Winter Hearts

why

N sat in the back of the car with Min, each of them by their own window, staring at the shops as they passed slowly, the roads busy with evening pedestrian traffic. They had been interrupted by Siana herding them into the car, and in that confined space, the conversation died.

However, there was an undeniable tension in the air between them, a coiled spring of unanswered questions still lingering, and he knew that she was letting him take the lead on whether they would continue the conversation.

It was only that finding the answer had confounded him, a little. And he had never really expected to find himself in this uncertainty, not the question itself, and certainly not the smouldering excitement Min's observations had lit in his belly.

He had been a little taken aback by Min's question, because it had been unexpected.

Also, he had never really been asked such a thing.

Why do you do it?

Well, he had been asked something like that - but always in the context of promotions and comebacks, and his answers had always been, because of the fans, or because of his love for performance, or his ambition.

But Min had asked that same question and her skew on it had raised alarm bells for him. As he listened to her talk, he could feel something like anxiety rising in his stomach - because it sounded very much like she was peeling back some very carefully-laid layers, and exposing something about him that he was very aware could look like... something about his world, about him, was superficial, a lie.

But mixed in with that anxiety was something else, something a little more guttural, a little more personal. It was like a little fire that only Min could have lit, and its smoke and embers burned into him a very deep awareness, consciousness, of her, her mind.

He stared determinedly out the window, realising that for the first time in a long time, he really was at a loss for words. He really didn't know how to answer her, and had nothing left in him to even brush it off with some platitude or other. He felt like he was clutching at an answer, but, like magnets in a kids' magic kit, every time he reached closer, it just moved away, sidestepped him. It didn't help that he felt very highly conscious of her presence, and was glad of the distance between them in the car.

He had a sudden mortifying thought that, if they were alone, and if she pressed him for an answer, he might, in his desperation, admit he had nothing to say about it, - or beg her to stop. Even more mortifying, the temptation to do either seemed to promise a release and an absolution from the worrisome nature of his predicament. He felt craven for that feeling of letting go, of admitting he just didn't know.

And that was just not what Leader N did. Not when it came to something that felt as grave as this. She was, for all intents and purposes, questioning him and his existence. And whilst he didn't feel there was any malice in her questions, there was a challenge. He might once have passed it off as a challenge of wits and repartee, but he could sense there was a depth to her observations that he couldn't wave away with a clever answer. Not without disappointing her desire to see him rise to it.

So, he felt stumped not only by the question, but by her. Usually, this was the very feeling that Vixx Leader N brushed away effortlessly, but now he could feel the hum of desperation to answer that unanswered answer, buzzing in the back of his mind and sending jolts into his nerves and stomach.

Why do I do it?

N found himself leaning into the car door, and felt the pull of of his body to slump against it and close his eyes. He realised he was doing a lot of this lately, his body seeming to give under the weight of some hidden burden. With a small sigh of release, he let his shoulder rest against the window, and his head to lean on the back of his seat as he watched the passing olive trees with a glassy gaze. A feeling of languid comfort seemed to settle into his bones, as if holding himself upright had become too much of a strain.