"101 times 256."

"Are you serious?”

"Come on!"

You groan, “25856” off the top of your head.

It’s a slow day at the little shopping store, the one like a gas stop station except it doesn’t look as shady at night and there aren’t smokers behind the door and clean aisles and counters. People usually zoom in and out during rush time where food for dinner might have been forgotten or some people are in serious need of snacks to survive through some sort of sports practice. The place is quaint and the owner gives you truffles at random times.

Taemin’s off partying at Kibum’s while you take charge of his shift, which means you have to occasionally restock the shelves or make sure the drinks are where they belong and move a soft drink bottle away from the designated milk area to its proper place with the other soda drinks or bidding people good day as they check out.

Jinki’s decided to keep you company on your lonely shift, softly paddling through the silence with his angelic singing and random equations that usually can easily be solved with a trick, which you’re not sure why he’s asking you said questions because he’s not that fond of math.

"107 times 104."

"Jinki—"

"They need you, _______.”

You look up from the sight of drawing imaginary circles with your fingers on the counter to look up at him with a most confused expression. Nobody ever needs you, except for maybe Jinki, and Taemin in today’s situation, and Jonghyun and Kibum, but that’s it. And the fact that Jinki used “they” just makes everything a lot more perplexing.

"Who?"

"The math team."

A growl rips out from your throat before you turn back slam your head on the counter. You’ve been through this conversation with Jinki so many times, but you know why he wants you to be in it so badly.

"Have some school spirit!" he pouts, jumping out of his seat and nearly splatting on the ground, his waving arms signalling for you to hold him by the shoulders so he can get his feet working properly.

"And why would I have any school spirit? Don’t you know the people in our school?" you stress, implying that people swap saliva and other must-not-be-named substances in broad daylight and wear shirts of all types of inappropriate butchering.

"You love math, though!" he argues, but when you look in his eyes, there’s something else: the same hidden motive.

He thinks you’re actually contemplating the situation, but in reality, you’re just scrolling through the minimal people who still are on the math and science team and one name jumps out at you even from a mile away.

Choi Minho.

"If I didn’t know that hurting you would cause collateral damage to the store, I’d beat you to the pulp right now."

"But—"

"I know you’re trying to make me make a fool of myself in front of Minho!” you hiss, not-so-lightly hitting his bicep to express your fueling anger.

"All I want you to do is go to a practice session and take a practice test with them, please?" Jinki looks at you like a kicked puppy and you find your resolve crumbling.

Jinki may be innocent, but that doesn’t mean he’s not clever.

"There’s a catch, isn’t there?" you question, turning with a fake smile plastered to your face as a new customer walks in.

"Well…if you get the highest score, you have to stay with them. But,” he stops you before you can protest. “if you don’t, then I’ll leave you alone about it and anything about Keroro, deal?”

A mental scale forms in your heads, weighing the odds of getting the highest on the test. You quit the math and science team for two years, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t practiced. It seems to be an endless number of nights with your head stuck in a calculus book, reveling in the way the numbers played with each other.

"Deal," you decide a few minutes later.

Jinki’s smile is too blinding, and luckily you need to check your customer’s stuff out before you die from his bubbling happiness.

-

-

Jinki’s is just two years older than you in college, and you remember the first time you saw him slump against the wall in defeat and collapsing emotions and your heart made you run over to get him to feel better, which meant pouring out all his worries and thoughts which in turn made the two of you best friends. It turned out that he’s friends with Taemin, occasionally giving him free singing lessons in his spare time, and Jonghyun, doing weekly gigs at the cozy pub where most young people go to. Kibum is Jonghyun’s boyfriend, which automatically links him to the chain of friends, and even though his first impression was pretty bad (You lucidly remember looking at you and sneering, “Your clothes aren’t matching colors,” while you retaliated by singing, “Look at all the s I give! None.”)

And the only reasons why Minho is dragged into all of this is because you’ve liked him for the past seven years of your life, to which the other four have known that and him and you refuse to hang out with all five of them at the same time, in fear of one of them dropping hints along the way to make you confess your undying love for the unusually large-eyed Korean child.

