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✧━━ .·:*¨¨* 𓆩♡𓆪 *¨¨*:·. ━━ ✧

❥ 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 •°. *࿐

A month passes.

Each and every day feels like a newly forged secret, kept away in a treasure chest, off and buried along the shore of a raging sea that never came to tide. Day after day did a new dawn bring more memories, created in the cusp of a secret, hazed over in fog that breathed in the warmth that was shared between two entwined souls.

Jisung avoided his apartment as often as he could, tricking his mother into believing that he was a part of a study group for their upcoming end-of-year exams, giving way for more time that he could spend with Minho. They did as much as they possibly could together in the few hours that were allotted, walking to the park, meandering about the mall, getting food from a local diner, or even just choosing to hang out at Felix's house so they could both avoid their own.

Jisung didn't want this outcome, to have to hide everything they did together in the mere hope that their parents would never catch onto a single ounce of their relationship. Jisung just stayed away from his mother, keeping his mornings short and concise, the conversations a mere minimum.

His father, for the matter, seemed to sense the tension and had taken it upon himself to begin talking amongst the fog of silence, trying to bring his family back together. Jisung knew it was fickle, as he couldn't bring himself to forgive the words his mother had spat out of an old grudge. He also wasn't entirely privy to her apology, if it were to ever come, laced with a mild annoyance by the fact that she even had to apologize to begin with. Jisung knew his mother all too well, and on top of that, he knew that she'd never back down from her stance in regards to Minho.

She was stubborn, stuck in the way she corrupted thoughts about Minho and who he apparently was as a person, and more importantly, she had some sort of past with Minho's amazing father, and Jisung could only imagine the horrors she faced on her own accord in the likes of someone so truly desirable. But, to be completely clear, Jisung truly couldn't understand what anyone saw in Minho's father, save for his possible exterior appearance or whatever remained of a semi-normal personality. Minho had always explained that he was easy to agitate, easily wound into violence, and incredibly cold. How anyone could ever love someone like that, was far beyond anything Jisung could comprehend.

This last month has only further proven to Jisung just how worth it Minho was. He was growing way more comfortable at his old table, now beginning to talk again with Wooyoung in an advance to rekindle their close friendship. San and Jisung worked hard to get the pair and coerce them into chatting, even if just about something small, and trial after trial did they eventually rip the band-aid off, hypothetically speaking, talking about class before diving into something slightly deeper. It was a loving sight, watching as Minho's once tired features slowly grew to be more warm and content, his eyes finally withholding a certain spark that seemed to glimmer with adoration. Jisung knew that Minho was grateful for everything that he had done for him, especially given the idea that Minho finally reconciled with his old friends and had begun to repair the bridges he once tried to burn down. Sitting with him, day after day, watching as his smile slowly began to widen and his features seemed to soften more and more, made Jisung's heart whir.

Being together for nearly two months now, Jisung was overly attached to Minho and everything that he was. He had become a beacon of safety, an anchor in his stressful storms, and a means of escaping the realities that tried to pull him beneath the surface of such a catastrophic sea.

Jisung never imagined that he'd grow so easily attached to someone, especially the notorious bad boy that Minho was proclaimed to be. It was an interesting feat, watching as Minho melted into something completely softer than his apparent persona, and now all Jisung wanted to do was kiss him senseless and truly discover just how deep their relationship could root.

Even now, lost in his thoughts as they move through an oddly vacant mall, save for a few other passers by, Jisung finds himself clinging to the reality of Minho being here, being present; almost as if he couldn't believe that this was real. Yet, here he was, holding Jisung's hand, guiding him through the mall with a slight smile on his lips, carrying a bag of things that he had bought for himself because Jisung told him that he deserved to buy something nice.

Minho had partially described that he hardly ever bought anything for himself, mainly because his father wouldn't allow it, claiming that money was to be spent on food and pure necessities only, but Jisung would argue otherwise. Minho had been pushing himself in multiple ways, changing his attitude, opening his arms and trying to rekindle friendships while also embracing the current of change. Jisung explained over and over that he deserved to buy something a little nice, at least, as a gift to himself for working so hard and so diligently. Minho tried to argue otherwise, but Jisung countered with a smooth verse of: "if you don't buy something you like for yourself, I'll buy it instead. Your choice."

