changes

Jinki's body stirred and his eyes shot open, awakening as if he hadn't even been asleep, but rather just in deep thought all night.

He may as well have been. He hadn't felt rest for a long time.

His eyes met the sight of a chipped, peeled ceiling. He stared up blankly at it, not gathering his thoughts, not caring to figure out where he was, nor trying to recall events from the previous night. All he did was lie there, blinking slowly, face dry, lips cracked, shirtless and recognizing that he still was.

Still alive.

He lifted his body slowly to sit up in the bed, acknowledging but not quite reacting to the soreness in his muscles. The pain was familiar, almost... comforting.

He took the opportunity to look around, to see if he could piece together a scene that made sense to his short-term memory.

To the right of him on the mattress, he noticed another guy sprawled out in an upright sitting position, back against the wall. He was shirtless as well, with a shoelace fastened tightly around his upper arm. His eyes were lidded and the part of his eyes that were exposed were bloodshot.

He honestly didn't know if the man was asleep or awake. Alive or dead.

Jinki turned his head to the other side of him, this time noticing a low table. On it, a razor, some empty needles, spoon, lighter. He leaned over and picked up a used syringe, sliding it into the pocket of his sweatpants.

He pulled himself up to stand. Below him, he could see the scatter of empty bottles of Henessey and New Amsterdam all over the carpet. Along with the strewn clothes that also littered the floor, they could have made a second layer of carpet.

He swallowed thickly, his throat dry. He shuffled his feet through the mess on the floor of the bedroom, initially looking for his own shirt. Of course, he didn't remember what it looked like so ultimately, he was willing to settle for any piece of clothing that looked like it would fit him.

Jinki turned around when he heard the aforementioned body behind him tumble off the bed. He heard a low groan accompanied by a " me" and watched indifferently as the man whose consciousness was undetermined only minutes ago crawled over to the nightstand. He kneeled in front of it intently, using his index finger to gather up whatever residue was left of the piles of powder that were previously there from the night before.. After collecting a little pathetic pile of his own, the man held one nostril down and leaned over the substance, inhaling it with his open airway.

The man sat back against the bed with a sigh. He finally looked up at Jinki who had been rudely staring the whole time. He seemed to be moderately unhappy about that fact.

"Why don’t you take a picture." the guy spat, with a glare as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. He grabbed the lighter from the nightstand. "in' dickhead." he mumbled, working to light the cig in his mouth.

Jinki didn't respond to the comment. He hadn’t been watching in judgement. He hadn't felt like he was “better” than the other man in the room. On the contrary. He thought they were both pathetic. They were both in the same place, both for the same reason. And after all, Jinki himself did grab that needle. They were no different.

Jinki returned to his search of an adequate top. He found a big zip-up hoodie that was sure to fit him. He slid it on and zipped it up, not really concerned about putting a shirt underneath it.

"So, what did I tell you, huh? I got good . I’m still off my in’ . Good , huh?" the nameless man said with a raspiness to voice after he took a drag.

Jinki only nodded. “Yeah. It was... good , man.”

”Tell your friends to come here for the best. Jong’s Laboratory.” he smirked proudly. 

Jinki nodded again disingenuously. He wasn’t gonna do that. He had no friends and really didn’t even trust the guy. Who gets high off his own supply? Plus, Jinki already had a dealer of his own who was just out of town.

 "That's mine." Jonghyun commented, gesturing in general to Jinki’s torso, which Jinki took to mean the hoodie he’d just equipped.

Jinki remembered the man vaguely from the previous night. He didn’t remember much of the night itself, but he assumed this was ‘Jong’s’ crackhouse that they were in.

This wasn't a new experience for him, waking up in random places, with random people. He had many gaps in his memory. Hell, he welcomed them. The less he remembered of his pitiful life, the better.

It was pretty repetitive anyway.

”I’ll return it.” Jinki mumbled. Though, he knew he wouldn’t.

”Hm. Yeah, I know you’ll be back.” He stated cockily. “.” He rested his head back against the mattress and closed his eyes. He took another puff from the cigarette. “They always come back.” He sing-songed.

