NXT 2 U [Minsung AU]

-4- Question

~POV Jisung~

I really thought Minho was going to leave.

He hesitated so much before coming to sit on the sofa that I thought time had stopped. During all this time, long and tortuous minutes, he had remained silent, motionless, almost without blinking, like a statue. And even though he was now sitting next to me, he still hadn't said a word. I could only hear the quiet, steady sound of his breathing.

Of course, I didn't expect us to engage in a long and hectic discussion, but I didn't imagine such silence either. Yet, as when he had pushed me away, the atmosphere between us was odd, heavy, and I didn't know how to fix it. I was unable to guess his thoughts, just as I didn't know what to think of him. Everything about him was unfathomable and distant. Unattainable.

Now, he was staring at the ground without moving. I was discreetly observing him without knowing what to do. When I saw his face for the first time, I had been struck by his beauty but now, I could see something else in him, something even more striking, that made me a little sad.

Minho wasn't very expressive. He didn't speak much. He was there, but seemed almost unreal. He didn't really look around, and even when he did, his gaze was absent. In addition, he seemed tired, and beyond the anger he felt towards his roommate, he didn't seem happy. The more I looked at him, the more I could feel the distance between him and what was around him. This distance was almost more alive than his eyes, his words, his gestures, than him.

I didn't want to force him to stay here, even less if he didn't want to. I couldn't really explain my insistence that he doesn't leave. But I couldn't help it. I just wanted to help him. Put a bandage on his wounds... at least, on the ones I could see.

Slowly, I took a cotton ball and some disinfectant from the care kit. Fearing he would become resistant to any contact with me again, my hands were shaking like jelly. After soaking the cotton, I was about to take his hand to treat his grazes, when he suddenly took it from me.

"I can do it."

"It doesn't bother me..."

But he wasn't listening. Not wishing to hurt him by insisting more, I let him take care of his wounds himself, my gaze lost on his hands which seemed not to want to touch anyone, except to push them away. Was he like that with everyone? An armored door, impassable? I was asking myself a thousand questions, before I realized he had finished. Immediately, I took some bandages to give him. 

He raised an eyebrow, visibly perplexed.

"Don't you have anything else?"

His gaze was anchored on my lot of sky-blue bandages adorned with little cats, while I blushed with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry."

He sighed, no doubt annoyed, before taking them and placing them on his grazes. I watched him do it, silent, absorbed by his meticulous gestures. I had never been so confused in front of anyone before and it made me uncomfortable. Minho was cold, not like someone mean, but totally indifferent. He acted as if I was transparent, invisible, just another piece of furniture in the room we were in.

I, who always found something to say, was now totally helpless. I was afraid of offending him and making him run away at the slightest word or gesture. I had the constant sensation of treading gingerly. Yet, I didn't want him to leave. I was curious. 

His voice, almost inaudible, pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Thanks."

He had finished.