And, Minho being as stubborn as he is, simply refused to let Jisung buy something, so here he was, carrying a bag that held a new, well-made hoodie so he could get rid of the one he usually wore that was tattered in holes and loose strings.

"It's so quiet in here," Jisung points out, following Minho through the main aisle as they linger towards another random store.

"Yeah, it's nice though, isn't it? To be away from everyone, especially those who don't understand us."

"Oh, trust me, I love nothing more than being here with you," Jisung assures, earning a smile from Minho in response. "I just wish we didn't have to always hide like this. Does. . . your dad know you're seeing someone?"

"I wouldn't tell him," Minho says, taking a breath as he momentarily pauses. "He's. . . not very friendly to new people, and adding knowledge that I'm dating a guy might not go over well with him."

"He's homophobic?" Jisung asks, but Minho shrugs, seemingly indifferent.

"I don't know if I would say that, per se, but he's. . . well– maybe. I've never asked. He and my mom were raised a certain way, and I don't exactly meet those standards, so I have no idea how welcoming he'd be. Given his track record in my life so far, I'd rather just keep you away from him at all costs."

"So. . . you're not like– out?"

"No," Minho says, nearly under his breath, shaking his head to further emphasize his point. "There's no way I could be. He's. . . I mean, you know how he is. But even before it all, before the. . . the– uhm, the accident. He's never been one to entertain my likes and dislikes."

"You don't have to share the details of the accident with me if you don't want to, Minho, but I'm sorry you went through that. I'm sorry about your mom, I'm sure she was lovely and I would've loved to meet her," Jisung says quietly, his words a calming tide to the rough edges of Minho's sea. Jisung could sense the anxiety looming in his words, almost as if the topic made him slightly uncomfortable, and for a long minute did Jisung regret even bringing any of this up. Yet, to his surprise, Minho turns to glance at him partially, a smile slowly giving way to the once solemn look cast across his expression.

"She would've loved you," he begins quietly, his steps slightly slowing. "She was very artsy, mainly a painter by heart, but she loved creativity and stories; all of it. You guys probably would've talked for hours about those books you have on your shelves."

"What did she like most? Fiction, romance, drama–?"

"She liked anything that seemed. . . captivating. She was always in love with stories of any kind, especially if they held a little bit of everything. A little spice, a little bit of love, maybe some drama," Minho begins, gesturing with his free hand, his voice soft and endearingly sweet. Jisung could tell that Minho really loved his mother without having to ask, just based upon the fond way he spoke of her. Jisung still wasn't sure how Minho's mother had passed away, but based on rumors and from what Felix had explained, there was some sort of car accident that Minho had been present for, and if Jisung really tried to put the dots together in some sort of feeble attempt to create a visual puzzle, Minho's father blamed his own son for the death of his wife.

"She would've loved some of my books then," Jisung says, earning a hum of agreement from Minho in return.

"You should let me read one of those. I don't care which, I just wanna see what you're so obsessed with. I can't seem to pull your focus out of those damn books on our little study dates," Minho quips, a scoff in faux-offense from Jisung emitting in some sort of playful retort.

"I'll let you borrow one sometime," Jisung offers, squeezing Minho's hand. "But, you've been warned. They're kind of cheesy sometimes, so they might overdo it for you, mister romance."

"Mister romance?" Minho asks with a half-laugh, pulling Jisung towards the left side of the mall, bringing forth the view of an oncoming book store. "Well, why don't you let mister romance take you on a tour of his mother's favorite books?"

"You'd really show me that?" Jisung pauses his steps slightly, their hands dangling in the space between them as Minho pulls ahead slightly, slowing to not break the contact of their entwined grasp.

"Yeah," Minho agrees quietly, searching Jisung's expression. "I. . . I find it hard to keep my past a secret from you. Maybe I can't come clean about all of it now, but. . . this stuff, the happy stuff, it's nice to think about and to remember from time to time. Helps me realize that not all of my childhood was a complete waste."