Jinki held back an eye roll. He wasn’t coming back to this hole. The only reason he was there in the first place was because it was the closest place for him to get fixed up. He didn’t even take the guy seriously when taking into account the physical and mental state the guy was in. Nevertheless, Jinki nodded a final time and left the room. As he walked toward the exit of the house, he noticed more people and more rooms. Most of the people were laid out but he caught sight of a few walking around like zombies. They probably would have said the same about him. He left through some back exit.

they might drive you half insane but 

Jinki stepped into the early morning brisk, mid-drizzle. It was about 5 in the morning. The air was cool and hard, it cut across the parts of him that were exposed to it.

He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he skulked down the street. He moved purposelessly, his mind running with thoughts.

For some reason, he’d been thinking so much lately. He hadn’t always been doing that. Once he got accustomed to his junkie life, he almost never thought. He lost his judgement, making whatever decision resulted in him getting high.

That had ALWAYS been the goal, for almost 5 months now. Get as high as you can. Get away from your brain. Forget the loneliness, forget the worthlessness, forget the pain. Feel either happiness or numbness.

But all of the sudden, the loneliness started to stab through the numbness. The worthlessness started to soak up the happiness. They gained so much power and eventually became something his highs could no longer fix.

So he had to return to thinking.

Jinki was smart, thinking was something he did well. He was conscious of the fact that if he didn’t act fast, his addiction would increase in severity. And he found that the severity of his addiction was positively correlated with extreme feelings of worthlessness that accompanied his highs. Sure, he’d felt great momentarily. But once he was low again, he was low. Below the ground.

If the drugs didn’t consume him alive, depression surely would.

He didn’t want to die. He actually wanted to live. He just hated himself so much that he didn’t think he deserved to. And honestly, he forgot how to.

He had to get back to a time when he knew how to live.

Jinki walked into his broken down apartment building, just as the rain started getting heavy. His stolen thin hoodie would have been no match for it.

He trudged up the four flights stairs to the fourth floor, where unfortunately he lived. The elevator had been broken since he moved into the place over a few months ago, so he’d been accustomed to the stairs. 

He thought about the times that he’d been so out of it that he couldn’t even make the walk up to his apartment. Many times he’d been woken up by a janitor or neighbor after passing out on the stairs.

He walked into his ratty, hole-in-the-wall apartment. Although he would describe it as better than the place that he woke up in that morning, it would only be because there were no other junkies at his place.

The building was old with a lot of functionality issues. However, that’s what made it just cheap enough for Jinki to afford while also maintaining his addiction. 

He stood in the middle of his apartment, silently looking around at it, feeling exceptionally dissatisfied. 

They say that insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.

Maybe he was insane.

He spent every single day trying to run away from himself. But he always ended up in the same place with no one to face but his very own self.

He felt so unbearably empty. He craved a feeling. He longed for one. For all. Joy, sorrow, hope, excitement, disappointment, strife, pride, pain. It had been so long since he felt any of those. He hadn't been living, just surviving, and barely even dong that. He missed living. He missed his little brother, Taemin. He missed Minho. He hungered for them and the feelings that his relationships with them gave him.

He missed love.

They stopped associating with him, which Jinki very well knew he deserved. He had pushed them away. Stolen from them. Put them at the bottom of his priorities.

He had never even tried to get clean before. Not for them, not for himself, not for anyone. He never even cared enough to lie about trying to get clean.

He treated them terribly. Especially Minho. Of course, Jinki didn’t expect him to still be available to him. But he still missed the younger so much.

Dragging his lethargic body into the bathroom, he pulled the hoodie off of it and dropped it onto the floor carelessly.

Jinki ran the water for his shower. It took some time to warm up. It was just another of the things in his apartment that was kind of broken.

Before he removed his pants, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror.

He was hideous.

His hair was disheveled, sticking out all over the place. His cheeks were sunken in. He had bags under his eyes and his skin was tinted gray. His eyes trailed the outline of his bony, frail body, a result of choosing “needles over noodles” as his dealer, Kibum, would colorfully put it. He ran his fingers along his waist line, which had been the site of quite a few injections, with the scars to prove. He had other scars, too. Some from fighting, some from falling.

He rarely looked at himself in the mirror, usually too disgusted with the sight. But today, he really wanted to see it. He needed to see it. It was like it brought him to reality.

He reached underneath his sink and pulled out a hair clipper. 

There wasn't a huge thought that accompanied Jinki's action of turning the razor on and sliding it back against his scalp. That was the point of what he was doing. He felt nothing. He was gonna do something to make himself feel. To change.

