...

For context: Jisung was in the hospital up until two weeks ago, where he was adamant on going home with Minho because he knew he wasn't gonna get any better and didn't wanna waste time being in a hospital.

★

Jisung sat in his favorite chair by the window, the warmth of the setting sun casting a gentle glow on his face. He had always loved this time of day, the way the light danced across the room, painting everything in shades of gold and pink. His eyes were closed, his breaths shallow, but there was a peace to him that had been missing for a long time.

Minho entered the room quietly, not wanting to disturb the serenity that had settled over his partner. He walked over to Jisung, taking his hand in his own, feeling the coolness that was a stark contrast to the warmth of the sun outside. He knew what was coming, had known for a while now, but that didn't make it any easier.

Jisung's eyes fluttered open, and he offered a weak smile that seemed to light up the room more than the sun ever could. "You're here," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

Minho nodded, his own smile trembling as he squeezed Jisung's hand. "Always," he said, his voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill. He sat on the edge of the chair, leaning in so their foreheads touched.

The room was filled with the soft sounds of their breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. They had shared so much in this apartment, from their first awkward kiss in the kitchen to the endless nights spent researching treatments and whispering hopeful dreams of the future. Now, it seemed, that future was slipping away.

Jisung's grip tightened slightly on Minho's hand, and he opened his eyes again. "Thank you," he said, his voice stronger than before. "For everything."

Minho leaned in closer, his heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a vice. "You don't have to thank me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm just doing what anyone would do for the person they love."

Jisung's smile grew a fraction wider. "But not everyone is as strong as you," he replied, his eyes shining with a gentle warmth. "You've been my rock through all of this."

Minho swallowed hard, fighting back the sob that wanted to escape. "You're the strong one," he said, his thumb stroking the back of Jisung's hand. "You've fought so hard."

Jisung's smile was knowing. "But we both know that strength comes in many forms," he said, his eyes drifting to the photo of them on the windowsill. It was from their trip to the beach, the one where Minho had carried him into the water because he was too tired to walk. "You've given me so much strength."

Minho's vision blurred as he looked at the photo too, remembering the joy on Jisung's face as the waves lapped at their legs. "I just want you to be okay," he said, his voice cracking.

Jisung's eyes never left the photo. "I am," he said firmly. "I've had a good life, Minho. And you've made it better than I ever could have imagined."

Minho's grip on Jisung's hand grew tighter as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions. "Don't say that," he pleaded. "We're going to beat this."

But Jisung's eyes remained steady on the horizon. "No, Minho," he said gently. "It's time for me to go."

Minho felt his heart plummet, the words a knife twisting in his chest. "No," he said again, his voice a desperate whisper. "Please, no."