𝗛𝗮𝗹𝗳 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 | Minsung

1

"Goodmorning sunshine." A voice sarcastically teased, causing Minho to roll his eyes and sigh dramatically.

The beginning of the school year. The familiar monotone buzz of the bus, everyone returning from their summer break, excitement in the air. Unshared stories of short lived loves and out of control parties. The brunette felt nothing but dread.

"Hi." His face was blank, his lips barely causing a ripple of emotion to permeate his face. Minho fumbled with his pocket, eventually retrieving his earphones and resting his head against the cool glass of the window.

After knowing Minho for just short of ten years, this attitude came as no surprise to Changbin. The first day back, the only day other than Easter that Minho had an indescribable amount of resentment for.

Lee Minho, someone who cried at the death of a dog rather than that of a person and the only boy to buy his mother a present on his birthday. 'Why should I accept this gift?' He'd argue. 'I didn't ask to be born, mum did all the hard work."

Sometimes a shadow, lingering like a chaperone at a school dance, other times the life of the party, cracking jokes that made your ribs hurt. He either had an aura that was faintly bridle and gave a feeling as cold as stone or had an unmistakably school-wide famous smile plastered on his face.

To others he was simply the owner of the loud laugh they heard from one end of the cafeteria or a boy with a fierce, resting glare.

But to the ones he loved, he was a feeling. A gentle emerald. The kind of person that replicates the rush you get when you find a $5 bill in an old pair of jeans. He was rare and he was spectacular, well occasionally.

"I hear there's a few new students coming into our grade this year." Changbin informed Minho as he turned around in his seat, to be met with nothing but a quiet scoff. "Yay, more people to make me feel like shit on a day to day basis."

The raven haired boy smiled back at him innocently. "Oh don't be so gloomy, maybe you'll get yourself a man and they can help you replace the stick up your ass with something more pleasurable."

Minho glared at him, quickly flipping him off which deemed Changbin satisfied enough to go back to bothering someone else. He rested back into the uncomfortable seat best he could and allowed himself to absorb into the music playing into his ears. Everyone on the bus, whether chatting, sleeping or daydreaming, feeling the same bumps and turns as the wheels continued to roll in the direction of the school.

-

The two morning periods would've been better spent watching paint dry but when the bell for their first legally obliged break of the day finally sounded, to Minho it resembled the singing of angels. He'd doubt if anyone even caught sight of him leaving the classroom based on how quick he was, but the people he was forced to learn alongside held no place in his train of thought, remembering the sandwhich his mum had packed him for lunch.

As expected, he was the first of his friends to reach the lunch table. Looking around, he felt a surge of loneliness shoot through him. Maybe he didn't need to run. Absentmindedly he unlocked his phone and searched for his school website, Changbin mentioned something about new students, right?

His mind drifted to second period, meeting one girl named Ryunjin. He really liked her shoulder length blue hair. Scrolling through the short list of names and photos he was slightly deflated to see that no one in particular caught his eye. The way things were going, It seemed to him like this year would be the same as every other.

He suddenly missed the peace he felt only seconds earlier when sound erupted from all around him. Chan, Hyunjin and Felix greeted him showing way too much enthusiasm but ultimately drawing out the first smile he'd shown all day. They talked about this and that but Minho couldn't help but get lost in the thought mid conversations. His mind was often busy with something. No matter where he was, what he was doing or who he was with, he always seemed to be searching for more.

Struggling to lift his feet from the ground as he made his way back to his house, Minho aimlessly counted in his head. Stride 56, stride 57, stride 58, what the.... he had no choice but to come to a stop at the scene in front of him.

Directly across from his home, in the building that had been completely abandoned ever since he could remember, were 3 moving trucks and a whole lot of commotion. Someone's moving in? He thought to himself as he drew closer, of course staying on the opposite side of the road to maintain a respectful distance.

As mentioned, never in his life had he seen anyone even go near that house, let alone go in. When kids rode their bikes passed it, they'd switch to the opposite side of the footpath, when people walked their dogs passed it, the animals would growl lowly and if any balls were ever thrown into the yard of the building, it was an accepted fact that they were never coming out.

The way people acted around it reminded of him of the movie monster house, however it made him giggle to think that the house would come alive and eat him up. He was lost in thought with his childish antics, causing him to loose focus not even realising that he had made it to his house.

He walked to his porch and unlocked the door, immediately throwing his bag to one side of the living room and heading directly to the fridge.

Sitting in his room with a handful of strawberries, he cleared a gap in his curtains and stared out at the house across the street. Amongst the multiple movers and neighbours who were quick to introduce themselves, it was hard for Minho to tell who exactly were moving in.

Initially he assumed it to be easy, all dressed in black, piercings and purple hair, a whole family who wore angle length dresses and the boys in oddly sensible trousers. He didn't know why his brain was painting a 2020 version of the Adams family but in his defence, what kind of family would move into such a house?

All he saw was grey, dark green and multiple shades of beige. What boring people, he thought. He didn't expect that when his eyes were scanning the house itself that they'd become stuck on a figure in the window directly across from him. Blonde and in a lavender sweater, how exceptionally different from the rest of them.

This boy seemed to be around Minhos age. He was somewhat thin and had skin resembling a honey tint. A dazed expression dominated his features, he seemed to be almost femininely sensitive. The sun was shooting down directly on him, almost to make a point of his presence. His eyes were shadowed, making them appear as almost black rather than their magnificent golden brown.

He looked up at him, impossible, Minho thought, there's no way he can see me through these curtains.

Nevertheless, the mystery boy smiled before disappearing back into the depths of the once horrifying house.

Minho took three steps backwards until he hit his bed and sat down, bouncing subtly as the springs reacted from his weight. His face reciprocated the way in which he was lost in thought. Who was he?
He continued to internally question. Minho didn't know much yet, but he knew one thing for sure, the boy across the street with the vibrant fashion taste had him intrigued.

A/n
Wassup losers I'm back with my 3rd story 🤪
It's kind of funny that I'm starting a third when I haven't even finished the first two yet but yolo it's fine. I'm really excited to write this as for the first time I actually have a storyline ready in my head! I hope you love it :)

Make sure to vote and comment for more :)

Ry x