You jerked awake from your sleep to find that the room was pitch dark making you unaware of the actual time. It took you a while to realize that you hadn’t slept until night time,tapping your phone to see that it was way past noon.

Minho had closed the blinds shut before he left, you felt that pang in your chest to see the empty space next to you. Sleeping with him was something you’d been so used to since you got together, finally knowing what the fuss was about not going to bed and waking up alone. Though the latter was an exception when it comes to your relationship with Minho, when most mornings he’d gone off for his schedule, just like today. He’d left you a message, as he always does,

Hey… didn’t want to wake you up, but duty calls. I hope you slept well, pretty face :)

Guilt washed over you, he must have not gotten a wink of sleep as the message was sent six hours ago. Before you could roll off the bed to finally start whatever was left of your day, your mother’s name flashed across your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey sweetie- are you still in bed? Isn’t it noon over there?”

“I woke up ages ago, Mom.” You lied, propping your self up, resting your throbbing head on one hand.

“Don’t you think I would know when you lie? You spent-”

“Nine months inside you, I know.” You recited, and she laughed at your response.

“Rough day, hm?” She asked, besides the obvious tone that you’d only just woken up, she sensed something off in your voice.

“You can say that, yeah.” You sighed, dropping your head back onto the bed as you recall last night’s events.

“Is this about that guy you met?”

Yes.

“No…” You muffled against the pillow and of course, it just had to smell like Minho.

A couple weeks back, you had confided to your mother after much pestering from her. She’d suspected that something was going on, never failing to amaze you with those instincts of her. That or she was just too snoopy for your own good. You told her that you were seeing someone, purposely leaving ‘And oh, he’s a famous rapper mom, no big deal’ part out of the conversation.

She knew who Minho was, even treating him like her own son back then. Hell, she might have even loved him more than you. He was polite, and respectful, definitely earning a soft spot in her heart. But you doubted how she’d react if she knew what he does, who he is. So you decided not to tell who you were seeing in great detail. Despite being the difficult brat who never listens to anything I have to say, you were her own daughter after all. Seeing you get hurt was the last thing in her agenda, if not at all.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Mom- What do I do?” You rasped, face buried in the crook of your elbow. “Tell me what to do.”

“Did he hurt you?”

There was no hiding it from her, she could almost feel the pain in your voice.

No, but it hurt. Everything hurt.

“Did you tell him you were leaving?” She asked after your silence, to which you hummed out a meek yes.

“Goodness, I didn’t think anyone could get to you like this. I’d love to meet him.” She chuckled softly in efforts to brighten up your sullen mood.

She really did wonder who it was, who it was that managed to break down your walls that even she had trouble getting into sometimes. You’d always brushed off her attempts to set you up on dates, but it never lasted, or even got to a second date. You insisted that you’ve got plenty of time, and there’s so much more you have to look forward to. That there’s no rush, you’ll meet someone when it’s right.

And hit you, the fact that you’d already met that someone. You’d met him long before you even left this place. It was difficult for you to let anyone else in, because maybe, it was already occupied in the first place.

“So are you ever going to show me a photo of him?”

“Mom-”

“No? Fine, a name? I think I deserve a name at least.”

“It’s… Minho, Song Minho,”

“Oh, honey.”

~

Your mother took the news better than you had expected.

“That boy loved you.”

“He did, didn’t he?”

“Good heavens, child.” She rambled on about how you can be so clueless with these things, “You’re so so smart, but when it comes to-”

“Mom.” 

“You were such a nagger,” She laughed softly, “Yet he still looks at you that way. I remember.”

You were on your way back from your last day in the office. Seoul’s busy traffic blurred alongside its city lights across the window of the cab you were in. It was somewhat melancholic, how you were back here only for a little while and it shouldn’t be this hard to leave, but the memories you’ve made felt like a lifetime’s worth.

There was about week left before your scheduled leave, and Minho had been caught up with work, so you promised to drop by the studio. You needed to say your goodbyes to the rest of the boys anyway, seeing how busy they all were, you weren’t sure when you’ll see them again.

Minho weren’t picking up your calls, and you were still a stranger to their workplace. It’s not like you can just waltz in like you own the place, so you stood outside the building for quite sometime until he answered your call.

Only it wasn’t him on the other line.

“Hey, Minho went off somewhere, the kid left his phone.” You hear Seunghoon chuckle, “What’s up? You’ve been calling a few times, sorry about that.”

“Oh, I’m outside right now. I’m not sure where to head to actually.” You laughed, jogging in place to distract yourself from the cold.

“Ah really? Hold on, I’ll get you.”

~

“So it’s this friday, huh?” Seunghoon asked, closing the door to the studio behind him after you.

“He told you?” You said quietly, turning around to face him.

“Mmhm. It’s all he thinks about. I can tell.” Seunghoon smiled sympathetically. 

