Minho and Jisung-two stars in the same orbit, bound by friendship yet aching for more.
Minho chases a dream his father rejects, torn between ambition and forbidden love.
Jisung, the perfect son, hides his longing behind a flawless smile.
In a w...
The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. It was quiet, save for the faint hum of the world waking up outside. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets, with two figures lying amidst it, intertwined in a peaceful but fragile silence.
Minho's head rested on Jisung's chest, his soft breath rising and falling with the steady rhythm of the other's heartbeat. Jisung's fingers gently ran through Minho's hair, his touch as soft as the first rays of sunlight that touched the skin. The room felt warm, cocooned in the gentle embrace of morning, yet there was an undeniable tension hanging in the air—a weight neither of them could ignore.
Minho shifted slightly, his eyes fluttering open to the soft glow of the daybreak. His gaze wandered over the room, the familiar sights of Jisung's life—the messy desk piled with unfinished assignments, the posters of their favorite K-pop idols hanging crookedly on the walls, the cluttered floor where clothes were strewn carelessly. But it was all a comfort. Everything about this room, this space, felt like home.
Jisung smiled lazily as he felt Minho stir, his fingers still brushing through the soft strands of his hair. "Morning." he whispered, his voice still thick with sleep.
Minho groaned softly, lifting his head just enough to look up at him. "Morning darling." he muttered, his voice still heavy with the remnants of dreams. He pushed himself up slightly, stretching his back, feeling the soreness from the uncomfortable angle he'd been lying in. He winced but smiled at Jisung, his eyes softening as they locked. "We should get up soon. We don't want to be late for class."
Jisung's hand dropped from Minho's hair to his chest, his fingers tapping a light rhythm on his skin as he stretched, leaning his head back against the pillows. "Do we have to?" he asked with a lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded. He was always so carefree in the mornings, a stark contrast to Minho's more disciplined, reserved nature. It was moments like this that made Minho feel a deep, affectionate warmth.
Minho chuckled, shaking his head. "Yes, we have to. As much as I'd love to stay here with you... we can't skip class again."
Jisung groaned in mock defeat, rolling over to lie on his back, his arm flung across his forehead. "You're such a killjoy." he muttered, though his smile betrayed him. He could never stay upset with Minho for long.