Not only is Minho a genius, but the two of you always silently battled the number one spot of the graduating class and of the math and science team, which the other team mates eventually had you go against each other to improve in ways you psychologically don’t understand.

Every time he placed in a competition, he didn’t shoot up in the air and boast to the whole world. He’d just give a small smile and ruffle your hair before walking to receive his award. In those thirty-two seconds, you watch his strong back and never-ending legs decked in loose jeans, his arms lightly swinging back and forth naturally.

It’s the little things that have you tripping over your own feet when you see him on campus. (Funny, the two of you are both in the same college.) His smile, his skin, the way how there’s a slight bounce in his step, or maybe even the days when he’s frowning at something whirring through his brain.

-

-

You can see Minho’s reaction when you step into the third room on the left of the first hallway on the second floor of the math building. It’s wide eyes and surprise, but so does everybody else’s reaction. Your and Minho’s renounced astonishing wins at competitions have spread through campus, and the coach is about to jump out of joy to have the best two students on the team.

And so fifty minutes and a test later, your results come out.

”_________-ssi?”

"Yes, seongsaengnim?" you look up from your book, promptly closing it shut.

"How long has it been since you’ve practiced?" the coach questions you, peering over his glasses.

"Umm," you pause and think to rack your brains. "Three months?"

He lets out a low whistle and walks towards your desk to hand you back your graded scantron.

-

-

The next time you see Jinki is at his weekly gig with Jonghyun, and when he greets you and starts with, “How’d it go?”, you take his head and (gently because Jinki will never let you hear the end of it if you damage his nose.) push it into the nearest wall because you should have never agreed to the compromise (never ever ever.) and crack a small smirk at Jonghyun’s howl of laughter to the side.

It hasn’t been a good week.

-

"It’s been a while, ________-ssi."

You look up from your book as Minho sets his stuff in front of you, turning momentarily to grab his study material out of his backpack. It’s become a known fact to your coach that you’ll be in the math competition study room every morning from eight-thirty to nine-thirty to study and take a break in between.

"Yeah, it has."

Your eyes have just read a few words from where you left off when a Starbucks thermos is in front of your face and the wafting smell of peppermint enters your nose.

"Peppermint hot chocolate with extra whip cream and chocolate syrup drizzled at the top?" he questions, slightly shaking the Thermos in front of your face. But the point is that he actually remembers from that one time the school team stopped at Starbucks to get some light lunch and you uncharacteristically squealed your order to the barista at the front in pure delight.

Your mouth curves into a small smile and your fingers brush his on accident when you take the the red thermos from him. It’s nearly impossible to ignore that warmth and electricity that shoots up your hands and arms and you nearly lose in the battle to force the blood from your cheeks.

"I’m surprised you remember, Minho-ssi," you lilt after taking a sip. "Thank you."

"Well, I’d be surprised if anybody didn’t remember that time you jumped around in Starbucks that day," he chuckles lightly and you join along.

After that, you two are in a comfortable silence.

-

-

"So, how’s your progress?"

You’re working the shift with Taemin today and Jinki sits with the two of you as if he works there, too, when really he just needs someone to help him, aka you, with his organic chemistry homework which you so happen to be taking, too. Jinki switched from an education major to pre-med halfway through college.

"Progress with what?" Taemin intervenes for you so you can ring up the next customer’s order and elbowing you in the stomach to remind you to wish them happy holidays. You’re not exactly the pudgiest person and Taemin constantly misjudges his actions, so he ends up elbowing your ribcage instead and you’re left to shrivel up against the counter in pain once the customer leaves.

"Minho-yah."

"Speak of the devil," Taemin whistles, making you whip your head towards the door.

Tall Asian Boy is certainly dressed well for the winter and he doesn’t even notice you standing at the counter, gaping like an idiot and an open-mouthed fish for a certain time that Jinki has to push your chin up to lock your jaw back in place. “So what’s the connection here?” Taemin whispers in your ear and you look back down to watch your calloused fingers drum on the counter.

