A/N: Hey lovelies. <3 I wrote this back in 2011/2012 (wtf omg so long ago) and I'm cringing at how bad some of it is (like holy for real) but rather than telling myself I'm gonna edit it and post later, and then never actually getting around to it, I'm just gonna throw it out here.  This fic was like my baby back in the day, so I couldn't bring myself to fully abandon it.  I hope you enjoy! <3  Part two was already half written and I'm currently finishing it up.  Expect it soon!

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Choi?”

Minho sat up in the bed and rubbed his forehead.  “Don’t call me that, it’s weird…”

The nurse repeated herself.  “How are you feeling, Minho?”

“I have a headache.”  That was nothing new though.  Thankfully it had gone away during the night, allowing him to get some sleep, but now that he was awake it had returned full force.  The nurse gave him a fresh dose of some medicine; he really didn’t care what it was enough to find out.  This was a hospital.  He trusted that they knew what they were doing.

“Try opening your eyes.”

Minho complied.  He opened them slowly, squinting in the blurry light.  “Ugh…”  Everything looked all fuzzy.  It made his eyes itch.  He lifted his hands to rub at his eyes, but the nurse stopped him.

“Please don’t rub them.  It’s not going to help.”

He groaned.  Of course it wouldn’t.  How stupid of him to think it would be that easy.

The nurse then held a sheet of paper in front of him, about three feet away.  It was an eye chart.  She pointed to a line.  “Please read this for me.”

Minho tried, but it was all too fuzzy.  He squinted first one eye, then the other, then both.  He tried tilting his head.  He even leaned forward slightly.  It was no use; nothing helped.  He looked up at the nurse’s blurry features and shook his head.  “I can’t.”

“Can you read the one above it?”

The letters on the line above were a bit larger, and much easier for him to read.  He struggled a bit on some of the less distinct letters, but he managed to read the whole line to the nurse, only missing one letter.  The nurse apparently had found out all she needed to know, because she then left the room.  Minho leaned back on his pillow with a sigh and stared blankly up at the ceiling.

The boy expected to be left alone for several hours like he usually was, but this time it was only a few minutes before the nurse returned.  She held something in her hand and Minho couldn’t quite determine what it was.  Upon request, Minho closed his eyes.  The nurse slid the object over his head.  He reached up to feel it and discovered cloth covering his eyes, and an elastic strap going around the back of his head to hold it in place.  It was a blindfold.

“The doctor doesn’t want you using your eyes right now.  He believes it might be making the situation worse, and it certainly isn’t helping your headaches any.  Please keep this blindfold on at all times.  You need to rest your eyes.  If you need help getting around anywhere, such as the bathroom, call for us and we’ll guide you.”  Minho nodded to show that he understood.  He heard footsteps moving away as the nurse left his room.

It was quite a struggle for Minho to get used to keeping the blindfold on.  At first, when he wasn’t used to its presence, he felt like it didn’t belong, and he had the constant urge to remove it.  Every time he wanted to take it off, in his mind he would imagine one of the nurses scolding him.  This fake scolding was effective enough, because he didn’t want to face the real version.  He kept the blindfold on.

In the beginning, the nurses helped him walk around when he became restless, guiding him through the hallways, but over time he learned the layout of that wing of the hospital quite thoroughly.  He knew where everything was, and where all the doors and corners were, without even needing to see them.  As for traffic, he could easily tell when someone was approaching and avoid them without collision.  This was due to the fact that without his sight, he had been forced to rely on his other senses.  As he used them more, they became more finely tuned.  He became especially attentive through his senses of hearing and touch.  Eventually Minho reached the point where he could move around the hospital whenever he needed to, blindfolded and independent.

Every day during his stay in the hospital was boring and relatively uneventful.  He couldn’t watch television, he couldn’t read books, and he couldn’t do anything else for which he would normally have used his eyes.  The way he spent his time went through phases.  At first, he spent most of his time either sleeping or listening to music on his MP3 player.  He soon caught up from all the lack of sleep he had accumulated through staying up too late the way every teenager does.  Sleeping became tiring, so his sleeping phase ended and was replaced by an active phase, in which he learned his way around the hospital hallways.  When he was out of his room he needed to use his ears, so at that point his music phase ended as well.  Besides, he had grown tired of listening to all the same songs over and over.

