addiction 》minsung

10

"Changbin was right." A distressed Jisung groaned, head buried in his pillow. "I am an idiot."

Ever since his talk with Minho the other night, nothing was the same. He remembered it all clearly: they had been talking about their futures, and then Minho had dropped only a slight bombshell, and obviously Jisung had no idea how to react. In his mind, he was telling himself how it was a joke. Either that or that good brotherly-love from the dancer and he was just misinterpreting it. 

He had zero idea what to say back. Should he joke around? Just laugh? Confess his confusing feelings on the spot and not look back? 

 Luckily for him, he didn't have to choose between any of those horrible options, because the roof door busted open, and a stern security guard who did not care at all about their nice little hangout escorted them back downstairs. The walk down couldn't have been anymore awkward, even minus the gruff security man walking directly behind them. Neither spoke the whole staircase trip, both pairs of eyes staying directly on the floor in front of them. When they reached their rooms, Jisung could have sworn he heard a mumbled 'goodnight' from Minho, but it was so quiet he couldn't be sure.

That was 3 days ago.

They'd barely talked since.

That was a considerable feat considering that they lived in the same building, had similar schedules, and somehow kept showing up at the same place at the same time.

There were the occasional 'yes' and 'no's, the 'thank you's when they passed the food at dinner, but nothing deeper.

It wasn't all Jisung's fault though.

Ok, maybe it was.

If he was honest, it was entirely his fault. Minho, bless his heart, tried often in the rare moments they were alone to engage in conversation. Those moments were rare because Jisung made sure to always have another person in the room with them, Minho only caught him off guard a few times. Each time he was met with words from the older, he ran. 

He'd make excuses, give short answers, and each time he could see the hurt on Minho's face. 

Of course it hurt him too, he hated to do it, but he didn't know what else to do. For one, he refused to believe that Minho actually cared about him like that. He knew that if he got his hopes up, they'd eventually be crushed. What then? He'd be stuck with an even more awkward relationship with his bandmate. That wasn't all, deep inside, he just didn't want to admit that his feelings for the older were actual feelings. If he did, he could jeopardize not only his career, but Minho's as well. No matter how strongly he felt towards the man, he couldn't do that to him.

So now it was just weird. Minho was caring, he wasn't going to push anything. He never forced Jisung to talk, he just watched him from afar, waiting for the rapper to come around.

He tried ignoring the awkwardness, going back to his normal schedules, but it wasn't working. The fanfiction was just causing him to overthink, turning what used to be a favorite hobby into a torture device.

He was a songwriter for heaven's sakes, why couldn't he just speak?

"Jisung?" His roommate's muffled voice spoke from somewhere behind the rapper. "What are you doing?"