”________ likes him.”

"Lee Jinki!" you hiss and make a move to rip up his chemistry homework when Taemin springs back up from his slouched position and wraps an arm around your shoulder to bring you back to your real job. Minho doesn’t bother to cover the surprise from his face when he sees you standing behind the counter that separates you two. But then his gaze moves around and something flashes before his eyes harden and he asks you how you are.

You remove Taemin’s arm from around your shoulders,  hip-butting him to the side so you can properly check Minho’s items out and answer his question in a non-fangirl-mode manner. However, your brain is screaming, “I’m fine how are you what are you doing here you never come here i just realized you weren’t at practice today—”

"You didn’t show up at math practice today," you speak your mind. Minho’s eyes have always been on the intimidating side, and since you’re not exactly close with him, you can’t help but wonder what his softened gaze looks like.

"Oh," he freezes when he’s about to grab the plastic bag and go. "I accidentally overslept."

When you stare at him with an eyebrow raised, he rubs the back of his neck in slight embarrassment and you fail to keep your rigid exterior from crumbling because you have never seen Minho embarrassed before. “You can go.”

"See you later, _________-ah."

"Mhmm."

You grab the broom for the corner of the store and whack them both in the back of the head with a handle to where their cat-calls are cut off to signal their pain. You just go on your cleaning time of the job.

-

-

"I don’t have time to go to a movie," you whine into your phone, shifting it so you can hold it between your shoulder and your ear as you finish cooking your dinner.

"Please? We haven’t been out in so long; Kibum misses you!" Jonghyun pleads back, desperate to get you to accept this movie hangout time. In the past few years, you’ve made it know to them that you won’t have so much time between work and school and now math competitions to hang out with them at parks and play basketball in the supermarkets with the kiddy bouncy balls inside elastic-band jails. Over the roar of the fan from the stove, you hear him continue. ”The movie’s got great reviews! Everybody says it’s the best James Bond movie of all time!”

"First of all, that’s a generalization because I don’t think everybody has called it the best," you repudiate while turning off the stove and moving your fried rice to the side to cool easier. "Second of all," you start as you flip the fan and stove light off. "I never watch a new James Bond movie without having a James Bond marathon before and you know how tight I am on time."

"I’ll even get you Junior Mints!" he yells as a last resort.

"…Junior Mints?" So tempting...

After a few minutes of silence on your side and persuasion on Jonghyun’s, you give in.

"Great! We’ll pick you up at five on Friday! I miss you and I love you!"

You lightly laugh. “I love—”

"As long as he doesn’t love you as much as he loves me!" you hear Kibum yell from the back and Jonghyun’s spilling reassurances as you reciprocate the sibling love and end the phone call.

You slump back against the counters and sigh while shaking your head because you’ve got some crazy- friends.

-

-

"You promised, or else I’m outta here," you threaten Jonghyun, about to back out because he’s not buying you Junior Mints like he said he would. He begrudgingly hands you a five dollar bill and mutters under his breath about cheap friends and you happily cross the theater to buy a box of your favorite candy.

And with your treat in hand, you turn out and nearly drop the box in shock because Choi Minho is currently exchanging manly handshakes and bro-hugs with Kibum, Jonghyun, Jinki, and Taemin.

’s about to go down here.

—-

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey~" your mother sings, poking your blanket covered with an unsullied wooden spoon and you groan and roll over, pillow suffocating you.

"Umma…" you whine.

"They’re going to—"

Ding dong.

"Told you. Honey, this is the tenth day they’ve come."

You flip the duvet away from your head and give her a questioning look that also asks if she’s going insane or not. “You’re counting?" She gives this happy vertical shake of her head and saunters out of your room, completely ignoring the ringing doorbell and as you’re done changing and turn around towards the window, you give a scream and throw the nearest object at it: the pillow.

