VIVA LA VIDA ━ MINSUNG ✓

BIGGER STRONGER

Jisung walked with his head hung low the following morning, hood up with the strings pulled to hide himself away from the outside world the best he could.

Anyone who bothered to pay attention would be able to see the way the boy walked with a slight limp, hands shoved deep within his pockets to hide their shaking. He only had one goal; to get to class without any distractions or interruptions. Although he longed to find Minho, to be wrapped up in his arms for a few hours, he knew that the elder was better off not worrying about him. After all, he didn't want to be a burden like his mother had claimed he was the night before.

Minho had mindlessly looked down at the pencil he had in hand. He felt too lazy to unzip his backpack and drop it inside with the rest of his writing utensils, so he just held it. Looking up, he was quick to see Jisung walk right past him without so much as a glance.

Confused, Minho furrowed his eyebrows, before turning around to follow the blonde. He fastened his pace until he was walking in step beside him. Jisung had his hands stuffed inside the pocket of his hoodie; completely out of reach. Noting that, the elder tugged on the boy's sleeve to get him to stop, but he hadn't. Jisung simply continued to walk.

"Hey," Minho mumbled in concern, reaching into Jisung's pocket to grab hold of his shaking hand. "What's wrong?"

The blonde weakly shrugged, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than they've ever been. He looked physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted all in one. The look on his face screamed pain in itself.

Not wanting to take his shrug for an answer, Minho walked him to the nearest bathroom, which was fortunately empty as everyone had already left to get to class. The elder couldn't have cared any less about being late, because the boy in front of him and what he was feeling at that moment was so much more important than writing down notes he could've gotten from someone else.

"I know you don't want to talk about what's going on, and I promise I'm not trying to force you..." Minho started, lifting his boyfriend's chin up with a single finger. "...But I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay?"

The blonde couldn't bring himself to speak up; his mouth feeling as if it were sewn together, so he softly nodded. He eyelids felt so heavy, and his heart felt so low; he couldn't bring himself to feel even an ounce bit better.

Minho swiftly opened his arms, a silent notation that Jisung was allowed to hug him; so that was what the blonde did. He walked over, a limp evident in his step, before engulfing Minho in a hug he didn't even know he needed.

Jisung wanted to cry. He wanted to break down and hate himself for the things he did or didn't do, but he couldn't, because Minho's grip around him was an invisible barrier between that side of him and the other. He felt loved and genuinely cared for; something he was never really shown in such a long time. His heart felt like it was ripping in half ever-so-slightly as his fists tightened around the fabric of the elder boy's hoodie. His chest dropped, as if he were letting out the loudest of sobs that were unfortunately put on mute. He was on the brink of tears; of simply giving up his strong demeanor, but the hold Minho had on him was the only thing he felt was strong enough to keep him on the ground. He rested his forehead against the boy's shoulder, purely because he didn't want the boy to see the tears that had threatened to fall.

Minho had felt his own heart drop once realizing that the blonde was shaking; too tired of living a life he was constantly out of control in. "Please don't cry," he mumbled, resting his cheek against his boyfriend's head. Seeing Jisung so distraught and blatantly upset also caused the same effects on himself. "Don't cry, or I'll cry too," he added, trying to, in a way, lighten the mood just a bit. He didn't have the power of changing the weather, but he simply wanted to push the storm clouds over Jisung's head away for the time being. They were destined to return another time and day, but he believed light rain clouds were easier to find sunlight through than total darkness.

Closing his eyes as if waiting for his tears to dissipate on their own, Jisung shook his head gently. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice breaking halfway through. His vocal chords had just completely given out on him; leaving him with nothing but aching hands and broken eyes to talk for him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Minho whispered, slowly removing his arms from around the boy. He delicately cupped both sides of Jisung's face, as if anything more would break the boy into more pieces. "You'll be okay, eventually," he reminded, before catching his boyfriend's lips in a gentle kiss of reassurance.

He had to put emphasis on the word eventually, because he knew it was never easy to be okay on command. He knew it was never easy to believe being okay was a real thing. He couldn't tell Jisung he'd be okay soon, because the world worked in different ways. Each and every person had their own cogwheels turning inside their body; some going at different paces and angles than the person next to them. Minho couldn't tell the blonde he'd be okay now that he was there; because being okay was something Jisung had to know and believe he was on his own.