Drive | Minsung

The words hung between them, fragile and trembling- I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you.

He stared out the windshield, watching the streetlight flicker again, scattering golden fragments across the hood of his car. A thousand memories stirred- late-night drives with the windows down, Jisung's laughter spilling into the wind, their fingers brushing over the gearshift like a secret.

When Minho finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. "You can't just say things like that, Jisung. Not after everything."

"I know," Jisung said softly. "But I couldn't sleep anymore without hearing your voice." There was a pause, a breath caught halfway between fear and longing. "Are you in your car?"

Minho blinked, taken aback. "Yeah... why?"

On the other end, Jisung let out a small, shaky laugh. "Then... do you want to take a ride? Like before?"

The words hit Minho like a pulse from another life. He looked toward the passenger seat, empty and waiting. The ache in his chest softened into something almost peaceful.

"Where are you?" he whispered.