Taemin has his face away from the glass pane as if the flying object was going to break through and hit him, but dear god, you don’t just press your face like that and not expect the dweller of the household to freak out. That’s just creepy. Your ears catch his muted yells of, “Hyung!” and twenty seconds later, Eyeliner Boy and Insoles Boy have their faces pressed up on the glass pane with Dancing Boy.

Just two seconds after you begrudgingly open the damn window, the three boys tumble through and onto your bed in their coats and all but collapse into your mattress comfort. You shoo them out your bedroom door, closing the contraption and listening to both of your parents cry out in surprise at the three grown men just appearing out of nowhere.

But that quickly passes over because your mother has set a plate of eggs and bacon and toast in front of each of them, Jonghyun and Kibum with orange juice while Taemin gets the last carton of banana milk, a ration that’s deemed necessary in the pantry because Taemin is too lazy and too broke to buy some of his own. You slouch in your seat and pick at your breakfast while taking miniscule bites because you know why they’re here.

They’re the men on a mission that doesn’t need to be a mission but is a mission in their life. And they’re saying that you’re being the difficult one, but they’re the ones that lied for over four years.

Four years.

As soon as thanks and empty plates are passed into the kitchen, Taemin takes both of your hands and you try to brake against the floor, but Jonghyun and Kibum are pushing you from the back and you’re ironically trapped in your own safe haven by the locked window and three strong young adults that have absolutely no reason to be here.

Well.

That’s what you think.

"We are not discussing this,” you hiss, tightly squeezing the pillow to your chest and keeping your legs crossed.

"We are discussing this," Kibum snarls back in his diva like manner. "Jonghyun thought you got kidnapped and then you bail on us even if he got you Junior Mints?"

"You’re the ones that knew Minho was going to show up!" you all but shriek, burying your face into the encased fluff, screaming out your stress and frustration at all this. "And you’re the ones that never told me that you were as close to him as you are with me! This whole time, I thought he wasn’t part of us but apparently he has!"

"Noona?" Taemin asks tentatively and you instantly put out the internal fire. "Why are you scared of seeing him outside of math practice?"

"You did not just—"

"Yes, I did."

"But—"

"Answer truthfully, please?" he pouts and gives you familiar puppy eyes. You narrow your eyes and direct your accusing stare to Jonghyun, who just shrugs and smirks, because who else can Taemin learn from but the best.

"Minho’s overly competitive," you start a few minutes later. The tension in the air is too thick and overbearing for your liking. "And he can be such a dork sometimes. But he’s also caring and independent and helpful, and I know that because back in high school, he would always go around and help the other members so our team would get first."

You snuggle further into the mattress as if it can swallow you up right now and Jonghyun has his arm around your shoulders. “It’s always been like that, and since these practices, I can tell he’s still that way. And it’s stupid and conflicting to me because I don’t want him to know what I’m really like outside of practice and fleeting glances across campus. I’m afraid,” you take a shuddering breath, “that he won’t look at me the same, you know? That everything is ruined.”

"But then I want him to know the real me and that might eradicate all possibilities of ever being close to him. Basically, this is all some messed up game in my mind and I don’t know what to do."

-

-

Taemin has Jinki caught up in your plight behind the counter in the little shop and Jinki makes an effort to make you feel better by shoving his chemistry homework over Taemin so you can check it. You smile at his actions and skim it over before shifting behind Taemin and pointing out to the aspiring doctor that some of his reactions and bonds are incorrect and equations are unbalanced.

It’s March now and the snow has melted away and now you don’t have to go out in four layers as you walk across campus. Being in four layers is like walking in a strait jacket, restrained and formal and awkward, but now a jacket and sweater will suffice as the highs hit the sixties.

Everything is still normal now in math practice, but no more peppermint hot chocolate because the holidays are over. January consisted of him getting you that hot chocolate and you slipping money to pay back in his coat pocket that’s draped over his chair without him looking. Surprisingly, you beat him at the math meet just last Saturday and he gives that adorably childish pout but still be a good sport about the turn of events.

