Echoes of the Alley

64 - Unspoken Words and Quiet Resolve

The morning after their day of unwinding was hushed, the apartments filled with the muted sounds of the city waking up. The festival buzz had settled, leaving behind a comforting calm, though undercurrents of something unspoken lingered in the air.

Jisung sat by his window, a mug of tea in his hands, watching the sun creep higher into the sky. The warmth of Minho's words from the previous day stayed with him, replaying in his mind. It wasn't just the compliment—it was the way Minho had said it, soft and deliberate, as if every word had been chosen carefully.

But beneath that warmth was a growing uncertainty. Did Minho mean something more? Or was it simply Jisung's overactive imagination?

Across the hall, Minho moved through his morning routine with an unusual lack of focus. Chan had given him an earful the night before about facing his feelings, but every time Minho thought about opening up to Jisung, doubt crept in.

Hyunjin shuffled into the kitchen, half-asleep, his hair a disheveled mess. "Morning," he mumbled.

"Morning," Minho replied, setting a cup of coffee in front of him.

Hyunjin stared at the gesture, eyebrows raised. "You're being weirdly nice this morning."

"I'm always nice," Minho retorted, rolling his eyes.

Hyunjin snorted. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that." He sipped his coffee before glancing back at Minho. "You okay, though? You seem... distracted."

"I'm fine," Minho said quickly, his voice a little too firm.

Hyunjin didn't push further, but the knowing look he gave Minho was impossible to miss.

—
Later that afternoon, both groups decided to meet at a nearby park. The crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of fallen leaves, and the golden light filtering through the trees gave the scene an almost dreamlike quality.

They broke off into smaller groups as they walked along the winding paths, Felix and Changbin lagging behind as they discussed their latest gaming obsession. Seungmin and Jeongin walked ahead, bickering over which café had the best pastries.

Jisung and Minho ended up somewhere in the middle, their steps naturally falling in sync.

"You've been quiet today," Jisung remarked, glancing sideways at Minho.

"So have you," Minho countered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Jisung chuckled softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Touché."

The silence that followed was comfortable but carried an undertone of something unsaid. Jisung found himself stealing glances at Minho, wondering if now was the time to say what had been weighing on his mind.

Before he could muster the courage, Minho spoke. "Jisung."

"Yeah?"

Minho hesitated, his gaze fixed ahead. "You ever feel like... you want to say something, but you don't know how?"

Jisung's steps faltered for a moment. "All the time," he admitted, his voice quieter now.

Minho looked at him then, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. Me too."

Jisung's heart thudded painfully in his chest. Was this it? Was Minho about to say something that would change everything?

"Hey!" Felix's voice broke through the moment, pulling their attention back to the group. He jogged up to them, waving a Frisbee. "We're starting a game. You two in?"

Minho sighed, the moment slipping away. "Maybe later," he said, his tone laced with faint frustration.

"Your loss," Felix said with a shrug before running back to the others.

Jisung glanced at Minho, who looked like he wanted to say more, but the opportunity had passed.

—
That evening, back at the apartments, the atmosphere felt heavier. Jisung sat on his bed, staring at his phone. He replayed the afternoon in his mind, dissecting every word, every glance. Whatever Minho had wanted to say, it felt important—but unfinished.

He typed and deleted several messages before finally settling on one:
Are you okay?

The response came almost instantly:
Yeah. Just tired. You?

Jisung hesitated before typing back:
Same. Goodnight, Minho.
Goodnight, Jisung.

Across the hall, Minho set his phone down with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. The resolve he'd felt the night before had wavered, and now he was back to square one.

Chan sat across from him, watching silently before speaking. "You know you're only going to drive yourself crazy if you keep holding back."

Minho groaned, covering his face with his hands. "I know. I just... it's not that simple."

"Maybe not," Chan said, leaning forward. "But you've already come this far. Do you really want to keep second-guessing yourself?"

Minho didn't respond, but the weight of Chan's words settled heavily in his chest.

—
The next morning, Jisung woke up feeling no closer to clarity than the night before. But as he sat by his window, watching the city come alive, he made a decision.

He wasn't ready to confront his feelings outright—not yet. But he could still show Minho that he cared, even in small ways.

Meanwhile, across the hall, Minho stood in the kitchen, staring at his coffee mug. He was tired of holding back, but he also knew he needed to wait for the right moment.

For now, their unspoken feelings hung in the air like a delicate thread, both of them waiting for the courage to pull it.

And though neither of them said it out loud, there was an unshakable sense that when the time came, they would meet each other halfway.

———————

— A/N: Sorry I've been updating less, I'm working on another fanfic and I'm tired😭. But happy new years! I hope all of you guys have an amazing year

— Question of the day: What'sss your favrite color(s)? Mine are red, pink, yellow, and sepia.

— Recommended song for this chapter: "Beneath Your Beautiful" by Labrinth ft. Emeli Sandé