minsung one shots

when silence speaks

ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ
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angst. fluff / 2260
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minho didn't even remember what started it.

maybe it was something silly, some offhanded comment about dishes piling up in the sink or jisung's tendency to leave his shoes right at the doorway where anyone could trip over them.

it was so, so small. insignificant, even. and yet, it had unravelled into something much bigger, much messier, until words were being thrown like knives across the room.

jisung's voice was loud, frustration sharpening his tone like a blade. "you always do this! you get annoyed over the smallest things and then just- just bottle it up until you explode!"

"I wouldn't have to bottle things up if you'd just listen the first time!" minho snapped back, his chest tight and his breathing ragged. he hated how his voice wavered, not with anger, but with something more fragile. something he couldn't name.

"so, this is my fault? great, blame me for everything, minho."

"that's not what I'm saying!"

"no, that's exactly what you're saying. because it's always me, right? I'm always the problem."

minho's mouth opened, but no words came out. his thoughts tangled, stuck between his frustration and the sudden, crushing ache of jisung's voice - cracked, hurt, layered beneath the angry tremor. and it was all too much.

"whatever," jisung huffed, hands clenched at his sides. "I'm done arguing. I can't-" his words cut off like he was swallowing glass. and then he was gone, bedroom door slamming with a force that made minho flinch.

the silence that followed was deafening.

^^^

the first day without jisung was the worst.
the apartment felt colder, like the absence of jisung's energy had sucked the warmth right out of the place.

jisung didn't go far - he never could. he'd crashed at chan's place, the older man giving him nothing but understanding looks.

minho wandered through the motions of his day, but everything felt wrong. the coffee he made was bitter, no matter how much sugar he dumped into it. the couch felt too big, too empty.

he tried to busy himself, cleaning furiously, scrubbing away at countertops that were already spotless. but nothing worked. nothing could fill the void where jisung's smile usually sat. where his laugh would echo off the walls.

he found himself staring at his phone more times than he could count, his fingers twitching with the urge to text jisung. apologize. beg for forgiveness. but he couldn't bring himself to do it. not when he could still hear the hurt in jisung's voice echoing in his ears.

so, he slept fitfully on the couch that night, curled up beneath a thin blanket that did nothing to keep the chill away. his dreams were hazy and restless, filled with the sound of jisung's anger and the hollow ache of their silence.

^^^

the second day was quieter. and somehow, that made everything worse. minho's chest felt tight, his own silence pressing against his ribs like a vise.