Thank you for all your love and I'm grateful for your comments. Here's Taemin's POV as I promised.

It . I'm so sorry.

It all starts in that one morning, Taemin gets up and realizes Minho doesn’t love him anymore.

It feels weird. And very wrong. To the point that it makes Taemin panic.

Minho and Taemin aren’t soul mates, high school sweethearts or even boyfriends. They just hang out, sometimes stealing a quick kiss here or a soft caress there, and even . No, they are not friends with benefit. Minho loves Taemin and Taemin loves Minho. It’s just that they can’t bring themselves in a serious relationship.

It’s not commitment issue, Taemin’s sure about that. Because he’s always willing to try a serious relationship with Minho.

But they just can’t. And Taemin understands.

It was one of the summer days, with Taemin lying on Minho’s couch, with his head on Minho’s laps, playing games on his phone while the elder running his hand through the dark and soft locks of Taemin’s. Taemin relaxed as he felt the elder’s alluring smile above him, with his long fingers caressed every strands of Taemin’s hair. And maybe it was Minho’s cologne or shower gel but Minho smelt like cinnamon and new leather (which smells really great) and sunlights and chocolate and forrest and it made Taemin really calmed and as usual, madly in love. So when he felt the elder’s lips on his hair and then on his lips, he was sure that his heart had exploded into fireworks, burnt into bits and overwhelmed with emotions.

“Let’s date, Taemin.”

He trusted his ear no more.

“I love you, Taemin. Let’s date.”

Oh how much Taemin loved the sound of that. He loved it so much that he hardly wasted anymore second to answer.

“Okay.”

It still surprises Taemin to this day as how fast he finds himself respond to his proposal like that, as if he was acting by instinct, the instinct to fall into Minho’s heart and opened arms and eyes and keep falling deep, deeper until Minho would be there to catch him. He has loved Minho for so, so long. So long that it started to wound his own heart and when there is the chance for them to be together, he throws himself into that unescapable pit.

His biggest fear is that one day Minho will fine him boring and obnoxious and stubborn and clingy because that’s who Taemin is, and finally leaves him to someone more endearing. So he vows to only do things that satisfies Minho. Soon it becomes obedience.

Whether it’s their first kiss, their first date, the first time they have , it’s always coming from Minho. And Taemin does no protests, no arguments, and even eagerly to follow with the flow. He willingly and obediently does whatever Minho says, as long as it keeps Minho happy.

“Taemin, let’s kiss.”

“Okay.”

“Taemin, I found a new movie, wanna watch?”

“Okay.”

“Taemin, I bought you some clothes. Try it on.”

“Okay.”

“Taemin, there’s new restaurant on my friend’s neighborhood. I want to try. Come with me.”

“Okay.”

“Taemin, I want you.”

“Okay.”

Or so he thought.

It’s suffocating.

But Taemin finds it fine, as long as Minho’s still with him. Or so he thought.

Minho wakes Taemin up. The boy still curls up in a ball with their thick blanket around his bare body, bare as the day he was born, his milky white and soft as a baby’s skin glows in the sunlight, his thick hair sprawls freely on the pillow, his eyelashes rest peacefully above his cheeks and his plump lips purse out a little in a motion of breathing. He is still in deep slumber, contented and warm within his heart as the night full of love before, and he is anticipated to meet with his sweet, sweet Minho after opening his eyes.

But somehow Taemin has that uncertain and insecure slump stuck up in his throat, and he doesn’t want to open his eyes this time. He clutches the blanket close to himself.

He feels Minho waking him up. Roughly. Shoving the blanket out of Taemin’s grip until the boy opens his eyes in disturbance.

“Taemin.”

“Hm?” His voice is thick of sleep and hoarse from their three sessions last night. The usual Taemin would find it embarrassing but it will turn to happy when Minho says his voice is cute like that. However the current Minho just wrinkles his nose in pure disgust and it makes Taemin’s heart jumps to his throat in terror.

“Let’s break up.”

What?

Surely he doesn’t mishear-----

“What?”

“I’m tired of you, tired of your denseness, tired of your obedience, tired of your everything. I need a break.”

Oh.

So that it is. Even with his obedience, his biggest fear still comes true.

His vision blurs. His head fills with tactics. His eye sockets burns and his irises loses focus. His body aches everywhere. His backside, his thighs for spreading too wide last night, his neck and shoulders for Minho biting them like they’re delicious meat and the man was starving, his head, his fingers for holding the sheets too long, and his heart. It’s being scratched, bleeding.

“Oh…”

“Yeah. So. Let’s break up.”

There is a pause.

Taemin wills himself not to cry. He never cries.

“Okay.”