The Weight of Goodbye || minsung

the meeting

The city lights flickered in the rain as Han Jisung ducked into the warm, crowded bar. The kind of place that promised anonymity—a haven from everything waiting outside, at least for tonight. His friends had dragged him here, promising a good time, and while he wasn't entirely convinced, the weight of his own thoughts felt lighter surrounded by the hum of other voices.

Jisung settled at a table, nursing his drink as he took in the space. The air was thick with laughter, and the beat of the music seemed to pulse through him, loosening the tension he hadn't even realized he was holding.

But then, he noticed him.

Across the room, leaning casually against the bar with a quiet confidence that seemed to radiate, was Lee Minho. His dark hair fell just above his eyes, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he talked to a friend beside him. Something about the way he held himself felt magnetic, pulling Jisung's attention in a way he hadn't expected.

Jisung tried to look away, to dismiss it as a passing glance. But as if sensing his gaze, Minho's eyes met his. The world seemed to slow, the edges of reality softening until it was just the two of them, locked in that single moment. Minho didn't look away. Instead, his smirk deepened, and he raised an eyebrow, as if challenging Jisung to keep looking.

Heat rose to Jisung's cheeks, and he quickly looked down, trying to steady his heartbeat. "It's just a stranger," he reminded himself. "Someone you'll probably never see again."

Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was different. That Lee Minho was different.

Several minutes passed, and Jisung tried his best to ignore the occasional glances in Minho's direction. But it seemed fate had other plans. He felt a presence beside him, and there he was—Minho, standing close enough that Jisung could feel the warmth radiating from him.

"Mind if I sit?" Minho's voice was low and smooth, each word somehow coaxing Jisung's heartbeat faster.

"Uh, sure." Jisung's voice came out shakier than he intended, and he mentally cursed himself for it. He took a steadying breath as Minho slid into the seat across from him, watching him with an intensity that was as unnerving as it was captivating.

"Jisung, right?" Minho's eyes sparkled with something unreadable. "We have some mutual friends."

"Oh?" Jisung tried to sound casual, but he could already feel himself getting lost in Minho's gaze.

"Yeah," Minho replied, his voice dipping into a playful tone. "They told me to keep an eye on you. Said you have a habit of disappearing on nights like these."

Jisung chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I'm just not the party type."

"Not tonight, anyway," Minho replied, leaning forward just a bit, enough for Jisung to catch the faintest whiff of his cologne—a warm, comforting scent with just a hint of spice.

They fell into a surprisingly easy conversation, the initial tension gradually dissolving into something more comfortable. Minho had a way of drawing Jisung out of his shell, making him forget his usual hesitations. They talked about everything from music to dreams, each word carrying them further away from the noise of the bar and closer to something intimate, something unspoken.

Hours later, Jisung barely noticed that most of the crowd had thinned out. The bar was quieter now, but he and Minho were still caught in their own little world. When he finally checked the time, a pang of regret hit him. "It's late," he murmured, not really wanting to leave but knowing he should.

"Let me walk you home," Minho offered, his eyes softening as he looked at Jisung.

They walked in comfortable silence, the city lights casting a warm glow over the quiet streets. The rain had stopped, leaving a fresh, lingering scent in the air. As they reached Jisung's building, he hesitated, not quite ready for the night to end.

"Thanks," Jisung finally said, meeting Minho's gaze. "For...tonight."

Minho's smirk softened into something more sincere. "You don't need to thank me. I wanted to be here."

There was a pause, a heavy, charged silence that seemed to fill the space between them. Without thinking, Jisung took a small step closer, his eyes searching Minho's. He could feel the rapid beat of his own heart, the electricity crackling in the air.

And then, in a single, breathless moment, Minho closed the distance. Their lips met in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters of something new and unknown. But then it deepened, a rush of warmth and intensity that left them both breathless. It was a promise, an unspoken vow that neither of them fully understood yet.

When they finally pulled away, Jisung was almost dizzy, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts and emotions. Minho looked at him, a soft smile playing on his lips, as if he'd been waiting for this moment just as much.

"Goodnight, Jisung," Minho whispered, his voice barely above a breath, and with one last lingering look, he turned and disappeared into the night.

Jisung stood there for a moment, caught between disbelief and a rush of emotion that left him wanting more. He touched his lips, still feeling the warmth of Minho's kiss, and smiled to himself.

As he turned and headed inside, he knew his life had just shifted. Something had started tonight, something that was bound to be beautiful, complicated, and perhaps, even a little bit dangerous.