When you feel it's hopeless, When you think that you lost...

Jisung snuggled further into the warm, comforting embrace of his bed with a content sigh, his eyelashes grazing his cheeks, fluttering gently as he blinked his eyes open slowly. A small smile graced his lips as thoughts about Minho flooded his mind. The image of the beautiful boy with black hair, lightly sunkissed skin, and a dark intense gaze was imprinted into his mind's eye like a tattoo, something he could never forget about or get rid of. And yet, it made him smile. The thought of the boy he had chanced to meet, was like a shot of euphoria and made him feel giddy. Especially considering the boy had chosen to give him attention. Out of everyone at that party, he had chosen Jisung. Little butterflies of happiness fluttered joyously in his stomach.

Jisung rolled over, fully expecting to see the boy asleep beside him, but he was met with an empty, cold space. The happiness evaporated quicker than water in a desert. He stared blankly at the place where Minho should be. A strange sadness tugged at his chest. Minho had left him at somepoint during the night.

Jisung didn't know how he knew that Minho was definitely no longer in the house, but as he sat up, a bright neon pink sticky note caught his attention, confirming that the boy had left. The note was stuck to the back of the door, like a small brightly coloured bandaid haphazardly placed over a large wound in a vain attempt to cover it. Jisung swung his legs over the edge of his bed, throwing his covers off at the same time, before standing. He allowed himself to stretch, his arms reaching over his head as if he were trying to touch the ceiling. With a heavy sigh, Jisung stepped towards the door. His hand reached for the sticky note, his fingers grazing the door lightly as they curled around the edge of the paper and pulled it off of the white door.

His eyes lingered over the scratched scrawl that somehow managed to be rough and delicate at the same time. It suited Minho. A rough and scratchy but soft and delicate style of writing seemed to be a perfect match for the dark haired boy.

Sorry Jisung.
I have a shift at work pretty early this morning. A friend called in sick and asked me to take over. I promise I'm not usually like this.
And I'm sorry that I'm leaving a note, but I didn't want to wake you. You're cute when you sleep
- Minho

A happy smile tugged the corners of his lips upwards. Minho said he was cute. Jisung moved towards his bed swiftly and pressed the sticky note to the frame of his bed. With a smile still lingering on his face, he left his room.

Jisung walked around quietly, hoping not to disturb his housemate. Chan hadn't been home when Jisung and Minho got back, but Jisung was sure that his Australian friend would be in bed now. He slipped into the kitchen as silently as possible and began to make himself and Chan some breakfast after glancing at the time.

Despite Chan continuously being awake until all hours in the morning, the blond boy was always up by 7am for some weird reason. Jisung had tried to convince Chan to sleep in, but he had always shaken his head and simply said he couldn't. It didn't make sense to Jisung, but he was used to it now and somewhat selfishly appreciated it. He loved always having Chan around from the moment he woke up. Chan would usually be the one making breakfast for the both of them as Jisung was generally the opposite of an early riser, however, it seemed it was Jisung's turn to return the favour.

He grinned as he thought about how pleasantly surprised Chan would be to wake up to breakfast already done. Jisung continued to put together a meal, opting for pancakes as they were his and Chan's favourite. He hummed softly to himself, lost in thought as he stared at the batter in the pan, watching for the telltale signs that he could flip the pancake.

His thoughts wandered back to the charming, dark haired boy who had approached him confidently at the party last night. The second their eyes met, Jisung felt like he had found the part of himself he didn't even know he was missing. He wasn't sure why he felt that way or if the older boy felt the same way, but if what they had done last night plus the cute note, were anything to go by, Minho definitely at least found Jisung attractive and interesting. Jisung just hoped he wouldn't end up being just a one night stand.

He jumped, startled, when his phone pinged with a notification. He quickly flipped the now burning pancakes before rushing over to his phone to see who had messaged him.

Minho 💖💗

6:46

Hey Jisung
It's Minho
I added my number to your phone before I left this morning

It looks like I will finish at work early enough for lunch if you want to come get lunch with me?

Seen at 6:47

Jisung felt his cheeks warm with a light blush when he saw Minho's contact name and request to have lunch with him. If Minho had added two emoji hearts after his name, it left Jisung wondering what he saved his contact as on his phone. With eager fingers and a happy smile, he typed out his response. He told the other that he would be able to have lunch and asked where the other wanted to go.

He put his phone down and returned his attention to the pancakes. He finished cooking the batter without a response from Minho but figured that the boy had gone back to working. Stepping back to admire his work, Jisung dusted off his hands dramatically before setting the table and plating the food so that Chan could just start eating the second he sat down.

Jisung sat down in his spot enthusiastically. It was already ten minutes past seven o'clock, so Chan should be joining him at the table soon. He quickly grew distracted again when his phone dinged and several messages from Minho came through. Twenty minutes later, Jisung and Minho had organised a time and place for lunch.

