The Mannequin - Minsung

THE END

Years passed, quietly and steadily. It wasn't always easy—life rarely was—but somehow, Minho and Jisung found a way to move forward, together. Slowly, piece by piece, they healed.

Jisung, once trapped by a curse that had turned him into a mannequin whenever fear gripped him, learned what it meant to live without constantly looking over his shoulder.

He wasn't alone anymore—he had people who cared, who gave him life in more ways than magic ever could.

Minho, on the other hand, had his own battle: the constant fear of losing those he loved. But Jisung never left. Even when life got messy, Jisung was there, stubbornly sticking by his side.

Their friends played a huge part in that journey.

Hyunjin, ever the dramatic soul, often dragged them out of their comfort zone, insisting they join him for random adventures—midnight drives, spontaneous beach trips, even a dance class or two.

"Come on, you two! Live a little!" Hyunjin had shouted one night as they drove along the coast, the wind whipping through their hair.

"Hyunjin, it's two in the morning," Minho grumbled, half-asleep in the back seat.

"And the perfect time for ice cream!" Hyunjin said, grinning wildly.

Jisung laughed, leaning into Minho's side. "He's got a point. Midnight ice cream sounds kinda magical."

Minho sighed but smiled. "Fine. But you owe me coffee tomorrow."

Seungmin, with his sharp wit and sarcasm, had a way of making them laugh when things felt too heavy.

Jeongin, ever the optimist, always had something encouraging to say.

Chan, Felix, and Changbin? They were the glue that held their little circle together. Chan's quiet wisdom guided them through tough times, while Felix's warm smile and knack for baking filled their days with sweetness.

And Changbin? Well, he was always there to remind them that no matter how serious things got, life was meant to be lived fully and loudly.

The apartment had changed, too. It was no longer the cluttered, mismatched space it once was.

Now, it felt like a home—a reflection of everything they had built.

Every piece of furniture told a story, from the couch that Jisung accidentally painted neon yellow, to the paintings Minho had created of Jisung ever since.

Even Soonie, their once-imagined cat, had become a real part of their lives. He now claimed every sunlit patch of the apartment as his own, often curling up on Jisung's lap while Minho worked nearby.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

One rainy afternoon, Minho was sitting by the window, watching the rain slide down the glass. 

Jisung plopped down next to him, holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He handed one to Minho and nudged him gently with his shoulder.

"You okay?" Jisung asked, his voice soft.

Minho nodded but didn't say much. He took a sip of the hot chocolate and let the warmth spread through him.

Jisung leaned closer, resting his head on Minho's shoulder. "You get quiet when it rains."

"Just thinking," Minho mumbled. "About... everything. You, me, life."

Jisung tilted his head up. "You overthink too much," he whispered, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Minho smiled faintly, turning his head to kiss Jisung's forehead. "Maybe. But thinking about you isn't so bad."

Jisung was quiet for a moment. Then he smiled. 

"I think we did it,"  he said, staring out the window.

"Hm? Did what?"

"Built something. A life, I guess." Jisung smiled softly. 

"There were times I didn't think I'd get this far. I thought I'd always be stuck... like that... as a mannequin, you know? Frozen. But now... I don't know, it feels different. Like I can actually breathe."

Minho didn't say anything right away. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Jisung's shoulders. "Yeah. We built something. And we didn't do it alone."

They both knew that without their friends, none of this would have been possible.

There were days when Minho couldn't pull himself out of his anxiety, afraid that something—anything—could go wrong.

On those days, it was Jisung who stayed close, quietly offering comfort.

And when Jisung's past crept up on him, threatening to drag him back into that cursed fear of turning lifeless once again, Minho reminded him that he was real, alive, and safe.

They had built something real—something worth holding on to, even when things got tough.

Minho kissed Jisung's lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "We'll keep building, okay?"

Jisung nodded, leaning into him. "Together."

"I love you, Jisung."

"I love you more, my Minho."

- THE END -

So sorry for the months of no updates ToT

I've been so busy and I couldn't find time to even start writing

Anyway, yes... It's finally the end ToT

Sorry if it's quite fast paced. I really want to update my other stories now guys ToT

Thanks to everyone who stuck around till the end <3

Please stay tuned because I will finally be updating "The Colors of Love"