HTGAB101 :: changlix ✔︎

step 26- thursgay

Step Twenty Six: Give him a fake message! Send, "hey, are you

I stop reading.

I'm with Changbin, now. There's no reason to continue with this book; it's done. I've done it. It's been—what—almost four days? And I'm still reading this book?

I close the cover, placing my book into a box that was previously filled with socks. "Down ya go," I mumble, saying good-bye to How To Get A Boyfriend 101.

Changbin's arms snake around my waist, turning me around to face him. "Something up, Felix?"

I smile softly. "Nope," I reassure him. "Just thanking my past self for saving whatever city gave me good enough karma for this relationship to be possible."

"Aww, shut up. We both know I'm the lucky one here."

My lips quirk, my eyes narrowing in a playful, suspicious way. "Wait, you think you're the lucky one?"

"Am I not?"

"No, you aren't. I'm the lucky one." I shove Changbin's shoulder gently. "Look at me, Changbin. I. Am. The. Lucky. One."

He leans in to give me a quick kiss before mentioning that I should try organizing my boxes a little.

Organizing...

Blech.

I have about an hour until school starts, and, after that, I have a big decision to make. Should I stay or should I go? Do I continue living with Changbin, or do I go back to my still-unsold apartment? At the moment, I'm leaning toward one option. I think it's the one I'll go with, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be leaning toward it. And, although I'm leaning in this option's direction, I have my doubts.

Stupid, stupid brain. Get ready for your life to hit you like a bus hits Minho's cats.

No, no, no busses. Minho's cats are fine; I think. Nothing to worry about. Just the daily—

"Hey, snap out of it. You have organizing to do," Changbin reminds me, poking his head back into the room.

"Yeah, yeah..."

>>><><<<

"So, Minho, you asked him out on stage, without knowing where you'd go if he said yes?"

I'm trying to understand how Minho was thinking yesterday. He and Jisung make a good couple, in my opinion, but they can't seem to agree on a first date.

"I thought we'd figure it out together, if he would even accept me." Minho's shoulders slump as he places his books on top of his desk.

"Even a fool knows that you always need to have a plan," I scold him. Me. Scolding Minho. It barely makes sense in my head. "Finding dates isn't as easy as it may seem."

Minho drags a finger through the soil on our desk, the soil in which our sunflower seeds can be found. They're on the verge of emerging, just days away from growing into the beautiful, familiar flowers.

Helianthus. I shudder; it's such a scary-sounding name—if mispronounced—for something so beautiful. But, if pronounced correctly, it sounds melodic. Like it's healing me, healing my soul. My wallet steps onto the line. It wants to be healed, too.

"Also, Minho, it might make you feel better to know that Changbin and I haven't gone on official 'dates'"—I make air quotes with my fingers—"before. We've just been hanging out as usual, with more... y'know."

Minho smirks at his textbook and pats me on the shoulder. Something clicks in his mind—I can see, in his eyes, the moment it happens—and he decides to turn the conversation on a full 180.