"I wouldn't call it a waste, Minho," Jisung says, taking a few steps closer, moving to begin walking in tandem with his partner again. "It was just. . . difficult, more like. I don't know everything, but it definitely wasn't a waste. The universe gave me you, and yes, of course I wish I could take it all away or maybe hope that there'd be a different path in store for you in some sort of other future–"

"I'm glad you're here, Ji. Nothing that I went through was easy, that I'll admit. But, if I had to go through some of it again to end up here, like this, with some sort of peace in knowing that I'm healing, then I'd gladly do it. Just for you."

"Minho'ah," Jisung whines, earning a soft chuckle from Minho.

"I mean it, every word. You've always said that you like me for who I am, and. . . I wouldn't want to risk changing for fear that you wouldn't want me."

"I would still want you," Jisung assures, pulling Minho's hand up and towards his lips, kissing the skin that adorned his knuckles gently. "In every sense of the way. I just kinda think that we're destined to be."

"Soulmates? Is that what you're saying?" Minho asks, refocusing his attention on the book store that was just ahead of them.

"I don't know– maybe, mister romance. What do you think?"

"You've gotta stop calling me that," Minho laughs, but Jisung simply shrugs, his tone playfully teasing.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. You'll just have to find out! Don't dodge the question though, tell me. Soulmates, yay or nay?"

"I've never really taken the chance to. . . entertain the idea of that," Minho explains, keeping his steps at an even pace with Jisung as he led him into the book store. "But, I think anything is possible, and, well. . . you just make me feel a bit more positive these days."

"Oh, I just have that effect on you?"

"I suppose," Minho says, almost suggestively hanging on the balance of continuing, yet he doesn't, allowing Jisung to slowly lead their stroll into the book store's first few aisles, meandering through a crowd of books that seemed to withhold little interest.

"So," Jisung starts, turning to face Minho partially as he trails ahead slightly. "Books, right? What did she like?"

"Well," Minho says with a subtle breath, his head turning as he assesses the titles before him. "It's probably in the romance section, if anything."

"Oh?" Jisung smiles, his teeth sinking into his lower lip before he turned. "Let's head that way, shall we?"

With a gentle tug, Jisung leads his partner through the store in a careful manner, avoiding end-of-aisle displays filled to the brim with new mangas and novels alike. However, as Jisung kept trailing through the sections one by one, he realized that some of the sections were larger than the others, ranging from non-fiction to the opposite end of the spectrum, containing loads of fiction novels that were organized by author, alphabetically. There was something off about the store itself, bringing Jisung to wonder why the most popular type of book, in his opinion at least, would be this far back into the store. Perhaps it was some type of marketing scheme, created and crafted to draw readers further into the store so they'd be more likely to buy something else on the way to the register, or. . . was it simply because there weren't as many romantic novelists out there? Jisung knew he had to be wrong, especially given the times and how many people struggle with relationships and seem to find more comfort in fiction or narratives given by dramatic television shows and movies.

But, eventually, Jisung manages to find the hidden romance section, somehow across from the deeply embedded manga section and new-comers aisle, which seemed to be near the very back of the store itself. Jisung truly didn't understand the organization of this store, but given that he'd never been here properly, he supposes it was just because of his own lack of understanding.

"Here it is," Jisung announces quietly, taking a few steps into the aisle. "What was the title of the book?"

"The Unknown," Minho says, perusing through titles as he slowly walks forwards. "I can't remember the author's name, so, look closely."

Jisung briefly lets go of Minho's hand as he kneels down, scouring the bottom half of the display racks, looking past authors and looking to others instead, taking each title, each name, each cover into mind as he goes book to book. There seemed to be a vast array of titles and themes spread across the section, as Jisung takes note of some dramatically-themed covers, laced with introspection and a curiosity at what angst lay beneath. More so, he finds a few vampire-themed novels and action-packed romances that seemed to catch his eye, even if just slightly, but he knew that that was not what he was there for.