Your mind is still engrossed in your thoughts as you dreamily check out the customer’s items, bidding your good days in a manner like Luna Lovegood. You’re comfortable with this, with your current situation.

But as they say, nothing gold can stay, all good things must come to an end, and you know they will because when have you ever been an exception to life’s rules?

-

-

"I have a question," Minho states when he sits in front of you one Wednesday morning. You nod and furrow your eyebrows before flipping your mechanical pencil over to erase your mistakes and turning it back to the graphite tip.

"How do you ask a girl out?"

The question is so spontaneous, so unexpected that it leaves you completely flabbergasted for a good thirty seconds, your mechanical device coming to a screeching halt, so sudden that the tip breaks and you can’t even move to refuel the tip.

Minho’s asking you for dating advice?

"I…" You look up to see that Minho’s giving you a questioning stare and you quickly look back down and anywhere away from his face. "I guess just confront her directly, tell her what you’ve noticed, be the person you are."

He pauses and contemplates at your terrible advice before nodding and thanking you. You stiffly return the gesture and go back to working, but even the numbers are all intertwined in your brain in a way that doesn’t make sense and soon, you slam your pencil down, pack your books and said pencil, and tell the coach that you had something come up before normally walking out the door and running down the hallway.

Your heavy footsteps are deafening as you run all the way to the chemistry building for you chemistry class. Your thirty minutes early, but your professor knows you well enough that you don’t mean to barge into his early seminar to disturb the class as he just gives you a nod and you ignore all the piercing stares as you climb all the way to the back and bury your head in your textbook.

-

-

You guess your advice works because later that afternoon, Minho has his hand linked with another girl’s who’s definitely more beautiful and more genuine than you are.

-

"I said GO AWAY!" you scream into your pillow and ignore Taemin’s hands that are on your waist and pushing you into the wall.

"But you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for forever~ You haven’t even gone home to visit your parents!" He whines characteristically for a nineteen-year old.

"Seriously—"

"WHY ARE YOU IN HERE, TOO, KIBUM?!" You all but roar and fist your hands around a pillow and raise it threateningly. You’re seething and possibly overreacting, but they’re the ones being annoying and that’s not. Your. Fault.

"You’ve got three seconds, understand?"

The dumby duo is still in their original positions. This has happened before. They know what happens if they push your buttons and don’t do what you ask of them after three.

"One…"

Kibum fidgets and holds his ground, though you can see the his adam’s apple bob nervously.

"Two…"

Taemin continues to sit there obliviously as if his memories can’t plague him at all whatsoever.

"Three!"

You let out a battle cry and smack the two of them with a pillow non-stop until they whimper and stumble out of your room two minutes later.

Now it’s time to go back to sleep.

-

Or you wish you could.

The very memory of Minho’s hand wrapped around a girl’s that wasn’t yours flashes non-stop in your brain, the scene replaying in slow motion as you can see his hand tighten around hers in a very dramatic replay of a two-second time frame.

You had stumbled into Jonghyun and Kibum’s apartment later that day with three tubs of ice cream, one for each person, and fished out spoons from their utensils drawer before handing each one to them and sitting on the couch with towels around said tubs.

Naturally, you blubbered your way through the explanation and can tell that the couple was exchanging glances over your sniveling figure, but they were supportive and talked about stupid things they did before they got together and eventually the TV to some crap drama that you three fell asleep ten minutes in.

Your math coach has been texting you for every time that you don’t show up and saying that he hopes you get over your “obvious” illness and you just text back to say you’ll train even though you’re half brain dead at the moment and he texts back to tell you not to stress yourself.

The words “not stressed” have disappeared since you hit middle school.

Taemin and Jinki have been taking your shifts at the store with ease but they both miss you dearly, but since Jinki and Jonghyun both have morning classes today, Taemin and Kibum took it in themselves to show up at your apartment with no difficulty to find your spare and let themselves in.

You have been going to class; the point is, you’re just avoiding Minho because you’re afraid you’ll break down in front of him and you never break down in front of anybody but your best friends and family.