He sighed happily through his nose while placing his phone down on the table gently. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall opposite him and his brows furrowed. It was half past seven. Chan was always, always, out of bed before this time.

Concerned that Chan was sick, Jisung stood hastily and made his way to his best friend's room. He knocked on the closed door, his knuckles tingling from the sensation of bone meeting wood. Recieving no response, Jisung called out before opening the door, "Chan hyung? I'm coming in!"

A small, confused gasp left his mouth when he noticed the made bed and empty room. Had Chan not returned home at all? Rushing out of the room, Jisung ran towards the dining table where his phone sat innocently beside his plate.

He quickly picked it up and opened up the messages between him and Chan, scrolling with shaking fingers. Chan rarely stayed out all night, and if he did happen to, he would always let Jisung know in advance. Had he missed Chan's message telling him he wouldn't be home?

Jisung continued to scroll until he reached the beginning of their messages from the morning before. He slowly went through their conversation, checking for a message he may have missed or forgotten about. His fingers ached to press the small blue phone symbol next to Chan's name but Jisung's mind won the battle and he decided against it. He must make sure he didn't bother Chan unnecessarily just because he missed a messge.

However, when he reached the end of their conversation with no indication that Chan intended to stay out all night, Jisung was swallowed by his anxiety. Where was chan?

The aching in his fingers seemed almost unbearable as they hovered uncertainly over the call button, the dull ache settling into his bones like a bird in a nest, comfortable and having no intention of leaving. A sharp anxious inhale accompanied his fingers as the dove towards the blue phone symbol and pressed on it. The screen immediately changed and his phone began to dial his best friend's number.

"Come on, Chan, pick up," he muttered as the ringing continued once again. He had already attempted seven times to get a hold of the boy and it was already midday.

With a frustrated sigh, Jisung plopped into his chair. The food he had made for breakfast remained on the table, untouched as he had been too focused on staring at his phone for a message from Chan to even eat or put the food away.

He stared at the neatly arranged display blankly. His mind wandered to his interactions with Chan over the past month. He frowned slightly, his brows furrowing as a distressing thought popped into his head. What if Chan didn't want to see him anymore? What if he was avoiding Jisung?

Jisung's head fell on top of of his arms which were splayed on the table. Had he been to clingy recently? Had he scared Chan away? He whimpered pathetically at the questions. He had not meant to be so clingy, he had just wanted Chan's attention on him all day, every day. He didn't want his older friend to forget about him as he met new, better people. Jisung was terrified that Chan would abandon him once he realised how much better everyone else was in comparison to him.

His phone vibrated underneath his hand and his head shot up, excitement flaring dangerously in his chest, the happy emotion dangling by a thread above his heart, ready to fall onto the organ and crush it, if it was breathed into existence for no reason.

The thread snapped the second Jisungs eyes landed on the name of the messenger. His heart collapsed under the weight of the unwelcome excitement. Minho's name and confused message asking Jisung where he was glared at him accusingly from the bright phone screen. However, neither of these things made it into Jisung's mind, the characters were blurry and unfocused as his attention was snagged by the two heart emojis shining next to Minho's name. The strange tug returned in his stomach and he felt the impulse to get up and leave, to rush to Minho, to cry in his arms and never leave him. It repulsed him. He had only known Minho for less than 24 hours and yet he felt as if never seeing the dark haired boy again would be synonymous with ripping out one of his lungs and trying to survive with only his heart and a single lung. Difficult, and near impossible without a transplant.

Hot tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks before he could stop them. He slid the phone aggressively across the table, the force of his push sending the device flying onto the floor with a loud clack.

Jisung sobbed into his hands as he struggled to reel his anxiety in. The anxious thoughts and feeling having attacked him without forewarning the second he saw that it was not Chan who had messaged him. He knew that it was logical that Chan could have simple just forgotten to message him, but something in his gut was telling him that, that wasn't it. But he couldn't work out what it could be and it was stressing him out.

He focused on trying to slow his breathing instead of the panicked thoughts whirling through his mind. It was difficult as he kept finding himself distracted by each and every one anxious thoughts.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as a particularly disturbing thought popped into his mind. What if Chan had gotten hurt and was unable to message Jisung? His heart fought violently against his ribcage like a scared animal backed into a corner.

Exaggerated breaths pushed and pulled his lips as he once again tried to regain a sense of calm. He remained unsuccessful in his endevour for what felt like hours but was merely a minute. Exhausted by the effort he had exerted, Jisung rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes. Maybe if he woke up, he would find out it was all just a bad dream. But would he ever dream of meeting someone like Minho?

Hey.... sorry this update is so late! I sincerely apologise for my lack of relaibility when it comes to updating on a schedule :(

I also really hate this chapter but I needed to write this so it could lead into the other chapters *sighs in frustration*. I am sorry that it is 2100 words of boring. I promise that pnce we get to chapter three, it will start to get more interesting :)

Anyone want to talk about Levanter?