nurse's office | minsung ✓

33

The weight of the approaching bar exam pressed heavily on Jisung's shoulders as he stared blankly at his open laptop, the words blurring together on the screen. Notes, case studies, legal theories—all of it jumbled into an indistinguishable mess in his mind. His chest felt tight, like a coil wound up too tightly, ready to snap. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus, but nothing worked.

Two weeks left. Just two more weeks, and then it would all be over.

But that thought wasn't comforting. If anything, it only made his anxiety worse. Every passing second was a reminder that time was slipping through his fingers. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots in frustration, desperately searching for some sense of control, some foothold to keep him from tumbling further into panic.

"Jisung?"

Minho's voice drifted in from the hallway, soft and gentle, like a lifeline in the middle of a storm. Jisung looked up, startled, realizing that his hands were trembling slightly on the keyboard. He quickly pulled them away, clenching his fists in his lap as if that could stop the shaking. Minho stepped into the room, his eyes instantly honing in on Jisung's slumped form.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Minho asked, concern evident in his gaze.

"Nothing," Jisung mumbled automatically, his voice strained. "I'm just—just going through my notes."

Minho didn't respond immediately, just looked at him with that familiar, knowing expression. Then, he crossed the small distance between them and knelt down beside Jisung's chair, resting a hand on his knee. "It's more than that," Minho murmured softly. "I can see it in your eyes."

Jisung swallowed hard, his throat dry. He wanted to deny it, wanted to brush it off like he always did, but Minho's steady gaze made the words stick in his throat. The frustration, the exhaustion, the overwhelming fear—it all came crashing down at once, like a tidal wave too powerful to hold back any longer.

"I—" His voice cracked. "I don't think I can do this, Minho."

Minho's grip on his knee tightened slightly, his thumb brushing gently against the fabric of Jisung's sweatpants. "Why do you think that?" he asked quietly.

"Because—because it's too much," Jisung admitted, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Every time I sit down to study, it's like my brain just... shuts off. I can't concentrate. I can't remember anything. I—" He took a shuddering breath, fighting to keep the tears at bay. "What if I mess up? What if I fail?"

Minho's expression softened, and he slowly rose to his feet, pulling Jisung up along with him. "Come here," he murmured, guiding Jisung away from the desk and toward the couch. "You need a break."

Jisung shook his head, resisting. "No, I can't—I don't have time for a break. I have to—"

"Yes, you do," Minho interrupted gently but firmly, not letting go of his hand. "If you keep pushing yourself like this, you're going to burn out before you even get to the exam."

The words hit a nerve, and Jisung felt something inside him crumble. He let Minho lead him to the couch, collapsing onto the cushions with a heavy sigh. His hands came up to cover his face, and for a moment, he just sat there, his heart pounding in his chest as the fear clawed at him from the inside.

Minho sat down beside him, close enough that their knees brushed. He didn't say anything, just reached out and pulled Jisung into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around him securely. Jisung stiffened at first, but then he melted into the warmth, his head resting on Minho's shoulder. The familiar scent of Minho's cologne washed over him, soothing some of the raw edges of his panic.

"Breathe," Minho whispered softly, his voice a steady rhythm in Jisung's ear. "Just breathe."

Jisung closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of Minho's heartbeat, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, the tightness in his chest began to ease, the shaking in his hands lessening bit by bit. Minho didn't rush him, didn't push him to speak. He just held him, his fingers gently stroking Jisung's back in slow, comforting motions.

After what felt like an eternity, Jisung finally found his voice again. "I'm scared," he confessed in a small, broken whisper. "What if I'm not good enough? What if I can't—"

"Hey, stop that." Minho pulled back slightly, just enough to look Jisung in the eyes. "You are good enough, Jisung. You've worked so hard for this. I've seen you put in countless hours, day after day. You're more than capable."

"But what if I mess up?" Jisung insisted, his voice trembling. "What if—"

"Then it's okay," Minho interrupted gently, cupping Jisung's cheek with one hand. "If something doesn't go perfectly, it's not the end of the world. You'll still be Jisung. You'll still have everything you've accomplished. One exam doesn't define who you are."

Jisung's breath hitched, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But I—I want to make you proud," he whispered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Minho's gaze softened, a tender smile tugging at his lips. "You already do," he murmured. "Every single day."

The sincerity in Minho's voice made Jisung's chest tighten for an entirely different reason. He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears, but they spilled over anyway, trailing down his cheeks in silent streams. Minho wiped them away gently, his thumb brushing against Jisung's skin in a feather-light touch.

"I believe in you, Jisung," Minho whispered, his voice steady and unwavering. "And no matter what happens, I'll be here. Right by your side."

The promise in those words wrapped around Jisung like a warm blanket, filling the empty spaces inside him with something soft and comforting. He let out a shaky breath, leaning into Minho's touch, the fear still lingering but no longer overwhelming.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice raw but sincere.

Minho just smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Anytime, Jisung. Anytime."

They stayed like that for a while, the world outside fading away as they sat together on the couch. For the first time in days, Jisung allowed himself to just be, without the weight of expectations crushing down on him. And with Minho's arms around him, the fear didn't seem quite so insurmountable.

Two weeks left. It still felt daunting, but maybe—just maybe—he could make it through.

With Minho by his side, anything felt possible.

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