Never.

Taemin has you sitting up sideways in bed and against his androgynous figure while singing to you and rocking you back and forth to a comfortable beat. You can hear Kibum bustling around in the kitchen, the occasional clang of pots and pans and hissing when a liquid drops onto the electric stove. 

You hate electric stoves. They’re so hard to clean and you spend ten minutes of using SOS and scrubbing it until the surface squeaks.

But basically, two of your best friends are making you feel better little by little.

You let out a small sigh and Taemin’s arm tightens around your shoulders.

You can do this.

-

-

You are a such a liar.

Instead of putting yourself in your usual spot across from Minho during practice, you drag your sleep-deprived body to the other side of the room and drop your backpack on the ground with a loud thud. Everybody looks up for two seconds to see what the slight commotion is and you push past the pain in your brain and grab your study material and pencil bag.

The math is making itself more complicated than it’s ever meant to you and you wash two painkillers down your throat with water before trying to take in more information on the study packet that your coach decided to drop on you just ten minutes ago.

It’s already been overwhelming for you to even know that Choi Minho is on the same campus with you, and now that you have a headache and said boy is sitting just twenty feet away from you, how are you supposed to function again?

You let out a light groan and fold your arms on your desk before your head falls into the bony cushion that’s more comfortable than the wooden desk. You can’t breathe, you can’t think, you can’t do this.

Once again, just like your last visit, you slam your hand down on the desk and pack up before bidding your coach goodbye and waving back to your teammates. The door closes and instead of sprinting, you’re supporting yourself against the, most likely, germ infested wall of the school in a sudden stage of nausea. Your hand feels around until it grasps the handle of the stair and you cautiously take a step down, succeeding, then proceeding to take another until you’ve triumphantly walked down fifteen stairs without stumbling and falling to your temporary death.

Somehow, you make it past the next flight, and the next, and the next, and the next, until your eyes squint at the brightness seeping through the glass of the front doors. You trip on air and catch yourself on the handles of the door, letting your body weight push the obstacle forward and your feet trudge around outside.

Now the sun seems too bright, too scintillating like an extremely tacky diamond is reflecting all the sun’s rays right now. There’s faint voice that sounds like Jinki’s from the back and you’re scared now because it is him and you don’t think you can rely on Jinki to take your exhausted body to the nearest infirmary.

-

-

"Oh my gosh oh my gosh, please wake up, just please please wake up—”

"Will you please shut up and let me sleep?" You grumble and groan at the throbbing pain in your head like somebody is punching your skull. When your eyes focus, Jinki’s staring back at you with terrified dark brown orbs and you remember that you passed out on him.

"Oh hey."

"I was so worried!" He cries out and just about sobs while clutching your hand. "What have you been doing to yourself?"

The nurse does her normal checkup and tells you that everything’s normal, you just need to eat and rest and when you feel better, you can leave. The other three burst through the door and Taemin is dragging in a bewildered Minho behind him.

But why?

Jonghyun and Kibum are fretting over you like you’re a five-year old child and not twenty-one, but your eyes are locked with Minho’s frantic ones, but soon you both shut each other out and you wince.

"I’ve had enough of this!” Taemin screams uncharacteristically, his chest heaving. Everybody is stupefied at his sudden outburst and you’re just hoping that this isn’t going where you think it’s going.

"Look at her, Minho!" Taemin roars and jabs his arm in your bed-ridden figure. "This is what you’ve done to her; this, is all your damn fault!”

"B-but—" he splutters, completely oblivious to the turmoil going through all four of your group because of you.

“Stop it, Taemin!” You cry.

"Noona—"

"Just stop!" You screech, not dissimilar to a banshee. "He doesn’t need to know!"

"Know what?"

And now you’re officially and royally screwed.

-

“Minho doesn’t need to know anything,” you breathe heavily into the thick tension. It’s so palpable and viscous that you’d have to fight your way through it with twenty one guns and ten knives.

“Noona—“ Taemin whines exasperatedly like a child not getting something he or she wants.

