OFF-ROAD. － b.c + l.mh

◎ 11: it's okay : epilogue

At times, words have a greater consequence than most pay mind to. They could be triggers or fluffy blankets, weave tales or write truths. It was like when one has a bad day, and a loved one asks what's wrong, and the former can't help but crumble and weep into the open arms awaiting them for a delicate embrace.

That was how Minho reacted to the question so innocently spoken.

Tears hadn't left him in long enough a time that he had forgotten how they felt on his skin and tasted on his lips. He locked them so profoundly within himself, that he forgot where they had even been hidden.

Then, however, they had found their way of escape and refused to stop running, no matter how he yelled for them to do so.

Chan didn't hesitate before arising from his chair and pressing the other against his torso, wrapping his arms around him in a secure hug, as if attempting to hold the pieces together.

"Honey, it's okay. Everything's okay. Why are you sobbing?"

Nothing was okay, nothing had been okay, and he doubted things would ever be okay.

Minho buried his face into his partner's sweater, eyes wrinkled closed and lips quivering as he did his best to keep them shut, muffling the hiccups and sobs which left him.

"You need to go, but I don't want you to. I'm － I'm so selfish."

The standing male frowned, bewilderment dotting his expression aside from the tears that threatened to overflow past the rims of his own eyes.

"What are you talking about? You're not selfish for something like that. It makes me really happy that you still care enough to not want to be apart fro－"

"That's not what I mean!"

Chan startled back, almost completely splitting their hug, and was met by the sight of Minho who glared up at him with leaking, swelling eyes and cheeks tinted red.

"Sirs, is everything alright?"

Momentarily, the shortest of the two had utterly disregarded where they were, the deteriorating situation with his boyfriend having taken over Chan's senses.

He didn't raise his head to look to the waiter but merely waved him off, remaining transfixed on his still weeping partner who desperately wiped at his tears in anger.

"We're fine, thank you. I'm sorry for the disturbance."

A pause, and the waiter was on his way, understanding that his presence was not welcomed in what seemed to be a personal matter.

Alone once more, Chan dropped to his knees before his boyfriend, ignoring the subtle pain the action inflicted upon their bony caps.

"What's going on, honey? What did you mean?"

Minho averted his gaze, feeling like a child being consoled by his parent after getting injured whilst playing.

The silence became heavier, and the intensity of his lover's stare upon his frame sent a heat rushing through his veins which was incomparable to the sensation of the latter's palms setting upon his thighs.

"Minho?"

"I want you to be happy, healthy. You can't be if you stay with someone like me."

The brunet blinked and it briefly appeared they had gone back five years, seeing a nineteen-year-old Minho looking back at him with wide, panicked eyes beneath the moonlight at that gas station.

"Look what I've done. You work yourself until you're exhausted, you've lost weight and you're growing weaker. You come home just about ready to collapse and we still hardly have enough money to even keep our ruddy apartment."