Suddenly, Minho pauses, staring at a book that must've been awfully familiar and had caught him by surprise. Jisung watches him, choosing to not pry, but to rather wait, patiently giving Minho the time to express whatever memories he was facing in the moment, but only if he wanted to.

"I didn't find it, but. . . I found something else," Minho says, his voice nearly monotone. "It's. . . also one of her favorites. One she never really told me about. She kept it hidden away, lost in her bookshelf, telling me that I wasn't old enough to really understand what it was about."

"Can I see it?" Jisung tentatively asks, watching as Minho's jaw clenches before it relaxes, giving way to a breath that seemed to chill his composure to a standstill.

"Yeah. . . c'mere." Minho reaches for the book, gently pulling it free of its confines before holding it delicately in his hands, almost as if he was afraid that it'd simply break or disappear from his grasp.

Jisung takes a few steps closer as he stands next to Minho, looking down at the book within his hands. It was a romance novel, an older one, one that was left with a simple cover that held a picture of a rose and a black background. The title was stark against the darkness of the cover itself, a simple, yet impactful image that softly squeezed the fabric of Jisung's heart as he read the title: Worn.

"She. . . never told you why she read this and kept it all hush-hush?" Jisung asks, taking a moment before glancing up at Minho.

"No, I. . . I never got the chance to ask. I kind of thought that I'd have more answers one day, but I feel as if I'm only left with more questions. The title is literally Worn, and. . . it worries me that there were aspects of their marriage that I didn't know about."

"Okay, hey," Jisung says, placing a hand on the cover of the book, but not in a manner to remove the novel from his partner's grasp, but rather to pause, to take a moment to just breathe. "Let's not make any assumptions. There's a lot behind the meaning of a book, and there's always smaller details hidden between the lines that some readers just tend to miss. Maybe she thought you weren't ready for a book that withheld so much meaning? She was probably protecting you, Min."

"Protecting me from who? From what? That's the problem, Ji. I want to understand. We're about to graduate, to move on and to finally become responsible for our own lives, and all she left me with is a bunch of fucking secrets and scars. Worn? Worn over what?"

Jisung looks down, moving his hand to slowly reveal the cover again, listening to Minho as he quietly rants amongst the book store that seemed rather vacant.

"Worn–" Jisung starts, wetting his lips. "Worn from life? From work? From. . . her marriage?"

"Do you really think–?" Minho begins, but Jisung could tell that he didn't really want to finish that sentence.

"I don't want to place my opinions into the matter, Min. I don't know what your father was like before. . . everything, and it wouldn't be fair of me to judge him before I really even knew what was happening. I know he's unfair to you, and quite an asshole if I'm being truthful, but I want to hope that he wouldn't treat your mother that way."

"I can't say that he's always been the best," Minho admits, brushing his thumb over the cover of the book lightly. "But. . . he loved her, you know? He was always strict, and maybe a bit more hard-headed than he realized, but she was his everything. He blames me for everything that happened, even though I really had no part in it. I don't think he'd hurt her, Jisung. She was his life."

"Maybe the only way for us to find out is to read it," Jisung suggests, which earns an automatic reaction from Minho in turn. His eyes widened slightly, brows rising before pinching together, trying to forge the best plan that he was seemingly able before making such a rushed decision.

"I wouldn't be able to, Jisung, I. . . I don't think I'm capable of that–"

"That's okay," Jisung assures quickly, planting his hand palm-down on the book, trying to calm Minho before whatever emotions he was feeling became a turrent of unrelenting pressure. "I can read it. But, only if you want me to."

"You'd do that?" Minho asks quietly, still holding onto the book, yet his eyes held Jisung's own, trying to likely search for understanding in why his partner was so willing to be a part of his past. Jisung knew all of this was hard, especially in regards to his mother, but all he wanted to do was understand. It was a particular situation, one that Jisung tried to handle gently, but given Minho's hesitance and slowly, softening expression, Jisung can only assume that he was touching a part of Minho's soul that no one has ever dared to conquer.

"I'd do it all if it meant I could make you happy," Jisung admits, keeping his voice low as he glances at the book again. "If this helps you reconnect with your mother in a way, I'd read it a million times if you asked me to."

