#bye bye bye minhyuk i'm not writing you again for a long time

[sunshinewhale]

a snowdrop flower

it blooms in winter.

pairings: minhyuk x reader   pov: unnamed reader, reader centric, second person

genre: not angst???   words: ~2800

*optional* follow up to [ an oxeye daisy ].

notes: can be read stand-alone. probably.

You see Minhyuk again in the first month of winter, when part of autumn still greets you at your doorstep and the first snowfall is still a wishful dream.

It was a coincidence.

It’s not like Minhyuk was faint graphite and you intended to erase him from your life entirely. (If anything, he was permanent marker, the kind that stubbornly remains even when you’ve soaped your skin raw.) It’s not like Minhyuk wanted you removed completely from his existence, either. Neither of you were made to play the part of the scorned ex with a misplaced vendetta. Breaking your relationship was such a violent crime it left a temporary trauma on your innocent history, and before it could mend itself back into the familiarity of friendship, Minhyuk needed the solace of distance, and you needed time.

And time is kind. To injured hearts, time is the best medicine, the gentlest healer that believes in your soul and teaches you that darker nights can eventually be tearless.

You’re doing better. You could even say you’re doing well.

Your emotions are freer, in a cage with the door slightly ajar. Maybe you’re still somewhat restrained by choice and the scars of old habits, but there’s freedom at your fingertips and you’re no longer shackled by the fear of the unknown. You know your heart can survive anything, now. You smile a little more than you used to, you laugh a little more, but you cry a lot more, too.

You happened to pass by Kihyun’s quaint cafe on one of your off days, so you figured you might as well drop in, say hello and grab a drink. Minhyuk was sitting at a table nestled by the window, watching the mundane life of the city, so he spots you a close street away.

When you enter, he moves from his seat and comes up to you. He’s smiling brightly as he presses his warm palms against the winter-kissed redness of your cheeks. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

You look up at him slowly, but you’re not surprised at his presence. He’s smiling at you, and from the crinkles of his eyes to the curve of his lips, you know it’s genuine. Something in your chest settles as your heart recovers another fragment of forgotten peace.

Minhyuk can smile. Minhyuk’s okay.

Minhyuk’s doing well, too.

“It has,” you smile back and it comes with natural ease, “it’s been quite a while.”

You join him at his table. There’s a bit of strain in the atmosphere, but it’s comfortable, and you two play on the safe side. Minhyuk chatters away about everything but nothing, the weather, the upcoming bowling tournament, the shenanigans of his friends. You watch the way sunlight catches in his hair and you bask in his healthy glow. He’s just as radiant as the day you first met him, and that’s really all you could’ve asked for.

“And I told him! A million times! But Kihyun just won’t stop nagging—”

“You didn’t order and it’s been forever since you came in so I just made your regular,” Changkyun interrupts, completely ignoring Minhyuk as he leans over to hand you the latte. “It’s on the house today, I got Kihyun’s approval.”

“I’m sure Kihyun’s disapproval wouldn’t have stopped you,” you quip in thanks, and the younger sticks his tongue out.

“Yeah, because he’s such a little shit,” Minhyuk mutters, pouting, “doesn’t even acknowledge his hyung’s existence.” He’s purposely indiscreet so you and Changkyun hear him loud and clear.

You see Changkyun’s eyebrows raise. His eyes flickers quickly between you and Minhyuk, and the corner of his mouth curls up devilishly. You gave a subtle shake of your head. No, Changkyun. Too soon.

“You betcha. Someone told me good girls dig lil’ shits these days, right baby?” the younger male winks at you as he bites his lower lip suggestively. It’s horridly obnoxious.

“Changkyun,” you deadpan, your nose scrunching up in newfound disgust, “stop that.”

“I’ll see you around, baby,” he drawls, and blows you a dramatic kiss. He cooly turns around and saunters to the counter without looking back.

Minhyuk blinks a few times in dumbfounded stupor before he whips around, eyes levelling you with playful accusation. His fingers clutch his chest in mock hurt. “Since when have you been making moves on Changkyun? Was I that easy to get over?”

You laugh, feeling a deja vu of fondness fill your heart. “It took me so long to learn how to love you, how could getting over you possibly be easy, quick or painless?”

Minhyuk lights up and his laughter joins you. You’re not sure, but your imagination thinks it hears a soft edge of relief in his happiness.

.

.

minhyuk: i’m really happy i got to see you, today. :)

you: me too.

.

.

You bump into Minhyuk again during the second month of winter, when the sky is a sunless grey and frost is a constant bite at your skin, but there is still no sign of snowfall.

It might not snow this year, you think, what a shame.