As the chunks of his hair fell off of his head, he felt a tiny sense of relief. It felt like he was at the start of being made new, metaphorically shaving off his ugliness. Ironically, Jinki's hair had been the only part of him that had looked remotely healthy. But he didn't care. 

He stared at his low, terribly unevenly cut layer of hair and did something that he hadn't in eons.

He cracked a smile.

It was brief, it was tiny, and if you blinked, you'd miss it. But it happened. 

He went in his pocket and pulled out the empty needle from earlier, his smile instantly fading. He placed it on his sink. The way he stared at it—it was like seeing saltwater after being stuck in the desert. It’s water and you’re parched so you’re dying to drink it. However, it only appears to quench your thirst, when what it will actually do is make your condition worse. Drying you up.

With that thought, Jinki undressed himself and got into the shower.

it's killing you to stay the same but

It was well into the evening by this point, and Jinki was about ready to screw change and find his next fix. He was getting really worked up.

He needed a distraction, fast. His anxiety had skyrocketed and he was getting restless, panic slowly beginning to set it in.

He hadn’t gone one full day with out doing heroine in 2 months. His decline had happened so quickly. Six months ago, he had a great job, living in a comfortable apartment with the love of his life. Four months ago, he was laid off, sneaking around to support his (at the time) gentle habit, and fighting with Minho daily. Two months ago, he became a daily user. Now, he was trying to quit.

Trying.

He rushed to open his window for air. It was storming outside. He tried to get his mind off the stress his body was under. He felt like his heart was shaking around in his chest.

His breath hitched as his muscle ache returned, this time really bothering him this time around.

This was it. He knew it was gonna be a bumpy ride, but he was wanted it so bad. He wanted to go back home.

He gripped the sill of the window so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He was trying to steady himself but his mind and heart were racing. The support from his arms weakened so he let himself sink down to his knees.

His closed eyes trying to just relax. He tried to take steady, deep breaths, but they all just came out shaky. He rubbed his forehead, when he realized how much he was already sweating.

He couldn’t do this. 

He crawled across his dirty living room carpet slowly from his position on the floor. When Jinki reached for his phone, that’s when he really noticed just how much he was shaking. He could barely pick the device up. 

When he finally did get a hold of it, he scrolled the his contacts. He decided was gonna call his dealer, Kibum. Maybe he was back in town. If he had just a little, he would still be okay, Jinki convinced himself. 

He scrolled to ‘K’ in his phonebook, but just as he was about to click the call button, Jinki noticed the name directly below Kibum’s.

Minho.

God, how he missed Minho. Somehow, it felt that all of his current pain was exacerbated by the fact that Minho was no longer in his life.

Which again, Jinki knew was all his fault.

You can’t lie to someone and steal from them and expect them to stay with you. Jinki knew that. He knew he was undeserving of Minho.

Minho had tried so hard to make it work between them. After Jinki had successfully hidden his addiction for about a month, Minho found out about it. He also found out that Jinki would easily steal money from his partner’s wallet or items around the house in order to support the addiction. And while he was livid about it, he tried to meet Jinki with understanding and offer help.

But Jinki always refused. Kept lying. Kept stealing.

So Minho left.

Jinki couldn’t fathom how or when it happened but at some point, he became this. A broken shell of a man, sitting on the floor of the living room, shaking. And dialing Minho’s number.

He knew Minho should hate him, but on the off-chance that he didn’t... Jinki would kill to have Minho near him right now.

”Hello?”

Jinki swallowed thickly, realizing he didn’t think this through. He should’ve considered how shallow and shaky his voice was.

”A-ah.. M-Minho?” Jinki mentally cursed himself for sounding the way he did. But he couldn’t help it.

“Jinki...?” 

He breathed out shakily. “H-Hi.. I-I.. I-I’m...” He really should have practiced beforehand.

”Jinki... are you okay??”

”I.. I-I really... n-need you.. M-Minho.. Please. Pl-please..” he begged weakly, trembling pathetically. 

“Jinki? What’s going on? Where are you? Are you at home?”

”Y-y-yes.. Will y-you come...? I c-can’t do this a-alone...”

”I’m coming, Jinki. Just stay right there, okay?? Stay there, I’m on my way. I’m coming.” 

