~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.

He was about to leave.

I met his eyes, dark and unreadable.

"You're welcome..."

The silence was so unbearable that I felt dizzy.

"You... didn't tell me what you wanted to drink..."

My voice, febrile, betrayed my resignation. Even if I asked him, I already knew the answer. I was expecting to walk him to the door in a few seconds when he lowered his head, observing his bandages in silence, slowly passing his fingers over the little cat's drawings. For a moment, ephemeral and tiny, I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I refrained myself by biting my lips. At the same time, he answered.

"Whatever. Just a glass of water will do."

As the rain outside intensified, the drops hitting the living room windows with force, creating a deafening buzz around us, Minho had spoken without looking at me. For a few seconds, I remained mute, incredulous and then, stupidly relieved. The simple fact he had accepted my proposal made me happy. But just a glass of water was far too sad. Even though I was taking a risk by deciding something on my own, I wanted to try.

"In that case, give me just a moment." I informed him as I got up, before heading to the kitchen. "I'll make my specialty for you!"

~☕~

When I returned to the living room, a few minutes later, Minho was still sitting in the same place. He hadn't moved one iota. His eyes were still riveted on the bandages he touched with his fingertips, his mind elsewhere, to not change. With a big smile, I put the two steaming cups on the coffee table. The distinctive and recognizable drinks' smell caught his attention, and I saw him blink for a moment.

"Homemade hot chocolate." I announced cheerfully. "Perfect when it rains and you're a little cold, like now."

It was my favorite recipe, with lots of chocolate and marshmallows on top. Now, the living room smelled cocoa, cinnamon and seemed heartier while he continued to stare at his cup, as if he didn't believe it. Then, while I watched him from the corner of my eye, Minho took a sip with his eyes closed. Suddenly, strangely, he seemed younger to me, more fragile, a bit like a teenager. Watching him drink had something quite captivating, but I now feared his opinion.

Do you like it?

I didn't dare to ask him but he spoke first, as if he had read my mind.

"It's pretty good."

Hearing that, I stood still. His voice had been so different, soft as a whisper, that I had shivered. Surprised and moved, I replied "thank you" at the same time as he did, and we observed each other for a moment, his eyes plunged into mine, perhaps seeing me for the first time, finally. 

Then, I drank my turn, before mustered all my courage. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but with him there was perhaps no "right time"... so, too bad. I was too curious, and this topic had been burning my lips for too long to ignore it.

"I have a question..." I said as I lifted my nose from my cup, praying he wouldn't get angry. "It's none of my business but... why do you live with that guy if the mood between you is so bad?"

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~POV Minho~

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Stupid squirrel...

First, I hated being told "I have a question" instead of asking it once and for all. I found that useless and overrated, even silly. Moreover, I knew it often accompanied an inappropriate or stupid question. So, immediately, my jaw tightened while I held back an annoyed sigh. That should have been enough to make my neighbor give up his question and not take the risk of crossing the red line. But no. The boy wasn't so smart.

Now he had put both feet in it, seeing I was glaring at him, his eyes repeated "sorry-sorry-sorry-sorry" but it was too late. His question had annoyed me, while I was busy enjoying his hot chocolate, which wasn't bad at all.

Ruining the mood' squirrel...

He didn't know what to do to make up for it so much that he suddenly got up to get some cookies from the kitchen. Now, sitting cross-legged on the sofa next to me, he was trying to escape my reaction by nibbling loudly, like the silly squirrel he was. If I didn't like hot chocolate so much and if his wasn't as good, I would have told him what I was thinking. But I didn't want to get angry. Plus, finally, talking or not to him didn't change anything for me.

"He's my uncle." I said.

At once, he turned to me but didn't seem extremely surprised. Perhaps he had already thought about a possible relationship between us.

"But if itch too diffichult, you donch have to chtay with him..." He mumbled as he finished an umpteenth cookie.

Immediately I frowned, distracted by his munching and his cheeks swollen like tiny balloons. Seriously, he was trying to save some for the winter?

"If it's too hard, you don't have to talk with mouth full." I replied with a mocking grin, enjoying his blushing and panic. "I have no choice, since I'm a minor."

At that very moment, however, I really thought he was going to choke. His eyes round like saucers, coughing loudly because he had swallowed the wrong way, the squirrel stared at me as if a pair of antennas had just grown on my head. Rushing on his drink to try to calm his cough, he asked me after catching his breath, in a completely bewildered tone.

"What did you say?!"

"I just turned 18 last week. I'm still a minor."

"Really?"

This time, I gave him a black look.

"If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here with that shithead."

I had answered in a cold, almost aggressive tone. But what a stupid squirrel... Did he really want me to get mad? I could already feel my body tensing when he put his cup on the coffee table, so amazed by the news he was almost talking to himself.

"That's crazy... I was sure you were in your twenties."

My neighbor didn't seem to know what to say anymore, as if he had just been hit on the head. Wasn't he exaggerating a bit? I slightly raised my eyes at the ceiling before taking another sip of hot chocolate.

"I don't see what that changes." I commented. "In both cases, I'm older than you. You entered high school last year, I bet."

The squirrel didn't answer right away. He looked at his hands for a quite long time, kneading his fingers before speaking, with a small embarrassed and almost sorry smile on his lips.

"Hm. I suppose guessing people's ages isn't always so easy..." He whispered without turning to me. "Last month, I turned 23."

.

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Hello! I hope you enjoyed this 4th chapter! Thank you if you pass by! Tell me what you think of this chapter. Do you like the POV?  I specify the story takes place in South Korea, where the majority is set at 19 years. Thank you all for giving me a chance by reading. Take care of yourselves! Kisses! <3