Destined {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Chapter Twenty-Five

Blood. Trees. Wind. Fear. Everything was a whirlwind around him, emotions overwhelming him, drowning him. He was running, but he didn't know where to, except that it was light. All he knew was that it was important, that he had to reach the light ahead of him before the darkness nipping at his heels reached him.

Almost there. The light was getting closer, he could make it... A hand reached out from the light, and he reached out to meet it. A familiar face emerged, desperate, reaching, reaching...

Their fingers brushed, but then the darkness yanked him back.

Minho sat up with a gasp, eyes blown wide, chest heaving. His eyes darted about the room, and he relaxed when he realized it was his own. The previous night was a blur, but all he could distinctly remember were soft lips on his, and a feeling of inexplicable happiness, of rightness at the gesture.

As he remembered slowly but surely, he yelped as his head suddenly started to throb. He pressed a hand against his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut; how much did I drink last night?

His cheeks flushed when he thought of the kiss again; he had to be pretty drunk to kiss Jisung like that. His face was slowly turning beet red the longer he thought of it, so he pushed the thought away.

It was a drunken kiss, nothing more. Nothing more.

Just then Felix popped his head into the room with a grin reminiscent to the Cheshire Cat on his face. "Hangovers are fun, aren't they?" He laughed, the sound grating against Minho's ears as he winced away.

"How come you aren't suffering," he grumbled, to which the other boy winked.

"I can hold my liquor, unlike a certain someone." He snickered again, and Minho shot daggers at him through his glare. His friend plopped pills and a water bottle on his bedside and gestured towards it. With a knowing smirk that irritated the brunet to no end, Felix walked right back out of the room.

Minho sighed and leaned his head against his headboard, closing his eyes. He snatched the pills, and downed them with water; he couldn't wait for this damned headache to leave. And hopefully take the memory of the kiss with it.

~#~#~#~#~#~

How could I do that? Jisung groaned into his pillow, his face the same shade of red as the book on his bedside. It was pretty damn red. Luckily, he wasn't suffering from any hangovers, just a healthy dose of self-deprecation and humiliation.

His door opened and Hyunjin walked in, ripping the blankets off of him. "Rise and shine, you lazy ass. It's time to train." Jisung groaned and brought his pillow above his head, but that was also torn away.

Really, he should have already been done training by then. But as the future alpha of the pack... he unfortunately had to train for several extra years. He begrudgingly sat up and rubbed his eyes, hoping the redness of his cheeks was gone by then.

"I'm up. Unfortunately," he grumbled, pulling on a shirt that had been laying around on his floor somewhere, and a pair of shorts. Hyunjin rolled his eyes with a huff and dragged him out of his room.

"I think Alpha Dongwook will oversee your training later today," he said, turning to his friend with a grin. "Maybe he thinks you're ready, now." Jisung choked on air, whirling to face his friends with wide eyes and a pale face.

"No. No, definitely not." He shook his head, but even as he said it he was scared of the doubt in his own voice. He knew he wasn't ready to become the alpha, he was still only in his early twenties. But if Dongwook passed the title onto to him, he couldn't refuse. Even if he wasn't ready.