The call cut out.

Jinki dropped the phone and curled into a fetal position against the wall. He was in pain, he was shaking but... 

Minho was coming.

It had been about 20 minutes until Minho got there. It felt like three hours to Jinki. He was in the same position, body in a ball, leaning sideways onto the wall, heavy tremors coursing through his body. He thought this was the worse feeling in the world.

Until he saw Minho. Nothing could have prepared Jinki for the amount of shame that he felt seeing Minho.

Minho came rushing into the apartment, instantly scanning for some signs of danger before eventually his eyes fell on pale, thin, sickly looking Jinki, who he almost didn’t recognize. He rushed to his side.

”M-minho...” Jinki hadn’t seen Minho in months. He looked even better than Jinki remembered. 

”Sweet Jesus, Jinki...” Minho mumbled in shock at the appearance of the other. “What’s going on? I...” 

“I-I’m qui... quitting.” Jinki had wanted it to come out cooler than that but at the moment he didn’t have much liberty in how his sentences were delivered, if they even came out of him.

Minho’s heart skipped a beat at those words, but he tried not to show hope. Jinki had never tried to quit before, he never wanted to.

“What, a-are you serious...? Um... i-is this a normal reaction to quitting??” Minho asked, hesitantly. He didn’t know what to do in this situation. Jinki looked terrible and he was trembling like crazy. Minho lifted his hand to wipe some of the insane amount of sweat off of Jinki’s face, feeling how hot the older’s skin was.

”Jesus, you’re burning up! I’m gonna call an ambulance.” Minho reached in his pocket but Jinki’s hand darted to Minho’s forearm.

He shook his head. “Y-you can’t.”

”Jinki, you have an insane fever..”

Jinki pleaded with his eyes.

Minho sighed softly. “... Okay.” He stood and looked around. He had never been inside Jinki’s apartment before. He actually only knew where it was because Taemin had been there once and told him. Nevertheless, it was much too small of a place for Minho to get lost in.

He found the kitchen easily. Once there, he grabbed a rag and ran some lukewarm water on it. He squeezed it out and went back to the man on the floor. He pulled Jinki off of the wall sat between him and the wall. Minho’s chest was Jinki’s new wall.

He patted the rag down around Jinki’s face and pulled him close.

They just sat there, Jinki between Minho’s legs. The intensity of his tremors calmed slightly. 

”Jinki...” Minho had one arm steady around Jinki’s waist and the other curled up and still wiping sweat from his neck. Jinki felt so safe held in Minho’s strong arms.

”I-I didn’t think you w-would p-pick up.” Jinki admitted.

”Then, why did you call?”

”I m-missed you.” Jinki uncontrollably blurted out in a childlike whisper.

Minho didn’t respond.

In this instance, Jinki was glad he wasn’t facing Minho. He felt so much shame and guilt and embarrassment that would have been amplified if Minho was looking directly at him.

”M-Minho...” Jinki started bravely. Despite what he was going through, he had a full apology that he ready to deliver as best as he could. 

He closed his eyes and tried to continue, but his words were unable to leave his throat. He felt tears rush to his eyes. “Minho...” he muttered, dropping his head into his hands as he started cry. “Minho...” he kept repeating weakly in between sobs as hot tears ran down his face. Just like that, his body’s shaking kicked up again.

He was feeling so many things he couldn’t voice. Embarrassment that Minho had to see him like that, but relief that even showed up. Regret for all the pain he caused, but joy that Minho still cared. Fear for what Minho would say next.

Minho couldn’t help but get emotional at the sight. Tears welled up in his eyes. He dropped the arm that was previously wiping Jinki and wrapped it around Jinki’s waist so he was fully hugging him from behind. As a few silent tears fell from his eyes, Minho hugged Jinki tightly, rocking the two of them back and forth.

“Jinki... Shhh... It’s okay..” Minho soothed. “I’m here, baby..” He Jinki’s almost bald head. “I’m here with you.”

Though, he was fragile, trembling, crying mess in his ex’s arms right now, and even if only for this moment, Jinki felt... happy.

Everything was flooding back to him. All the bad feelings he had blocked out, all the good feelings that had been forgotten. He was feeling... He was feeling...

He burst out of Minho’s embrace and ran to the bathroom, roughly shouldering the doorframe on the way in. He barely could even react to that before doubling down over the toilet, aggressively vomiting into the bowl what little food he had in his body.