“Please,” you whimper. “Minho, tell the coach I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Y-y-yeah, I will,” Minho splutters, evidently surprised that you talked to him. “Oh!” He exclaims, his eyes lighting up excitedly. “Your advice worked and I’m really glad she accepted me! I’m taking her to the movies this Saturday and—“

“Get out, Minho,” Taemin growls and shoves him out the door before following and whipping the door closed behind him.

“Jonghyun, go make sure he doesn’t say anything stupid please.”

“On it.”

Another opening and closing and Jonghyun is out.

“How are you feeling?” Jinki inquires, sitting one your left side as Kibum places himself on your right side. Kibum takes a warm towel from the nightstand and quietly washes your arms and head, gently placing your hair back behind your ears and smoothing out your bangs.

“I’m okay.” You lean your head back against the pillow and let your eyes flutter closed. ‘At least I think I am.’

“No, how are you really feeling? I don’t mean your physical body condition.”

Your eyes languidly open and fix their gaze on white ceiling. You’ve never liked the pattern much; too many randomly placed dots, too stereotypical of a patient room. For some reason, everything seems surreal. You can believe it’s happening, but you haven’t completely accepted it yet. You feel like you’re doing nothing but floating the kind of floating that has you moving up and down a little bit. The sensation of falling is there like the dreams you have when you jump off a staircase, the upward force causing your dress and stomach to lift up—

“I feel like I haven’t fully accepted the reality yet,” you reply a couple of minutes later. Your voice is small like a mouse and your hand grasps the bed sheets. Jinki notices and releases your grip, only to take your hand in his as Kibum does the same. “Life isn’t a fanfiction where the girl can wait for a long time and get her Prince Charming in the end. Maybe I was hoping for that even though my mind was completely aware that it wouldn’t happen because it’s Minho. He’s not one to shy back. If he wants something, he’ll do what he can to get it, and that wasn’t me but her. And that’s how things are going to be.”

“It’ll take a little bit of time,” Kibum supplies and you nod. “In the meantime, do try to keep your health in check. Jonghyun and I nearly cried when we saw you here.”

You chuckle and roll your eyes. “Such overdramatic brothers.”

-

“Taemin, let him go,” Jonghyun urges and tugs on Taemin’s clenched fist. Minho is still standing there a bit cluelessly with his shirt bunched up in Taemin’s other fist.

“You may be one of my best friends, but nobody, and I mean nobody, hurts my noona. Do you understand, Minho?” Taemin snarls threateningly.

“Taemin, she wouldn’t want you to do this. You’ll end up telling him things she doesn’t want people to know,” Jonghyun quietly advises the last sentence in the boy’s ear and feels the fist in his hand losing its grip.

“Please go before I do something rash,” Taemin releases Minho and turns around.

“In all these years, I haven’t seen you guys so cryptic before,” Minho adds before exiting the infirmary.

“Noona doesn’t deserve to suffer like that.”

“No one does,” Jonghyun confirms.

-

“Is there anything else you want to tell us?” Kibum asks as Taemin and Jonghyun make their way back through the door. Taemin, being the smallest, wordlessly trudges towards you and worms himself under the covers with you. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head into your shoulder before murmuring an apology for losing his cool. You nod and comb through his hair as an acceptance of his rash decisions.

“To be honest, my mom got laid off on her job a week and a half ago,” you reveal. Everybody blanches and you continue. “I’ve been trying to find another job to take up besides working at the mini-mart and some paying internships, but they’re all pretty competitive.”

“With your skills, you could definitely get in. But how about starting a job at the hospital?” Jinki advises and you nod.

“I’m going to meet my advisor tomorrow afternoon to ask her what I should do and if she knows any good places.”

“Anything else?” Kibum brushes your hair and you stay quiet.

“Is it time to give up?” you tentatively question. Anybody could hear the evident defeat in your words.

“Maybe,” Jonghyun answers just as quietly. The other three nod solemnly at the reply and your suspicions are confirmed.

It is time.