The Weight of Goodbye || minsung

first glances, first words

The following days felt like a fever dream for Jisung. Every mundane moment seemed colored by memories of that night—the warmth of Minho's touch, the way his voice had wrapped around him like a soft promise. It all felt too surreal, too good to be real.

He tried to push the thoughts away, to tell himself that it was just a chance encounter. But it was no use. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still feel the lingering taste of Minho's kiss, the way it had left him craving more.

And then, just when he was starting to convince himself that he wouldn't see Minho again, fate decided to intervene.

It was late afternoon when Jisung arrived at the small café near his apartment, a regular spot he often visited for coffee and a bit of quiet. But today, as he entered, he nearly froze. There, at a corner table, was Minho, sitting with his usual air of quiet confidence, a book open in front of him.

As if sensing Jisung's gaze, Minho looked up, a flicker of recognition passing over his features. His lips curled into that same smirk, the one that seemed to hold secrets only he knew.

"Well, look who decided to drop by," Minho said as Jisung walked over, unable to resist the invisible pull drawing him closer.

"I could say the same to you," Jisung replied, trying to keep his tone casual despite the way his heart was hammering. "Do you live around here?"

Minho shrugged, closing his book and leaning back in his chair. "Sort of. I like to change up my scenery every now and then." He motioned to the seat across from him, silently inviting Jisung to sit.

For a moment, Jisung hesitated, unsure if he should join or keep his distance. But something in Minho's gaze dared him to take the plunge, to let himself fall a little deeper. He slid into the seat, his eyes never leaving Minho's.

"So," Minho began, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the table, "did you manage to escape the 'party life' after the other night?"

Jisung chuckled, shaking his head. "Barely. My friends were relentless. But honestly...I'm glad I stayed."

Minho's expression softened. "Me too."

A comfortable silence settled over them, neither of them needing words to fill the space. Jisung found himself studying Minho's face, the way his dark eyes held a spark that hinted at hidden stories, a past he kept close to his chest. He wanted to ask, to dig deeper, but something held him back. There was a vulnerability there, one he recognized all too well.

"So, do you come here often?" Jisung asked, trying to distract himself from the urge to reach out, to close the gap between them.

Minho chuckled, his gaze never wavering. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just here because I thought you might be."

Jisung's cheeks flushed, a warm rush of disbelief mixed with excitement. He tried to stammer out a reply, but Minho only laughed, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Relax," Minho said, his tone teasing yet reassuring. "I'm just messing with you. But...I'm glad we ran into each other again."

There was something in the way Minho looked at him, a softness that made Jisung's heart ache in the best way possible. He felt a pull toward Minho that went beyond simple attraction—something deeper, almost as if they were two pieces meant to collide, to test each other's limits.

"Tell me something about you, Jisung," Minho said, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Something no one else knows."

The request caught Jisung off guard, and he hesitated, feeling the weight of the question. He could brush it off, make a joke, but something told him Minho was genuine, that he truly wanted to know him.

"Alright," Jisung murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced down at his hands, gathering his thoughts. "I guess... I tend to hide. Not just from parties, but from people. From letting anyone get close." He paused, feeling the vulnerability like an exposed nerve. "I'm not...I'm not great at letting people in."

Minho nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "I get it," he said softly, surprising Jisung with his understanding. "I'm the same way, honestly."

There was a pause, a quiet understanding passing between them. For the first time, Jisung didn't feel the need to hide, didn't feel the weight of judgment or fear. It was just him and Minho, two people standing on the edge of something undefined.

As if sensing the shift, Minho leaned forward, his gaze locking onto Jisung's. "It's okay to let people in sometimes," he whispered, his words soft yet heavy with meaning. "You don't have to do it all at once. Just...little by little."

The gentle encouragement made Jisung's heart flutter, a warmth spreading through him that he hadn't felt in a long time. He didn't know what this was or where it would lead, but he knew one thing—Minho was someone he wanted to keep close, someone who felt like both a risk and a promise.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, each of them letting down their guard just a little more with every passing minute. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and purple, Jisung felt as though he had known Minho for years.

"Let's do this again sometime," Minho said as they finally stood to leave, his voice laced with an undertone that hinted at both hope and certainty.

Jisung nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I'd like that."

As they stepped outside, a gentle breeze carried the scent of rain and earth, the world settling into a peaceful calm. Jisung found himself wishing the night wouldn't end, that they could stay in this bubble a little while longer.

Before he could think twice, he reached out, brushing his fingers against Minho's. It was a small gesture, barely noticeable, but Minho noticed. He glanced down at their hands, his gaze softening before he threaded his fingers through Jisung's, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Goodnight, Jisung," Minho whispered, his voice a quiet promise in the fading light.

"Goodnight, Minho."

They lingered there for a moment, neither of them wanting to let go. But eventually, they parted, each of them carrying the weight of unspoken words and the thrill of something new, something undeniable.

As Jisung walked home, he couldn't help but smile to himself, feeling a lightness he hadn't felt in years. Maybe, just maybe, letting someone in wasn't as terrifying as he thought.

But deep down, he knew—letting Minho in was no small thing. It was a risk, one that held both beauty and danger in equal measure.

And for the first time, he was willing to take it.