The sudden movement had surprised Minho. His eyes followed Jinki’s path until he was out of sight. After hearing the thud and some wretching sounds, Minho understood the situation. He took the opportunity to wipe his tears and stand up, straightening himself out. He went over to the fridge to find water. 

The only things in the entire refrigerator were 2 yogurt cups, some raisins, and a takeout cup half full of an unknown beverage. Minho sighed and emptied the drink out into the sink. He refilled the cup with tap water and went toward the bathroom where he still heard dry heaving.

Jinki coughed up what he had left and spat before flushing the toilet. He turned and sat back against the bowl, groaning lowly in pain. Miserable. That was another feeling. He heard Minho come in.

”Here, drink this.” Minho sympathetically offered the cup down to Jinki, who graciously accepted. ”Got anything left inside you?”  

Jinki shook his head as he drank from the cup. 

“No.” he mumbled weakly, letting his head hang and closing his eyes.

Minho kneeled down and shook the other. 

“Jinki?”

it’s all gonna work out someday.

Jinki’s eyes shot open, instantly coming into contact with a pasty blue ceiling. 

His bedroom ceiling.

He was still a bit jittery. He sat up, pain shooting all the way up through his body and ringing in his head. He groaned loudly at the pain. It felt so raw, like he had gotten jumped. “ing hell... ’s sake.” He held his head tightly.

He suddenly remembered last night.

’Was Minho really here?’ he asked himself, genuinely not knowing if he had been hallucinating his ex-lover. 

He moved the blanket off of himself, ready to go investigate when his bedroom door opened and a beautiful man entered.

It really was Minho. Last night was real.

”Whoa, whoa.” Minho started, going to help Jinki up properly out of bed. “Don’t get up so quickly, you still have a pretty bad fever.”

Jinki just stared wordlessly at Minho.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jinki closed his mouth. “I... you... you were here all night..?”

Minho smiled gently, continuing to guide Jinki out to the kitchen. “How are you feeling?”

Jinki scoffed. “Like .”

“Not surprising. I think you passed out last night.” he relayed. “Are you hungry?” he asked, seating Jinki at the kitchen table. “I went out and got some stuff.”

Minho walked over the fridge and leaned in, listing off items. “I can make eggs... there’s rice, I got some turkey and bread if you just wanted a sandwich...”

Jinki leaned over to peak in the fridge, not believing his fridge could have been holding all those things. But they were.

”Thank you, Minho.” He cut off Minho’s food ramble. He couldn’t believe Minho would do this for him.

”So, what’ll it be, hyung?” Minho asked, leaning against the counter.

“I’m not really hungry.” He shook his head. Jinki’s body was pretty empty, but he was used to it like that. He was feeling more pain than hunger right now anyway.

Minho crossed his arms. “You’re weak, you’re body’s empty, and you have a fever. You’re eating something.” He stated matter-of-factly.

”Minho, I really don’t-..”

”Yah, look at this guy. Half dead and still stubborn as I don’t know what. Aish.” He tsked, in a sort of annoyed amusement. He turned and got sandwich supplies out if the fridge to begin making a sandwich. He would make a dry sandwich, just bread, meat, and lettuce. No cheese or mayo so Jinki would be less likely to throw it up.

Jinki smiled inwardly at the comment Minho made toward him. It was nice to feel that Minho still cared so much. It made Jinki warm inside. He quietly let Minho prepare the food for him. 

“Here.” Minho plated the sandwich and placed it in front of Jinki, along with a cup of orange juice. “Eat as much as you can.”

Jinki nodded obediently and began to eat.

Minho grabbed his own mug of orange juice and sat across from his elder quietly.

Jinki drank most of the liquid out of his cup and forced a few bites of the sandwich down his throat before clearing it.

”Um... how have you been..?” Jinki asked awkwardly.

“Okay.” Minho nodded slowly and equally as awkwardly. 

It went silent again.

Jinki struggled to come up with some talking points. But it seemed he didn’t have to because Minho suddenly spoke.

”Are you really quitting..?” It appeared as though this question had been on Minho’s mind ever since the idea was presented. “Like, for real? Or is this just another elaborate lie?” Minho pleaded. One could very easily hear the hurt laced in Minho’s question. 