After he learned his way around the hospital, he slipped into a lonely phase.  During this phase he spent the majority of his time on his cell phone, calling his friends, and bugging them until they finally told him to shut up and started ignoring his calls.  It stung a bit, and left an aching hole in his heart, but he supposed he couldn’t really blame them.  They were busy people, after all.  They didn’t have a lot of time to spare for talking on the phone.

Minho kept his illness a secret from his friends.  Only he and his family knew about it.  His friends had better and more important things to be doing than worrying about him.  As much as he longed for them to come visit him in the hospital, he just couldn’t do it; he couldn’t tell them.  His parents visited him when they got a chance, which with their busy schedules wasn’t too frequently, and he had no other visitors, so once his friends started ignoring his calls, he forced himself to end his lonely phase.

Of course, he was still lonely, but he refused to mope about it any longer.  He abandoned his cell phone on the windowsill in his room, leaving it turned off and forgotten for the time being.  He listened to music for a short while after that, but never really went through another whole music phase.  He soon became bored of music again.  He wandered through the hallways and found himself in the hospital’s small garden outside.  It was peaceful there, and the fresh air was nice.  He liked it.

After that, Minho made a habit of visiting the garden at least once every day.  On one such occasion when he was on his way back to his room after spending hours out in the garden’s refreshing atmosphere, Minho’s mind was wandering, and he wasn’t paying full attention to the sounds around him.  As he rounded a familiar corner, he felt a sudden harsh impact and was knocked back off his feet, and soon found himself sitting on the floor, rubbing his now sore backside.

“OhmygodI’msorry!” he heard a rushed apology of which he could barely make out the words.  “Areyouokay?  I’msorryIdidn’tmeanto-”

“Whoa, slow down!” he interrupted the stranger.  “I can hardly understand you.”

The stranger took a deep breath and then spoke again, the speech much slower and clearer.  “I’m sooo sorry, sir; I wasn’t looking where I was going!  I shouldn’t have been running…I’m sorry!  Are you okay?”

Minho could now tell that the voice belonged to a boy.  He smiled.  “I’m fine.  I wasn’t paying attention either, so it’s not your fault.”

“It is though, sir…I was going too fast.”

Minho frowned.  “Don’t call me sir, it’s weird…I’m only nineteen.”

“Oh.”  The boy paused.  He was probably thinking.  “Hyung then?”

So he’s younger than me.  “Sure.”  He started to get up, and as he did so, he felt hands grab his arms as the boy rushed forward to assist him.  He didn’t need or want any help, but to be polite, he let the boy help him up.

“I’m so sorry hyung!”

Minho had to chuckle to himself.  This boy sounded so cute.  “It’s fine, really.  I’m kind of glad you did it actually.  This is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in weeks.”

The boy was silent for a minute.  Minho guessed he was probably frowning, judging by the next words that left his mouth.  “Have you been here that long?”  His voice was softer and much calmer now.

Minho tried to detect his emotions and guess what he was thinking.  Maybe he was a bit amazed.  He probably pitied him.  He nodded.  “Yeah, I guess so.”  Minho knew the boy’s unvoiced question – what was wrong with him?  Even though the stranger hadn’t spoken, the patient knew he was thinking it.

“Let me help you back to your room,” the boy offered.

“I’m fine, I know where it is.  I don’t want to bother you.”

“Ani…I want to help you,” he insisted.

Minho chuckled inwardly.  From the first impression, he kind of liked this kid.  He agreed to let the boy help him, partly because he didn’t think he could tell him no, but mostly because he liked having the company of someone other than the nurses and doctors.  When they reached his room and Minho sat on his bed, he suddenly grabbed the boy’s sleeve.  “Um…”  He was reluctant to let the boy leave.  His mind rushed to think of some excuse to keep him there.

“Taemin.”

“What?”  Minho frowned slightly in confusion.

“My name, it’s Taemin.”

“Oh.”  A smile crept to Minho’s lips, and he had to hold back a sigh of relief that Taemin had stalled without him having to come up with something.  “I’m Minho.”

“Well then, Minho-hyung…it was nice to meet you.  I have a curfew and it’s getting late…so I kind of have to go now.”  Minho’s heart sank.  He thought he had just made a friend, but he was leaving him now.  “Can I…come visit you?”  Minho almost forgot to breathe.  That question had caught him by surprise, and he was so happy that he didn’t realize he hadn’t answered yet until Taemin repeated the question.  “Hyung?  Is that okay?”

