Winter In My Heart (Jikook/Kookmin)

13

Mr.Kim stared at the cute guy lying on his bed, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Jimin’s face was pale, a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, indicating he was running a fever. The sight tugged at Mr.Kim's heartstrings, a wave of guilt washing over him. It was his fault that Jimin was here, sick and resting, thanks to the reckless jokes that had spiraled out of control the previous night. He opened the door to his room after hearing a familiar double knock.

“Helloooooo, my friend!” came a loud, cheerful voice, breaking the morning stillness.

“Shhhhhh! Don’t scream!” Mingyu hissed, stepping out of the room to keep his friend’s voice from disturbing Jimin’s much-needed sleep. He wanted Jimin to recover, to rest without any interruptions.

“Why? Really, Kim Mingyu? It’s early in the morning!” his friend protested, pushing against Mingyu’s shoulder to get past him.

Mingyu's friend was determined to see who was in the room. He scanned the space, his gaze quickly landing on the figure sprawled out on the bed.

“Mingyu, I thought you had changed,” he said, arching an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on his lips.

“Hey, I have! It’s not what you think,” Mingyu replied, defensively crossing his arms.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think when I see you here shirtless, wearing only boxers, with someone on your bed?” His friend laughed, clearly enjoying the situation.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “You know me too well. But you’re mistaken. There’s a whole story behind this.”

“Alright then, spill it,” his friend insisted, leaning against the doorframe with a mischievous grin.

“Not here,” Mingyu replied, glancing back at the sleeping Jimin. “Let’s go grab a drink. There are so many things I want to ask you.”

They made their way to the hotel café, a cozy spot filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries. As they settled into a corner booth, the atmosphere shifted to a more serious tone.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Mingyu asked, concern etched on his face. “I thought you didn’t want to come back to Korea.”

Mingyu knew his friend well enough to understand the weight of that question. Memories of both love and grief lingered heavily in his friend’s heart, tying him to this place he’d tried to escape.

“Ahhhh, I never thought I’d be back home,” his friend replied, his voice laced with regret. “You know... my mom…”

Mingyu nodded, recalling the painful history of his friend’s family. They had moved away to distance themselves from the memories tied to their adopted son, a loss that had carved a deep wound.

“How’s your mom doing?” Mingyu asked gently, genuinely concerned.

“She’s alright,” his friend said, a hint of sadness in his tone. “But she didn’t know I came back here.”

“Do you think she wants to come back?” Mingyu inquired, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

“Absolutely, yes,” his friend confirmed, a look of certainty crossing his face.

Though no one had openly discussed the pain of losing their loved one for the past twelve years, Mingyu could sense the unspoken bond of shared sorrow between them. They both understood that some people never truly leave our hearts, no matter how much time passes.

“So, do you want to find him?” Mingyu asked, carefully watching his friend’s reaction.

His friend hesitated, his gaze drifting out the window, lost in thought. “It’s been so long... I’ve missed him a lot. But I’m not sure if I should look for him. What if it’s too late?”

Mingyu leaned forward, his expression earnest. “Sometimes, you just have to take that leap of faith. You owe it to yourself—and to him.”

The words hung in the air between them, a blend of hope and uncertainty. They both knew that the past couldn’t be changed, but perhaps, just perhaps, the future could hold new beginnings.