It’s raining heavily. Water is pouring from above, as if some sentient being has a sinister motive to drown the city and crown it the next Atlantis. You can’t even distinguish individual raindrops. By chance, both you and Minhyuk ended up seeking temporary refuge at Kihyun’s cafe to see if the rain would let up with some patience.  

Minhyuk checks his watch and bites his lip. He’s been becoming increasingly jittery for the past ten minutes, and you can physically see anxiety running in his veins.

“If I don’t want to be late for my schedule I need to leave now, but I don’t even have an umbrella, then by the time I get there I’ll look like an unlovable drenched mop,” he’s rambling out of restlessness, and you can hear agitation crawling into his voice, “Kihyun will yell at me for tracking in water and Hyungwon is going to laugh at my misery and then I’ll get sick because I’ll be cold and wet and then I’ll be out of commission for the next week.”

He takes a deep breath, exhales, and bites his lip again. There’s enough pressure this time that you’re afraid he might break flesh and end up with a bleeding lip.

“Take mine,” you say simply.

He looks at you with unfounded offense as if you had just cursed at him instead. “Then you won’t have one! What kind of person do you think I am?! I won’t have you out there in that terrible, terrible weather like a defenseless baby!”

You can’t help it. A traitorous chuckle escapes you, and you cover your mouth quickly to stifle it. You feel Minhyuk’s gaze harden on you, he’s very much serious and very much unamused.

“We’ll walk together to the bus stop, and then I’ll take my bus home. You know I live by the station,” you compromise.

He lets out a sulky huff, but he agrees. His eyes narrow at the cheekiness twinkling in your eyes as you lead him out the cafe door. Like a good friend, you hold your tongue and swallow the urge to tease him that he doesn’t have a better option, anyway.

You let out an involuntary hiss as the winter air hits you. The hair on your skin raises in frigid shock and goosebumps dance in tiny prickles along your whole body. Behind you, Minhyuk yelps dramatically in a similar fashion.

“It would be warmer if it would snow,” he says, and he breathes out to watch his breath condense into white puffs.

If the cold was biting, the rain attacked like liquid ice, even on clothed skin. Minhyuk huddles closer to you to keep the fading warmth as he holds the umbrella (because he’s the taller one, he argued, and left no room for disagreement). You hadn’t realized exactly when, but the sneaky man had maneuvered you to his right to keep you on the inside of the sidewalk, safe from unwanted showers gifted by passing cars.

It’s a modest distance to the bus stop, but Minhyuk’s already in violent shivers when you arrive.

His coat is too thin in the first place, and his left side rather soaked. He’s freezing scarlet from the tip of his nose to the curve of his ears and you can hear him sniffling pitifully like a newborn puppy. You sigh softly.

You remove your wool scarf and begin wrapping it around his neck and shoulders. As soon as he realizes what you’re doing, he pouts at you and squirms in protest. “Nooo—”

“You know you’re a summer child,” you are firm, and you hold a finger up to his lips to shush him, “you get sick so easily in colder weather, and you have so much to do, it’s harder on your health. Unlike you, I actually have regular days off. ”

You take your earmuffs off and you have to tiptoe to slide them over his ears, careful to smooth down his hair to preserve his styling.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice that you were putting in extra effort to keep me dry instead of looking after yourself? Only the left side of you is ridiculously wet.”

In a rare slice of silence, Minhyuk avoids your stern stare for a bit and watches you adjust the scarf on his shoulders instead of meeting your eyes. He has the decency to be a little sheepish, so you let it slide. Once you’re done, he pulls your scarf up to cover his rudolph nose. You think he seems a touch shy. You’re not sure if he’s blushing or if it’s the icy flush of the weather.

You hear a loud sniff.

“Don’t use my scarf to wipe your snot,” you glare at him, rummaging through your bag and handing him a small pack of tissues, “that’s gross.”

He accepts the tissues from you with a grand flourish and puts it in his coat pocket. When he takes his hand out, he holds a finger heart up to your face. His eyes crinkle into mischievous little crescents and you know exactly which grin he’s grinning under the layer of wool.

“How did you know I was thinking it?”

.

.

you: did you get there, warm, safe and dry?

minhyuk: yes!!

minhyuk: ...at least, dry enough, lol.

minhyuk: thank you so much! let’s meet up soon so i can return your stuff!! <3

.

.

You meet up with Minhyuk in the dead of winter, when all the wonderstruck beauty of the season has already passed, and you are still wishfully hoping for snowfall.

On a whim, you two decide to talk a stroll through the park, to reminisce the past. The naive, innocent past, when Minhyuk had just meant to be friends, when you didn’t know if your heart could handle loving, when neither of you knew what cruel tragedy would break both of you when that simple relationship turned into romance.