"Thank you for saying that," Minho expresses, also glancing down at the book before he slowly gives in, handing it over to Jisung. "You always make me happy, Ji. This. . . doing this for me, anyway, just really makes my heart happy."

Jisung's cheeks flood with a sudden flash of redness, a smile curling on his lips as he looks back up at Minho, taking the book from his grasp. "You make my heart happy, too."

Minho leans forwards, pressing a kiss to Jisung's forehead before he takes a breath, likely trying to soothe whatever surge of emotions had been lingering beneath his skin. Jisung knew this was hard for Minho, but he was ever thankful that Minho was being as vulnerable as he was able.

"I'll buy it, it's the least I can do. Let's check out and go find something to eat after."

"I'm buying our food though," Jisung says, giving little room for Minho to argue against their plans.

"Fine, fine. I won't argue," Minho says with a playful roll of his eyes, turning away as he moves to lead Jisung towards the checkout counter. Jisung follows devotedly, a slight bounce to his step as he follows behind Minho, happy to just be within proximity of his partner.

They move through checkout, greeting the cashier politely as they move through the process. With a few clicks on the register, the cashier rings them up, placing the book into a bag carefully as Minho totaled out the payment with whatever cash he had in his wallet. After paying, Jisung thanks the cashier before they leave, feeling as Minho's hand slides into his own, lacing their fingers together as they exit the store.

The mall was still relatively vacant, save for a few couples here and there as they walked towards the food court, but otherwise, for a weekend, it was relatively quiet. Jisung was thankful, though, knowing that he was able to just be with Minho without the fear of judgmental others and prying eyes. However, this feeling didn't last for long as a small group of easily recognized males came into view, followed by the sound of familiar strings of laughter.

"Jongho, I meant what I said," Mingi begins, laughing softly. "He wouldn't know it was us if we simply just caused a little bit of trouble. We can get him, I promise."

Minho freezes, his hand slightly tightening around Jisung's as their steps come to an immediate halt. Jisung looks up at Minho before his gaze moves back towards Mingi, who had just turned and saw the both of them standing there.

"Well, would you look at that?" Mingi jests, smirking wildly. "If it isn't my favorite couple."

"I don't want to hear shit from you, Mingi. Pretend I'm not even here," Minho calmly responds, tugging Jisung a few inches closer, likely trying to find some sort of strength from their shared grasp and proximity.

"Aw, why so cold, Minho'ah? We used to be best friends, remember that? What happened to my sad, angry little Minho? Who the hell turned you into such a pussy?"

"Considering that you need to use words to belittle others, I'd like to think it's you that's a pussy, Mingi." Jisung squeezes Minho's hand back, trying to convey that he'd never be alone in this fight, regardless of who it was versus.

"Oh? You've found your voice once again? Need I remind you of why you like to avoid me?"

"I don't avoid you because I'm scared of you, I avoid you because you are irritating to deal with," Jisung retorts, earning an immediate glare from Mingi in response. "Oh? Touched a nerve, did I?"

Mingi rolls his eyes, glancing at Jongho, who was standing to his left. "Minho, you realize that he pities you, right? This whole relationship, this whole facade; it's an act!"

"This conversation is actually costing me some brain cells," Minho says with a drawl, sighing immediately after. "Let's go somewhere else, Ji."

"I wasn't done talking–!"

"No one cares, Mingi," Minho dismisses, gently ushering Jisung towards the right, trying to encourage the motion of simply just walking away.

Jisung's eyes catch sight of Hyunjin in the midst of all of this, watching as he settles into the background, hiding behind Mingi and Jongho's frames, playing an innocent bystander in all of this. Jisung could see the disappointment in his gaze, likely aimed at his own friends that he seemingly wished to be distant from. Minho didn't pay attention to anything else as he tried to walk away, allowing Mingi's words to be tossed at his back, met with an expressionless plea for the male to simply just stop.

