My one and only // Minsung

Chapter 6: Quiet hours

The early morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long, soft stripes across the living room floor. Jisung sat curled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket Minho had tossed him the night before. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, but his body refused to rest. Every time he closed his eyes, he heard his father's voice. Saw his shadow. Felt the sting.

So he stayed awake, letting the silence press in around him.

Minho moved quietly in the kitchen. He hadn't spoken much, but something about him—his stillness, his calm—made Jisung feel like he didn't have to explain anything. He didn't have to apologize for taking up space.

Felix, on the other hand, hadn't stopped talking since sunrise.

"I can come by after school," he was saying, pacing back and forth with a piece of toast in his hand. "I'll bring your stuff—well, the rest of it. Or we can go together later if you feel okay enough, but only if we're sure he's not around, obviously, I'm not trying to get us murdered."

Jisung offered a small smile, voice barely above a whisper. "You worry too much."

Felix stopped pacing and looked at him, expression softening. "And you don't worry enough."

Minho leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee. "He's right, you know. I get the whole 'grin and bear it' thing, but there's a limit."

Jisung didn't respond. He couldn't. His chest still felt too tight, like a balloon stretched too far, one more breath away from popping.

Felix sighed, crouching in front of the couch so they were eye-level. "I wish I didn't have to leave, but my parents will freak if I'm gone too long. And I can't exactly tell them I spent the night helping my best friend escape an abusive household."

"It's okay," Jisung said quickly, though the thought of Felix leaving sent a cold ripple down his spine. "I'll be fine."

"You don't have to be fine," Felix replied. "Not here."

Jisung looked down at his hands, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. "I just... I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not," Minho said, and Jisung flinched slightly—he wasn't used to kindness coming from someone who barely knew him. "You're just a kid trying to survive. That's not being a burden. That's being human."

Felix gave a firm nod. "Minho's a bit of a hard-ass, but he's not wrong."

"I'm literally standing right here," Minho muttered into his coffee.

They shared a quiet moment. The kind that felt heavier than it looked. Then Felix stood, glancing at his phone. "I really do have to go."

Jisung nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show on his face. "I'll see you later?"

Felix stepped forward and pulled him into a hug without hesitation. It was quick, but it was real. Jisung held on for just a second longer than necessary.

"Text me if anything happens," Felix said. "And I mean anything."

"I will."

Felix looked over at Minho. "You'll keep an eye on him, right?"

Minho raised an eyebrow. "I'm not gonna let him run off into traffic, if that's what you mean."

Felix grinned faintly. "Close enough."

With one last glance at Jisung, Felix grabbed his bag and slipped out the door, the apartment suddenly feeling quieter in his absence.

Minho returned to the couch and sat down in the armchair across from Jisung, one leg slung over the other, coffee mug resting on his knee. For a few moments, neither of them said anything.

Then Minho asked, "You eat yet?"

Jisung shook his head. "Not really hungry."

Minho didn't press. He just nodded and got up, heading back to the kitchen.

Jisung stared at the ceiling, the silence unfamiliar. Not oppressive like home. Just... still.

He didn't know what to do with stillness.

When Minho returned, he had a bowl of instant ramen in one hand and a glass of juice in the other. "Eat what you can," he said, placing the food on the table in front of Jisung. "I won't be offended if you don't finish it."

Jisung gave a small nod and reached for the bowl with both hands, grateful for the warmth. The smell was comforting in a way he hadn't expected. He took a bite, then another. Slowly. Carefully.

Minho went back to his chair, picking up a notebook from the coffee table and flipping it open. "So," he said, not looking up, "you staying here long?"

Jisung hesitated. "I don't know."

Minho shrugged. "That's fine. I just needed to know if I should make space in the fridge."

Jisung blinked. Then, quietly: "Thank you. For letting me stay."

"You don't have to thank me," Minho replied. "Felix would've murdered me if I said no."

Jisung gave a weak laugh.

"But," Minho added, glancing up, "I would've said yes anyway."

There was something about the way he said it—so casual, so certain—that made Jisung's eyes sting again. He focused on the noodles in front of him.

"Don't get too comfortable, though," Minho said lightly. "I snore."

Jisung let out a soft breath of amusement. "I sleep like a corpse. Should be fine."

They sat there for a while, the TV playing quietly in the background now, showing something neither of them were watching. Outside, the world moved on as usual, but inside the apartment, time seemed to slow down.

Eventually, Minho stood again and pointed toward the hallway. "Bathroom's first door on the right. Extra towels in the closet. If you want, I'll set up the pull-out bed in my room—you'll probably sleep better than out here."

Jisung hesitated. "I don't want to be in the way."

"You're not," Minho said again, more firmly this time. "I told you. You're not."

It would take time for Jisung to believe that. But for now, he stood, ramen half-finished and hands still shaking, and followed Minho down the hallway.

This place wasn't home.

But it was the closest he'd felt to safety in a long, long time.

And maybe—for now—that was enough.