Minho nodded.  “Yes, of course!  I’d like that.”  He grinned.

“Alright, see you later then, Minho-hyung!”  He heard footsteps moving quickly down the hallway, and he chuckled to himself.  He’s running again…what if he runs into someone again?  Pabo.  He was grinning like an idiot, and the nurses probably thought he had gone insane, but he didn’t care.  Minho had made a friend, and that friend was coming back to visit him!  He was too happy to care about anything else.

Taemin.  That’s a cute name.

Minho waited for Taemin, his excitement to speak with the younger boy again growing by the hour.  He expected, or rather hoped, for Taemin to come the very next day, but perhaps that was a bit unrealistic.  The boy did not come that day.  He didn’t come the next day either, nor the day after that, nor even the day after that one.  It was a whole week and a half later before he heard that friendly voice again.

There was a small knock and the sound of his door being slowly eased open, then the voice spoke softly.  “Hyung?”   It was almost whispered, and sounded rather uncertain, as if its owner was hesitating to enter, unsure if he was invited, or perhaps checking if the patient he was visiting was even awake at the time.

Minho smiled and his heart leapt.  He immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Taemin.  “Come in.”  He wanted to laugh or dance or sing or something, but he contained his joy in a simple smile.  He was nearly bursting at the seams with his happiness that Taemin had finally come to visit him.

Taemin entered the room, closing the door behind himself.  His footsteps came closer to Minho’s bed.  The older boy sat up more on the bed, propping himself on his pillows so he wasn’t half lying down anymore.  He patted the space next to him on the bed.

“Sit with me.”

There was a silence during which Minho assumed the younger boy was hesitating.  Then Taemin quietly climbed onto the bed.  He stayed near the foot of it, but Minho scooted over to one side of the head and patted the empty space beside him again.  Taemin moved forward and sat next to Minho, who could only think of how cute the younger’s bashful actions were.

“Um…” Taemin began.  He shifted his weight slightly.  Probably turning towards me, Minho thought.  “Sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“It’s been more than a week.”  Minho chuckled.  “I thought you’d come back within a couple days.”

“Yeah…I had school and stuff, and some things came up.  Sorry.  I didn’t have your phone number so I couldn’t call you or anything.”

Minho immediately felt guilty for being impatient.  Of course he had school.  Of course he had other commitments.  Just because Minho had already graduated and was stuck in a hospital with nothing to do didn’t mean someone younger than him didn’t still have school and other things he might be doing.  It was only natural that he would have other more important things to do than to visit a hospitalized boy whom he had barely even met.  The younger boy sounded so apologetic, it made his heart clench.

“It’s fine.”  Minho felt a bit stupid for getting so excited.  He hadn’t even thought about the other’s side of it at all.  He pointed over to the windowsill where his phone was still lying, forgotten until that moment.  “Could you bring me that?”

Minho felt the weight beside him leave the bed, heard footsteps rushing to the window, then heard them return and felt Taemin sit by his side again.  He held out his hand and Taemin placed the phone in it.  Minho flipped the phone open and turned it on.  Then he handed it back to the younger boy.

“Here, you can add your contact info if you want to.”  He indicated his blindfold.  “Obviously I can’t text you in this state, but I can at least talk.”

He heard beeping noises as Taemin added himself to Minho’s contact list.  “Speed dial five is empty so I’m putting myself on that.  Is that okay?  I thought speed dial might make it easier to call me, since…you can’t, um…yeah.”  Taemin seemed hesitant to say out loud what he observed Minho’s problem was.  He was being overly polite and sensitive.  Minho thought that was cute.

“Sure, go ahead.”

There was silence for a few moments as Taemin concentrated on his task.  Then a cute electronic voice squeaked, “A text!  A text!”  Minho chuckled.

“I sent your number to my phone,” Taemin explained.  He returned Minho’s phone, and the older boy closed it and set it on the table next to his bed.

“You can call me any time; I most likely won’t be busy.  Just don’t try to text me.”

“Okay…you can call me in evenings or on weekends, but I won’t answer during school.”

“Of course.  How old are you, Taemin?”

“Seventeen.  Almost eighteen.  Why?”

Minho shrugged slightly.  “Just curious.  What’s your curfew?”

“Ten, but visiting hours here end at nine.”

Oh yeah…  Visitors were so infrequent that Minho had forgotten about the visiting hours.  “What time is it now?”

“Five o’clock.”

