Stolen | minsung

Minho stopped believing in tomorrow a long time ago.

At nineteen, his entire world has shrunk to the size of a hospital room-monochrome walls, sterile corridors, and the rhythmic, hollow hum of machines constantly reminding him that his time is running out. With a terminal diagnosis hanging over his head, he made peace with the quiet. He doesn't want false hope, he doesn't want empty promises, and he certainly doesn't want anyone getting close enough to care when he's gone.

He just wants the remaining days to pass without making a sound.

Until the day Han Jisung crashes into his life.

Jisung is everything Minho isn't: vibrant, clumsy, unapologetically loud, and entirely impossible to ignore. Despite fighting his own battles in the very same ward, Jisung carries himself with an impossible warmth-smiling, laughing, and living as though the world has given him every reason to stay.

When their paths cross, a fragile ninety-day countdown begins.

Three months.

That's all the time they are promised.

Ninety days filled with stolen snacks from vending machines, quiet midnight conversations whispered in darkened hallways, rooftop sunsets that paint the city in gold, shared playlists through tangled earphones, and childish arguments that always end in laughter. In the middle of beeping monitors and ticking clocks, they stumble into a love that defies the expiration date hanging over them.

Jisung shows Minho that being alive isn't measured by the number of years you collect, but by the courage to feel every single second you're given. And in return, Minho shows Jisung that even the quietest, most fleeting moments can become someone's entire universe.

They know tomorrow isn't guaranteed.

They know forever was never an option.

But maybe love doesn't need a lifetime to be real. Maybe three months is enough to leave an eternal mark. And maybe, even in the darkest room, all it takes is three months of sunshine

#12- sick