You count yourself lucky, because you can find traces of the friendship that you and Minhyuk shared before, glimmering like hidden gold under a limitless sea of wasted trash.

There’s really not much to see, even in the most quaint depths of the park where mother nature slumbers. You hear the brittle crunches of dried life under your steps. The grass has lost its green, the land is barren and littered with mottled leaves. The trees fare no better, stripped naked and quivering for cover. You haven’t seen the sun for days, and you wish it would stop hiding behind an endless blanket of winter fog.

But you have Minhyuk’s company by your side, and just like the past, that’s already enough to make everything seem a little brighter.

“...Sunny. Like the sun. A lot of people call me sunshine.”

“Oh, I’m one of them. I used to compare you to the sun. I still do, sometimes,” you hum, and your vision drifts to the silver-clouded horizon in the distance, “but these days, I think of you more as a snowflake.”

“Snowflake?” Minhyuk asks. There’s a whine to his voice and he’s giving you the stink eye, an over dramatic frown is etching wrinkles in his whole face, “like the good-for-nothing, special snowflakes?”

“No,” you laugh, and wave his displeasure away, “not like that.”

He snorts. “Well, good. Because I’ll have you know I’m a package of delight.”

You laugh again, and your happiness flows into winter’s embrace, lighthearted and airy. Minhyuk’s satisfied with his humor and grins at your laughter, and you think you can find beauty in the bleakness of this season even if snow decides not to grace its presence this year. You fix your gaze on where you think the sun might be shining.

“You’re a snowflake that fell into the palm of my hand and melted away in a brief moment. It was short-lived, but it was such a precious experience. I know I still have countless winters, and I will see countless snowfalls, but I won’t ever be able to catch the same snowflake again.”

You turn to meet his eyes, your heart beating on your sleeve.

Your pulse is steady in sureness, calm in your conviction.

“You will always be you, Minhyuk. You’re not my last love. I know I will love again, and maybe I’ll love many, many times and maybe I’ll love even more, but I won’t ever love anyone like I loved you.”

Minhyuk expression shifts to something else, and he looks at you weirdly. You can’t quite place that something in the light of his eyes, and you wonder if you’ve said something out of line. Your lips part in haste to change the topic when you feel a fleeting coldness settle on your nose like a fluttering hello.

Snow.

It’s the first snowfall.

.

.

minhyuk: i need to see you. i’m outside.

minhyuk: please come.

.

.

The first snow is still falling, and winter finally mirrors an enchanted fairytale.

There’s a thin layer of white silk on the ground, but what surprises you is that there’s a light dusting on Minhyuk.

You rush to greet him, worry harsh on your tongue. “What are you doing, Minhyuk? We could’ve met somewhere indoors. Are you trying to get sick—”

He gently grasps your hand, and you involuntarily flinch. His skin is frighteningly frigid, cold but burning red. His nose is running for days and he’s sniffling without restraint. You think he’s been outside for at least an hour for who knows what, and that was your lesser estimate. His fingers are awkwardly stiff, but he slowly laces his fingers in between yours with clumsy tremors.

“I was thinking,” his voice is raspy and wet, and he repeats, “I was thinking.”

“Can’t you think indoors, maybe? Somewhere warmer?”

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes with burdens you might never know, and you purse your lips to give him silence.

“Listen to me,” he pleas, “just listen.”

His words are firmly grounded when he speaks again, and you think he’s never been this serious with you.

“You’re not everything. I can be perfectly happy as friends. I think I can live without you, too.”

He narrows the close distance between you, and his grip tightens slightly to convey his carefully contemplated sincerity.

“But I don’t want to.”

Like the way he always used to, he cradles you with tenderness and touches his forehead against yours. He blinks his uneven blink that makes your heart swell in adoration and his eyes are still glassy with earnesty and pure with clarity.

You can still see yourself in their reflection.

“Let’s try again. Let’s try even harder. This time, let’s be reckless.” Minhyuk breathes, and he’s not promising you anything but the present. “Let’s hurt. Let’s hurt together, and heal together, then smile together.”

He looks a little lost and out of his element. He also looks like he’s found the weakness of vulnerability, but he doesn’t waver even as he searches you for an answer.

He reminds you of you, a few seasons ago.

You lean in and catch his lips. He feels like soft ice, and it’s nowhere near a perfect kiss. It’s a bit wet and Minhyuk is almost unbearably cold, he’s still sniffling and you’re sure he has some snot on his lips. There are snowflakes falling on your face and into your eyes and the chill stings a little against your heated skin but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay, you kiss him again and your kiss tells him, okay, let’s try one more time.

It’s in the dead of winter when your love begins to bloom again.

You and Minhyuk don’t need to wait for spring.