Character : Jisoo, Minghao

Paring : JiHao, MingSoo

Genre : angst, fluff?

Warning : illogical plot that cannot be explain tbh, character’s death (?)

Synopsis : “As memories get further away, the more you feel closer to them.”

A/N : idk you can say I got lazy towards the end.

A old tune of Frank Sinatra’s Fly Me To The Moon plays in the background as Jisoo packs the few remaining books of his from the old mahogany shelf to the cardboard box that sits on the dull floor. He can’t help but to trail his finger against the hardcovers of the book before picking them up off the shelf and dusting the unseen dust his eyes couldn’t see. Somewhere between the scanning of book titles and the pages in it, he hears a familiar faint laughing sound that blends with the music playing though he is reminded that he is alone in the small space he used to call home.

Jisoo shakes his head. “Focus. There’s no point looking back when thing’s are over.”, he tells himself, stacking the books in the cardboard box he had prepared before sealing it firmly with a cellophane tape. He gathers the box to the empty living room. Four spaces down, one room left. A room he dreads going into honestly. Regardless, Jisoo braces himself and enters the room, a familiar scent greets him as he enters.

“Hyung! Welcome home.”

Jisoo turns his head to where the homely voice comes from but sees no one there. “What a fool.”, he chuckles softly though mockingly to himself as he walks further in into the small space, a recollection of memories resurfacing to his mind as he picks up various fond items from the room, taking a quick glance at them before putting them in the cardboard box he held. Like that, Jisoo goes back and forth from the room as he stuffs more of the room’s items into the cardboard boxes, bringing the ones that still meant something to him.

After a span of an hour or so, Jisoo’s got almost everything cleared, leaving for a few items and books on the shelves and drawers. He goes through the shelves first, a few books of his ends up being there and in between, a few sketchbooks that do not. Once he is done for most part of it, he then goes through the drawers, finding a small photo book containing pictures of him and Minghao. 

Minghao. Minghao. Minghao. Minghao. Minghao. Minghao. 

The word keeps playing in Jisoo’s head, drowning the music away as Jisoo feels himself go numb. Minghao is certainly someone important to him. He browses through the pictures in hand; pictures of him and Minghao smiling, of them going on dates, of them sharing skinships and some of when they’re out with their close friends. Minghao is his lover. 

But where is he now?

Epilogue :

Jisoo turns his head towards the room’s entrance and smiles, pocketing the photographs in his pocket and makes his way out of the door; out of his ‘house’ as the sunlight greets him warmly.

“Hyung. Welcome home!”