Minho smiled inwardly.  So we have four hours to talk.  “Have you eaten yet?”

“No…I’ve heard hospital food is disgusting though.  I’ll just get some snacks from a vending machine downstairs or something.”

“It’s not too bad, once you get used to it.”  Minho wrinkled his nose.  “Well, some of the options are a bit nasty…”  He sighed.  “I miss my umma’s cooking.”

“I could bring you something next time I visit,” Taemin offered.

Minho perked up and turned toward Taemin, even though he couldn’t see him and it didn’t do any good.  As they say, old habits die hard.  “Would you really?”

“Sure!”  The younger boy giggled a little.  “What do you want?”

“Hmm…”  Minho thought for a long minute, but he couldn’t come up with anything he specifically wanted.  Just the fact alone that Taemin would bring him something was enough to make him the happiest he’d been in ages.  He grinned.  “Surprise me.”

The two boys talked about a lot of things.  They got to know more about each other, what they liked, what they disliked, what their hobbies were, and even what their families were like.  They were enjoying each other’s company immensely, and got so absorbed in talking to each other that they completely lost track of time.  Before they knew it, their four hours had flown past, and a nurse was knocking on Minho’s door, politely interrupting their conversation to inform Minho that visiting hours were over and his guest was required to leave.

They said goodbye and Taemin left, promising to return again the next day, or at least call Minho if he couldn’t visit.  Minho lay back on his pillows and sighed.  “That was the best day I’ve had in a long time,” he said to no one.  He dozed off into a light sleep with a smile on his face, looking forward to his new friend’s next visit.

The next day was Saturday, and Taemin was up bright and early, excited about his plan for the day.  Last night when he was lying in bed, he had decided that even though his mother would most likely be glad to make some lunchboxes, that seemed a bit less sincere.  That was when he came up with the idea of making the food himself.  He had made his own lunches for school before, so he wasn’t completely inexperienced.

Right after breakfast, Taemin washed the dishes for his mother, in exchange for the favor of cooking extra rice for breakfast.  Then he got out the extra rice and the other ingredients he needed and got started.  He got out two large lunchboxes, each one big enough to contain a meal for two people to share.  Before the rice finished cooling, he used some to make a couple rolls of kimbap.  After slicing the kimbap rolls, he placed them in one of the lunchboxes along with the rest of the rice.

Taemin began humming a happy tune as he worked.  His mind was on Minho the whole time, hoping he would like Taemin’s cooking, hoping he even liked this kind of food, and wondering what kind of food he was being fed at the hospital every day.  He couldn’t help but wonder if hospital food was quite as awful as everyone made it out to be.

Taemin chopped half a small onion and half a small carrot.  He got three raw eggs out of the fridge and cracked them open into a bowl, then whisked them lightly, adding the chopped onion and carrot.  He poured the mixture into a pan on the stove, and while he waited for the omelet to cook, he got out sliced bread and sandwich ingredients.  Once the omelet was sufficiently cooked, he sprinkled it lightly with pepper, placed a sheet of seaweed on top and rolled the omelet, then set it aside to cool.  Then Taemin made a couple of sandwiches, sliced them each in half, and placed them in the second lunchbox.

His humming turned into a whistle and the tune changed.  Taemin’s mind wandered to Minho.  He wondered what the older boy was doing at that moment, or if he was even awake yet.  Finally, he sliced the cooled omelet and added it to the first box, along with the rice and kimbap.  He sighed and admired his work with a smile.  He was visiting two hospital patients today, and the box with the sandwiches was the lunch he would be sharing with his girlfriend.  The other box was going to be supper, which he would enjoy with Minho.

Taemin packed up the lunchboxes and looked at the clock on the kitchen wall.  He smiled.  It hadn’t taken too long, and he had plenty of time for visiting both patients.  His mother came into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of the omelet.

“Taemin honey, where are you going?”

The boy grinned.  “I’m visiting two people in the hospital today.  I’ll be gone all day, so don’t wait for me for dinner, okay?”

The woman smiled and nodded.  “Alright sweetie…be careful, okay?”

“Of course!”  Taemin gave her a hug.  “Bye umma~ see you tonight!”  He grabbed the lunchboxes, slipped on his shoes, and hastily left the house, all but slamming the door in his excitement.

When Taemin reached his girlfriend’s hospital room, he slowly slid the door open, while calling softly, “Jagiya?”