It sounded harsh, but Minho needed to know if he was just wasting his time holding out hope that he would meet his Jinki again.

Jinki was a bit taken aback by the question but he understood why it was warranted. He answered simply.

”Look at me, Ming. I’m a mess. I’m a piece of .” he smiled sadly. “But I don’t want to be like this anymore. I miss you. I miss Taemin. I want things back the way they used to be.”

Minho shifted his weight. ”I... don’t know if that’s possible, Jinki... I mean, a lot of went down.”

”I know. But I just...” Jinki let out a deep sigh. “I just wanted to... apologize for every ed up thing that I did to you.. You didn’t deserve any of it. All the stress and grief I put you through. I... There’s no excuse.” He shook his head in disappointment at himself. “And Taemin, too. God, I know he probably doesn’t ever want to see me again after missing his graduation.”

“... I didn’t even think you remembered about his graduation...”

”Of course I remembered. I wanted to go, I tried to go, I just... how could I show up... like this? I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of all his friends and everyone...”

“No. That’s bull.” Minho stared incredulously. “You’re his big brother, Jinki. You’re his only family. Did you actually think he would prefer having no one there over having you there? Could you not see how it could hurt that you didn’t even pick up his calls or return his text messages??” He stood out of his chair, frustration growing.

Jinki casted his eyes down. “It was better for him that way.”

” you, Jinki. He needed you. He needed you and you weren’t there. He cried the entire night. The whole night. While all of his friends were out drinking and having a good time, Taemin was crying into my lap. And you have the nerve to say that was good for him!?”

Jinki fought back tears as Minho’s words cut through him. He didn’t deserve to cry. Minho was right. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t tell me that, Jinki. Taemin doesn’t want to hear that. I don’t want to hear that.” Minho sighed exasperated. He walked over and kneeled next to Jinki, who was still staring down at the table.

“You know what I want to hear? That this is it. That starting today, you’re going to use every inch of your being to get clean, to stay clean. That you’re not going to shut us out.” Minho took Jinki by the chin, turning his head to look him in the eyes. “That you love us. And you’ll let us help you.”

Jinki let a few fat tears fall. He nodded as Minho stared him in the eyes. “I-I will. I swear. Things will be different this time.”

“Good.” Minho tenderly Jinki’s cheek. Jinki had not felt a touch so delicate in so long. Minho pulled Jinki into a tight embrace, which hurt like hell. But it was so worth it.

Minho pulled away and grabbed the kitchen chair he was previously sitting in. “Come follow me.” He nodded, taking the chair into the bathroom.

Jinki wiped his tearstains, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. He stood up, wincing slightly in pain but he followed Minho to the bathroom slowly.

Minho had set the chair in front of the mirror and patted it, signaling for Jinki to sit, which he did.

”Now... who did you let butcher your hair like this, hm?” Minho asked as he ran his hands through Jinki’s hair. Jinki knew what was coming.

He smiled sheepishly. “I did it. Don’t worry, I could do yours sometime.” Jinki joked. Looking in the mirror and being about 24 hours sober, it was really obvious how bad his self-inflicted haircut was. It amused Jinki since he hadn’t seen it since he did it in the first place, and it was way worse than he remembered. Yes, it was empowering and symbolic but it was very poorly done. It was patchy, incomplete.

“Yeah, no thanks.” Minho chuckled softly as he grabbed the razor from the counter. He turned it on and went through Jinki’s hair, evening it out. It was a peaceful experience for both of them. “If we’re gonna reintroduce you to the world, you’ve gotta be presentable, hyung. That face won’t get you everywhere, you know.” Minho teased gently through the reflection. Jinki smiled in response to the joke.

“You know...” Minho changed his tone. “I’m really proud of you... for getting clean. I know it’s not easy.”

Jinki smiled again, his heart getting that warm feeling. “You make it easier.”

The shave didn’t take long.

”There you go.” Minho ran his fingers through Jinki’s low hair and brushed the excess off of Jinki’s shoulders. “Much better.”

”Thank you, Minho. For... for always being there.” he said to Minho through the mirror’s reflection.

Minho leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the top of Jinki’s head.

”That will never change.”

---

thank you for reading! i’ve never written anything like this haha but it was fun! i hope you liked it! please tell me what you thought in the comments below! <3

x aSHINeeBigBang