{ 𝙈𝘼𝙕𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝙅𝙅𝘼𝙈 🍓 𝙎𝙆𝙕 }

2.

"Pff, fine— sorry, Dad," Minho sassed, rolling his eyes as kicked off his shoes and toed them into the corner by the door. "I didn't realize I had a curfew."

"That's not what I meant, Minho. I was just curious and— well, Felix was a little worried," Chan explained, sighing; arms crossed over his chest.

Minho side-eyed him. Yeah, right.

"Okay, okay, I was worried, too. But can you blame us? The whole time we've lived here, you've always come home at 5 o' clock, almost on the dot. And... you've been late three days in a row. It's already dark out." 

"There's construction a couple blocks down. I have to go around it," Minho answered, shrugging as he headed straight for the fridge. "Pass me a spoon, please."

Chan meant well, always. If he was a little overbearing at times, it was simply because he cared a lot about his roommate of four months. So Minho really couldn't be mad.

"Here."

Minho put out one open palm as he rifled through the fridge with the other hand, not so much as looking back at Chan (though he did offer a quick: "Thanks.") Pulling a nearly-empty jar from where he'd stashed it in the back, Minho groaned, "Shit, I'm starving."

"Lix was gonna cook—"

"Need food. Now." He popped the lid and right in went the spoon, like a diver.

"Okay, fair," Chan chuckled. "Wait, are you really about to—"

Minho sighed in relief when a sweet and tangy flavor replaced that of the stale saliva that'd been pooling in his mouth as his stomach just growled and growled and growled— somehow, out of nowhere, he'd become ravenous during the last of his walk home: all of five, ten minutes.

"Wow, you're really eating straight jam."

"This stuff is fucking bomb, dude," Minho replied, mouth full. He'd never had anything like it before: honestly, in some inexplicable way, it tasted like a strawberry had exploded all over his mouth—with a delicious sugar coating as the rubble-and-dust aftermath. Something told him he should think it was too sweet, but then again, something told him eat more, more, more.

"Can I try a bit?"

 At that Minho immediately froze, spoon-in-mouth, brow furrowed, pulling back like a frightened animal. Hugging the jar to his chest, as if he'd start hissing and clawing if Chan tried to take it.

Chan stared at him, surprised at first, then as his eyebrows slowly moved closer together and creased his forehead, worried. "Um, nevermind?"

Minho snapped out of it quickly, awkwardly chuckling as he put the jar down on the counter, sliding it a tiny bit closer to Chan reluctantly. "Sorry, I— I don't know—" He paused, blinking rapidly and trying to find the words. "...I'm just hungry. You can have some."

"Nah, actually, you go ahead... You sure you're okay?"

Scratching the back of his neck, embarrassed, Minho slowly brought the jar back closer, nodding.

"I'll buy some more tomorrow."

🍓

The sun had just finished setting and the sky had nearly done away with all traces of its light at the measly hour of 5PM. Minho sighed (and due to the fact that all the heat was quickly vanishing from the world, it was visible). With his eight-hour shifts, he was barely even getting to see sunlight these days. 

 "Gotta love winter," he grumbled to himself, fumbling for his jacket zipper. At least the moon— already shining emphatically— was bright, so he could still see where he was walking, even in that weird stretch of his current daily detour where there were zero street lights for a mile.