“Taemin?” a voice responded.  “Come in!”

He nearly skipped into the room and over to her side.  He set down the lunchboxes he was carrying, then leaned over and planted a kiss on her forehead.  “I’ve missed you, jagiya.”

The girl smiled up at him, her eyes shining with the love she felt toward the boy.  “I’ve missed you too.”  She nodded toward the lunchboxes.  “What’s in there?”

Taemin grabbed one of the visitors’ chairs from along the wall and dragged it so that he could sit next to her bed.  As he sat down he replied, “That’s for later.  I made some sandwiches for lunch, and the other one is for my new friend for supper.”  His eyes sparkled as he spoke of Minho.  “Jagiya, I met a really nice hyung here!”

The girl giggled.  The way Taemin could get excited over such simple things was part of his charm that she had fallen for.  “Really?  Tell me about him!”  Taemin was only too happy to oblige.

Normally, Taemin would be completely focused on his girlfriend when he was with her, but through that whole visit, he couldn’t seem to get his mind off of Minho.  He wondered why, but he didn’t dwell on the question too much for fear of over thinking and possibly reaching en erroneous and rather disagreeable conclusion.  Instead he simply accepted the fact that he was excitedly looking forward to spending more time with his new friend.

Taemin left his girlfriend’s room shortly after lunch.  He knocked on Minho’s door before entering.  “Hi hyung!”

Minho sat up straighter when he heard Taemin’s voice.  A smile crept onto his lips.  “Taemin.  Did you bring food?”

“Food?  Umm…”  Taemin pretended to have forgotten, and Minho’s shoulders slumped and his smile shrank a bit.  The younger boy stifled a giggle.  “Of course I did!  Silly hyung, did you think I’d forget that?”  The patient’s smile returned, even brighter than before.  “But you have to wait until dinner to eat it.”

“Why?” Minho inquired, curiosity evident in his tone.

“Because I want to eat it with you.  I just ate lunch and I don’t have room for more food yet.  Besides, if we eat it now, I’ll have to either buy something here for supper or leave a couple hours early.”

Minho seemed to take this as an acceptable answer.  He beckoned for Taemin to sit with him again in the same way he had the day before.  The younger boy didn’t hesitate this time.  He set the food on the windowsill and hopped onto the bed next to his friend.

Taemin visited Minho whenever he got the chance, which was almost every day.  On weekdays he would go to the hospital after school, unless he had to be somewhere else with his family.  Often he would work on his homework while he was there, sometimes asking the older boy for help when he was struggling with a particularly difficult assignment.  On weekends he would spend every possible minute with Minho.  Unless there was something going on with his family in which he was required to participate, he would arrive at the hospital right at the start of visiting hours, and he would remain there until the nurses kicked him out that night.

Some of the nurses were quite friendly and grew rather fond of Taemin.  Sometimes, when the boy accidentally fell asleep on the bed, snuggled up by his friend’s side, the nurses overlooked it and let him stay overnight.  They couldn’t bring themselves to wake a boy sleeping so peacefully, nor to take away the company their patient had finally found.  Before Taemin came along, Minho’s loneliness had been painfully evident to the nurses.  They were glad to see him being visited so often.

Minho wasn’t sure when it happened, but by the time he realized it he had already fallen too far to return.  He was in love with Taemin.  He had never loved anyone so deeply, so sincerely, and so irrevocably.  He couldn’t bear the thought of ever not having the boy by his side.

Following Minho’s realization that he loved Taemin, the time between his visits became increasingly lonelier.  His family almost never visited him, and of course his other friends still didn’t know he was in the hospital.  When Taemin couldn’t be there, sometimes the two boys would talk over the phone.  When they couldn’t even do that, Minho had taken to listening to music again.  He would put his MP3 player on shuffle and simply relax, letting the music carry his imagination far away, to other times and other people’s stories.

To his surprise, his taste in music had changed.  Before, the songs he enjoyed the most were often harsher, with a strong beat and a good rap part.  Instead he found himself preferring calmer and softer songs, leaning toward love songs toward which he had previously been indifferent.  In fact, although his favorite band remained the same, his favorite song had switched from one of their rap songs to a sweet love song from the same mini-album.  The song had grown close to his heart.  He felt that it described his feelings toward Taemin perfectly.  He marked it in his mind as ‘our song’.