Minho quickly led them away, listening as Mingi's banter eventually fizzled out, earning near-silence the farther the pair had chosen to trek away. As they reached a nearby store, Minho drew Jisung inside, taking a moment to just breathe as they settled into the corner. The store was also vacant, save for the quiet music playing overhead, but as Jisung looked around, he realized that they had hidden themselves in a video game store, of all places, lost amongst a corner shelf filled with displays of anime figures and smaller console games.

As he turns to look at Minho, he can see the irritation lingering behind his gaze, strung through the depths of his hues that seemed to rather root itself deeply. With a careful hand, Jisung gently reaches up to brush a few stands of Minho's hair aside, trying to see his gaze a little more clearly. He wanted Minho to know that he saw him, not just from the outside perspective, but that he rather could understand by just the look in his eyes. The frustration, the subtle laces of irritation and urgent depths of regret simmering just beneath the surface, lingering like a hungry shark beneath the tide of a restless ocean. Rather than being the shark though, Jisung feared that Minho saw himself as the prey, struggling to swim across the surface, fighting for a single plea of air that seemed inadvertently fruitless.

"Hey, it's alright to be angry with him," Jisung mutters, gathering Minho's attention away from whatever was going on inside of his head. With a fleeting glance, Minho's eyes flick towards the front of the shop, his gaze widening with the sudden sound of footsteps that seemed to be nearing them in a slower, cautious manner.

Jisung turns around, spotting Hyunjin standing there with a solemn expression. He looked worried, maybe partially disgruntled about whatever words he might've shared with Mingi before he made leave, but Jisung still didn't completely understand why Hyunjin was even with Mingi in the first place. Didn't Minho say that Mingi was giving him a hard time? Wasn't Hyunjin forcibly isolated because of Mingi's intolerable personality and decisions?

"Hey, sorry," Hyunjin begins, glancing down the moment he felt both pairs of eyes on him. "I should've told Mingi to stop, but. . . you know how he is."

"It's fine, Hyunjin, I just. . . want him to fuck off, sometimes. He truly is a fucking gnat," Minho explains with the essence of irritation lingering in his tone.

"A gnat?" Jisung asks with a subtle laugh, earning a glance from Minho in return. Though, despite his momentary frustration, a smile curves on the edges of his lips, which somehow mirrors itself onto Jisung's own. "Why a gnat?"

"Because they're annoying little fuckers–" Minho explains, breaking into a soft chuckle. "Yes, fine, you got me. It's a stupid analogy, but it's so fitting for him."

"He's not wrong," Hyunjin interjects, smiling despite himself. "I really need to start taking your advice, hyung. I need to leave Mingi behind me and try to do exactly what you have done."

"And what exactly did I do?" Minho asks, causing Jisung to turn, watching as Hyunjin's expression softens, his words rolling off of his tongue in a bleed for truth.

"You moved on, and you moved past it," Hyunjin explains. "I. . . I lost someone important to me because of him, and I have been too afraid to leave Mingi's side because I'll end up with nothing. Mingi gave me that security of having friends by my side regardless of what path I chose to explore, but I don't think I properly realized that all he's done is isolate me from where I really belong."

"I started seeing that too. It was a gradual thing, but. . . Jisung has this keen eye for seeing stuff like that." Minho turns to glance at Jisung, reaching his hand over to take Jisung's grasp within his own. "He also knows how to see past my bullshit, and that's what I need from him sometimes."

"I need Felix back," Hyunjin admits, his tone even, though Jisung could sense the undercurrent of something stronger just beneath the surface of his words. "I'm a fucking idiot for doing what I did, but I worry that I've caused too much damage."

"I don't think so," Jisung interjects, keeping his voice low; reassuring. "Felix misses you, Hyunjin. He might now show it, or really express it, but there's moments when we're all together, talking and chatting, and I can see that he's lonely and that there's a piece missing. He needs you in the same way, if not more. It might take time, but if you give him the chance to choose and maybe if you simply just listen rather than speak, you'd be surprised at how fast he'd reconsider this silence between the two of you."

"I know he likes affirmations and affection, but I. . . I don't even know where to start."

"Start slowly," Jisung says, glancing at Minho. "Sometimes, the most beautiful things start by surprise, and who knows? He might just be more willing to reconcile than any of us realize."