𝐌𝐈𝐙𝐏𝐀𝐇 - TMR, Minho

𝟢𝟤𝟣，𝐡𝐚𝐡𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫

He looks somewhat peaceful, even days after the real incident. His clothes are clean. The wound on his head is stitched. We make sure he gets fed.

So if you'd see him, you'd think he's just asleep. I wish he was.

Days have become boring. My constant overthinking and worrying about Minho costed me my job at the Bloodhouse. Winston doesn't allow me in until I act normal.

Because the day after Minho's incident, everything went wrong. I zoned out, tons of times, which caused me to almost cut Winston into pieces when he suddenly appeared next to me. Then, a rush of anger towards whoever put us here flew through me, and I demolished one of the animals. Blood was everywhere and the flesh was inedible just because I slammed my knife down wherever I could.

I feel really bad for wasting and hurting an animal like that, but it happened how it happened and I can't do anything about it.

My hand shakes as I dab some water on his lips with a towel. They won't get dry like this. Will make him more comfortable when he wakes up.

Jeff and Clint are already asleep. It's late at night. I've spent most days by Minho's side— well, every second of the day, actually. My body aches from sitting on this chair, but it's nothing compared to the pain he must be feeling.

"Here." I take the paper butterfly out of my pocket. I was lucky to find it in the pocket of his bloody jeans before the Sloppers—a job given to those who aren't good at the other things—washed them. "It's currently in your possession."

After putting it in the pocket of his clean jeans, I lean backwards, sighing. Another night on this chair sounds like hell. Another sleepless night.

There is a bed right in front of me, though. There is plenty of room for the two of us, especially because Minho is still as thin as a stick.

My body has definitely changed in the past months, though. It's not very nice. Minho's elbow once hit my chest as we were teasing around a bit and my reaction made him scared to touch me for at least three days.

I get up with slight hesitation, softly pushing him to the side to make room for myself. I don't think he'll get mad if he happens to wake up to this. Minho likes physical touch, even though he doesn't admit it.

"Good night," I whisper before closing my eyes.

★

My eyes peel open at the rough movements beside me. Confused for a second, I blink against daylight that feels very bright.

Then, with a thud, my nose slams against something solid. The floor.

A wince escapes me as blood rapidly drops down my face. "Minho?" I groan, standing up.

He's sitting on the bed, his eyes on me, filled with some kind of look I can't place. "Who are you?" He snaps.

I stare at him, then sit down on the bed. "Zee, obviously. Sorry for scaring you. Are you okay? How are you feeling? God, I'm so happy you're awake."