Minho wondered if the change in his musical taste had come because he was in love, or if it was due simply to befriending someone as gentle and genuinely kind as Taemin.  His heart was truly beautiful.  Minho told him this once.  They were lying next to each other on the bed as usual, silently enjoying each other’s company, when Minho said, “Taemin, you’re beautiful.”

Taemin didn’t respond for a minute, but when he did, his voice was laced with confusion.  “But hyung…you can’t see me.”

Minho smiled.  “I can see your heart, and that’s enough to know that you’re beautiful.”

“Hyung…”  Taemin was speechless.  Luckily for him, he didn’t have to say anything, because Minho had more to say.

“Taemin, what do you look like?” he asked.  He had been wondering ever since they first met.  It killed him that he couldn’t see the other boy.  He had to keep the blindfold on, and he had been tempted at times to remove it, but realized that even if he did, there was no guarantee he would be able to see him.  That possibility scared him.  He didn’t want to know just how far gone his vision was, so he kept the blindfold on.

“Well,” Taemin began, sounding unsure of himself.  “I don’t know…I look normal I guess.”

Minho shook his head.  “With how beautiful you are on the inside, I’m sure it must shine through.  I’m willing to bet you’re just as beautiful outside.”  He smiled.  “For starters, you look Korean, right?”

“Yes.”

“What color are your eyes?”

“Brown of course.”

“And your hair?”

“It’s short and blond…but I’m thinking about dying it again soon.  I’m thinking maybe red.”  He guessed the next question.  “I’m a little shorter than you.”

“I know your height, I can feel that.  And you have wings, right?”

Taemin laughed.  “Wings?!  Why would I have wings?”

Minho’s heart was warmed by the sound of Taemin’s gentle laughter.  His smile widened.  “I’m convinced you’re an angel.”

There was a long pause following that statement.  When Taemin finally responded, his voice was softer.  When it hit Minho’s ears it reminded him of marshmallows.  “Maybe I am.  Maybe I’m your guardian angel.”

Minho didn’t hesitate to reply.  “If it means you’ll always be by my side, then I hope you are.”

After that day, Minho told Taemin the same thing at the end of every visit.  “You’re beautiful, Taemin.”  He said it every time without exception, and Taemin noticed that.  The phrase never failed to send a million butterflies fluttering around inside his chest.  Minho had strange effects on the younger boy.  No one had ever affected him this way, not even his own girlfriend of three months.  When he smiled, it often took Taemin’s breath away.  How could he be so happy when he was living in a hospital?  Taemin wondered that all the time.  One day, his curiosity finally got the better of him and he asked Minho about it.

Minho must have been expecting the question, because he didn’t hesitate in his reply.  “I’m happy because you’re here with me.”

“Me?”  Taemin’s face scrunched up in confusion.  “But your parents only visit you once a week, right?  And what about your friends?”

“They don’t know I’m here,” Minho confessed.  “I haven’t told them.”

Taemin felt a lump rising in his throat.  How was Minho so strong?  He knew without a doubt that if he had been in such a situation, he would have died from loneliness long before whatever illness that had kept him in the hospital for so long.  “Aren’t you lonely?”

“Why should I be?” he answered matter-of-factly.  “You’re here.”

“But your friends…don’t you miss them?”

“I don’t need them.  You’re enough company for me, Taemin.  You’re special to me.  I wouldn’t trade you for any combination of my other friends.”

Taemin didn’t know what to say after being told something so touching.  He felt tears forming in his eyes and he quickly blinked them away.  Since when had he started hanging on to every word Minho said?  Since when did the older boy start to mean so much to him that he would rather die than lose his friendship?  He felt vulnerable.  His heart reacted in ways which he didn’t want it to.  He didn’t want to be so hypersensitive to someone’s feelings and opinions.  He didn’t want to be so focused on one person that thoughts of him even interfered with his studies.  He didn’t want his heart to act this way, but he couldn’t control it.

And yet, he was the happiest he had ever been in his entire life.  Despite that he couldn’t control his heart, despite that his grades were suffering, and despite that he and his girlfriend were slowly growing more distant, he didn’t mind all that much.  All of his complaints were half-hearted because he had nothing he could honestly complain about.  His whole heart was filled with joy.  He was soaring, and he was afraid of how easily he might be able to fall and plummet to the depths below, but that was okay.  He would enjoy this happiness while it lasted.  He wouldn’t question it; he would simply live in the moment and go with the flow.  And when his heart told him to hold on to Minho, he obeyed.