(87) What would you do if you never met me?

A/N: that’s it i’m officially trash for the bestfriends to lovers trope, i regret nothing. (つД`)ノ

God damn it, Minho, I swear if you’re not here any second now—

You’re practically punching holes into your phone screen, endless threats flipping through your head, wishing that it would magically appear into the text message itself because you’re on the brink of a mental breakdown. 

He’d left your string of text messages unanswered, the first of many demanding whether he was serious when he innocently said, Oh, you left your keys? Does that mean you’re staying another day ‘cause there’s no way in hell I’m going back all the way to the station.

The familiar announcement blares through the station once more, only to amp up your restless pacing back and forth the entrance of the gate, your eyes desperately swimming through the ocean of people for any sign of him. 

Minho appears not long after, taking the sweetest time as he saunters around the place so casually but you’re more relieved than annoyed to protest, scuttling towards him, screaming his name at the top of your lungs. He stops, staring at you wide eyed and you’re happily breathless by the time you reach him. 

He’s choking out a laugh when you squeeze him in a bone crushing hug, your cheeks squished passionately onto his chest. Funny how it’s the second time he’s here, the first one being a sappy episode of him dropping you off an hour ago, after spending the weekend away from your dorms.

“You came!”

“Of course I would.” Minho rolls his eyes, cringing while he recalls your raging text messages, “It’s not like I had a choice. Jesus— must you be so violent?” 

You stifle a laugh, rubbing a knuckle over the tip of your nose, “I’m sorry! You weren’t answering and I was panicking, I’m not even home yet and I’m already locked out of my own room, Minho. Hey— stop laughing!” 

Amusement stretches across his face, brows dangerously high they might as well fly off. Minho digs into the pockets of his yellow hoodie, fishing out your rattling keys with a brilliant smile. It’s always fun and games with him, you should’ve known after all these years, raising the keys higher, out of your reach when you try to snatch it away from him. 

It’s been almost a year since you saw him last, finally coming back to town after his nonstop pestering, guilt tripping you for picking a university so far from home, so far from him. But despite being two peas in a pod, you were your own person and he was his. 

Maybe it’s because you were so used to seeing him every day that you didn’t really expect it to be any different. But seeing him by the bus stop two days ago, you almost had to do a double take. You took note of his cheek bones, prominent from the weight he lost, his clean cut hair, smelling of vanilla musk, different to the aftershave that every high school boy seemed to reek of back then. 

You’ve always found him handsome, but you didn’t see him that way. Minho doesn’t see you that way. 

He gasps out fits of laughter, curling forward when you throw a playful punch to this belly, hopping in place to swiftly take hold of your keys. Minho smiles defeatedly, “What would you do if you never met me?” 

“I’ll live.” You shrug, teasing him with a smile.

“Liar.” He says, a tad bit quietly and you’re somewhat taken at the seriousness under his tone.

“What makes you think that I can’t live without you?” 

In return, Minho could only stare, the sheepish smile wiped off his face and it’s a bit too late to reel back your words, not realizing that it may have hurt him.

“I don’t. I know you’ll be fine without me.”

It sends a pang to your chest hearing him say this, but you were never the type to expect much from him after all. You know him better than anyone else, always one to say that he’ll never settle down and you’re only looking out for yourself; Minho has his own fair share of broken hearts pinned to his sleeve. 

“But it’s not the same for me.” He continues, the goofball of a person he was just minutes ago disappearing before your eyes and here stands someone else, vulnerable.

The sudden change makes you question his true intentions, was this why he was so hell bent in begging you to come by? The way his eyes lit up when he saw you for the first time after a while, the same one he always had even back then. Did it mean something else? 

“That’s not fair, Minho.” You didn’t know what else to say, but you felt cheated somehow, out of all times, why now?

He looks down to his feet, failing to hide a wistful smile as he does so, “You’re right, feelings aren’t fair sometimes.”

“But ours is different, I guess.” Minho looks ahead, avoiding your gaze as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, resting his chin gently on top of your head, “For us it’s never fair.”

//