Aquarium of Us

Chapter 11: The weight of silence

After hours of practice, Minho trudged back to the dorm, expecting to see Jisung there, already settled in and maybe nodding off on the couch. But as he stepped inside, he was greeted by a heavy, unfamiliar silence. Jisung's shoes were missing from the doorway, and the dorm felt empty in a way that gnawed at him, each silent corner amplifying the absence of the one person he wanted to see most.

Where could he have gone? The question tightened in his chest. It didn't sit right with him to just wait, to let the silence stretch. He grabbed his jacket and headed out into the cool night air, retracing their usual paths, his mind racing with memories and the words he'd left unsaid.

After a few minutes, he found himself outside the practice room. Through the faint glow seeping from the windows, he saw Jisung inside, sitting alone on one of the benches, his head bowed, his face lit only by the soft glow of his phone screen. Even from a distance, Minho could feel the quiet tension radiating from him, a heavy, unspoken weight that seemed to press down on the air.

He stepped inside, his footsteps soft on the polished floor, but Jisung didn't look up. Minho hesitated, feeling a mixture of guilt and a painful longing clawing at him. But he knew he couldn't leave things as they were, not after the games he'd played, the cold glances, the teasing.

Minho slowly sat beside him, the familiar warmth of Jisung's presence next to him a bittersweet comfort. The silence between them stretched out like a fragile thread, each of them hesitant to break it. They'd always had these moments where words were unnecessary, just sitting in silence, their thoughts shared through proximity alone. Tonight, though, the quiet felt different-more weighted, fragile, as if any movement would shatter whatever delicate understanding they'd created.

Tentatively, Minho reached out, his hand moving slowly, almost as if it had a mind of its own. His fingers brushed against Jisung's, a soft, hesitant touch that carried every apology, every unspoken word he couldn't find the courage to say. His heart thundered in his chest, the pulse hammering in his fingertips as he held his breath, waiting, hoping.

He felt Jisung's fingers shift beneath his own, hesitating for just a moment before curling around his. Their hands intertwined, the grip gentle yet filled with an unspoken intensity that felt like a promise. The warmth of Jisung's hand in his, their fingers laced together, grounded him in a way he hadn't realized he needed. Every worry, every moment of jealousy and confusion, melted away under the comforting weight of Jisung's touch.

They sat there, hands clasped, letting the silence between them stretch. It was grounding, a steady heartbeat in the quiet night, a reminder that even without words, they understood each other more deeply than anyone else could. Minho's thumb began tracing small circles on Jisung's hand, a subtle gesture, but one filled with the tenderness he'd been afraid to show. He could feel every beat of his own heart, every shaky breath, as his thumb moved against Jisung's skin, a rhythm as calming as it was intimate.

He found his gaze lingering on Jisung's face, taking in the gentle curve of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadows under the dim light, and the soft, almost vulnerable expression he wore as he stared down at their intertwined hands. The world felt distant, faded at the edges, leaving only the warmth between them, the shared comfort of the moment.

Minho wanted to say something-to finally release everything he'd been holding back, to tell Jisung about the ache he'd felt seeing him with Hyunjin, the possessiveness he couldn't explain, the games he'd played to get a reaction. But the words were lodged in his throat, tangled in fear and uncertainty, and he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to disrupt the fragile peace they'd found.

Instead, he tightened his grip, letting the silence speak for him, hoping Jisung could feel every unspoken word, every thought and feeling he couldn't voice. He felt his hand squeeze gently in response, and it was as if their silent exchange filled the space between them with an understanding they hadn't dared to acknowledge before. In that moment, without a single word spoken, Minho felt closer to Jisung than he ever had before.

The quiet continued, the weight of their intertwined hands anchoring them to each other, a silent promise that no matter what words they couldn't say, no matter what feelings they still kept hidden, they had each other in these quiet, shared moments.

Minutes passed, maybe even an hour, but time felt irrelevant. They were each other's constant, and that understanding settled between them, a warm, steady pulse in the stillness. And though neither said it out loud, they both knew this-the weight of their silence was just as important as anything they could have put into words.