“Yeah, same here.” You said with a bleak laugh, and he looked at you with pity in his eyes.

“He writes a lot, about you.” He mused, pulling a chair out for you. “The songs, I mean.”

“He does?” You asked, surprised.

Seunghoon nodded subtly from the side, “He’s really good, no doubt.” Grinning like a proud parent. He faced the doorway, seeing someone come in, “Speak of the devil-”

“You’re ting me right?” Minho hissed, barging into the room, hands through his hair.

“Yah, cool it.” Seunghoon stood up, motioning his head towards you, fully aware how startled you suddenly were. “She’s here.”

Minho heaved a sigh, you see his shoulders dropped as his eyes rested on you. “What are you doing here?”

“You told me to come, Minho-ah.” Your searched his face, wondering when he last had proper sleep. He looked so run-down.

He looked up, shutting his eyes with a nod, “Of course.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Hyung, they rescheduled last minute.” His voice was heavy as he spoke.

“Again? Well as long as it’s not tomorrow-”

“It’s. This. Thursday.” Minho had his eyes closed, he was frustrated and you knew why.

Your flight was scheduled the day after.

~

You said your farewells and you couldn’t help but crack out a smile as Jinwoo assured you that you’ll see them again, he just- had this feeling. Seungyoon pulled you into a hug, and before letting go, you managed to whisper out, “Take care of him for me.” You gulped down that lump in your throat as he smiled, “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay.”

Minho stayed quiet the entire time, just like he was as he drove you back home. You found out that they all had to go out of town for that schedule he got so worked up over.

He had a stoic expression, eyes fixed on the road in front. You placed your hand on his as he reached out to change gears. He turned his palm upwards, closing your fingers in between his.

“We still have time.”

“You said that two weeks ago, and two months before, and-” He his lips, still not looking at you. “It sure didn’t feel like we had time.”

“Why don’t you say it?”

“Say…?”

“Tell me to stay.”

Minho almost missed the right turn, “- you really do have a knack for dropping things on me like this.” He smiled for the first time after leaving the studio.

“It wouldn’t be fair for you, that’s why.” He added, “You’ve got your parents, your job, your friends elsewhere. Your life isn’t here, how can I tell you to stay?”

But you’re here. You wanted so much to say, but he was right. So right, you couldn’t find the words to say next.

~

“There’s not much left in the kitchen, we could have take out if you want. My treat.” You’d emptied out most of your apartment by now, Minho eyed the opened suitcases lined outside your bedroom door.

“Maybe later, I’m not hungry.”

“That’s something I never thought you’d say, Song Minho.” You chuckled, slipping off your coat as you walked away from him. He loved to look at you from a distance, never getting used to the sight.

“You can treat me with something else.” His voice definitely hinted something else.

“Maybe later, I’m not hungry.” You mimicked, biting the inside of your cheeks, holding back that huge smile as he muttered out sweet hell, you tease.

An attractive one, for that matter.

“Stay there, one sec.” He held out one hand before you could move. He fished out his phone from the pockets of his jeans.

You heard the shutter click, flustered because you’d expected a countdown of some kind from him. A smile crawled on his lips as he went over the shot.

“This photo does no justice, I ing swear.” He said with a laugh, “You’re beautiful.” 

~

The lights of the departure hall were blinding, mentally agreeing to yourself that you got here a little too early. Unnecessary waiting that you could’ve easily avoided was something you had aimed for- just to save yourself from any kind of thinking. Which you’ve been tirelessly doing the past few days, your head pounded just thinking about thinking. It was overwhelming.

You sat facing the check-in counter for your booked flight, there was still no sign of any attending staff. It was for the best, you figured. The fact that Minho couldn’t be here to send you off. You’d dried out your tear ducts completely, convinced that you couldn’t cry anymore than you already did.

Time seemed to go slowly, wondering why this was, when your entire stay here felt like a blur. You tugged the pointed pendant of the necklace you had on, something of his that he gave you. Or put on you while you were sleeping more like. Which creeped you out the next morning, thinking that you’d went out to rob someone in your sleep as you might have completely lost it.

You were too focused trying to distract yourself from the thoughts of him, you didn’t realize that someone had approached you. He stopped a few steps in front of you, and some how, the whole scene felt familiar. He had the hood of his jacket over his head, he covered much of his face with that mask and beanie he had on. But you couldn’t miss the crinkle of his eyes as he smiled, just like the first time you met him on that very train. It was ironic how he’d come to say goodbye the same way he’d say hello.

Minho took his seat next to you, without saying a word he weaved his fingers in between yours, sliding your hand into his pockets. The two of you sat in silence, and you were reminded of the things he said last.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Minho.”

“Isn’t it funny though?“

“What is?”

“You can still love each other so much. But in spite of all of that, it doesn’t mean it works. ”