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overobsessivewhumper · 5 years

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Mutt’s hospital visit

Ahhhh... Finally i got to writing! This took too long! Not one of my best works, but hey... This is extra bad, because my knowledge of hospitals and medicine are very limited

Content warning: hospital, broken ribs, mention of other injuries, modern slavery, past abuse

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @im-not-rare-im-rarr @comfortforthepain @18-toe-beans @haro-whumps @deluxewhump @kungpao-giffy @draganies @spiffythespook @whump-chains @projectstripe

Gavin should have noticed sooner. It was so obvious. Any other person would have noticed. Everything was pointing to it. The coughing, Caleb’s shallow and careful breathing, the way he occasionally clutched his side in pain when he thought Gavin wasn’t paying attention to him. But Gavin didn’t notice, did he? Not until he finally came around to asking Caleb to show him what’s wrong and saw the very unnatural shift of rib bones along his right side.

And Gavin’s ignorance is precisely the reason he’s currently driving as fast as he dares, heart rate going a whole lot faster then it probably should in a healthy human, whilst Caleb sits on the passenger seat, looking equal parts absolutely terrified and confused. Gavin should have noticed sooner. Caleb could have died of internal bleeding! Hell, he could be dying right now!

“Just… Just hang in there Caleb. It’s fine. You’re… You’re going to be fine! This is all fine! You are not dying!” Gavin wondered who he was actually trying to reassure; Caleb, or himself. Gavin glances over at Caleb. Caleb does not look reassured.

“D… Dying?! I’m… I’m dying?” Gavin curses himself for being this shit at handling stress situations.

“No. No. It’s fine Caleb. I… You’re going to be fine! It’s just… just broken ribs. It’s fine.” Turning his attention back to the road, Gavin tries to get his breathing in check, attempting a few slow and deep breaths in a row. Gavin can feel Caleb’s eyes on him, getting the feeling that the man next to him is burning to ask him something, but doesn’t dare to say anything.

“You want to say something, right? Go on. You always have my permission to speak.” Gavin’s words come out a bit choked between his shitty attempts at calm breathing. He can see Caleb fidgeting with his hands in the corner of his eye.

“I… Mas… I… I mean Gavin I…” He closes his eyes, swallowing hard. He clenches his fists before speaking louder, faster and clearer than Gavin heard him ever before. “If you’re bringing me to a… a Pet pound because of a… a few br… broken ribs, I… I beg you not to! I can st… still work! I can be… be useful a… and good, eve… even if I am damaged goods!” For a moment, Gavin can’t say anything. But he jumps back into action when he can see Caleb curling in on himself again, looking horrified at how he just spoke back to his Master. Gavin can sense him going into apologising and begging for forgiveness mode.

“No! I’m not taking you to a Pet pound!” Gavin stops. He’s being too loud. He can’t get loud with Caleb. He tries again, keeping his voice at a moderate level. “I would never Caleb. “ Caleb is staring at his wrists. “Caleb… Please look at me.” Caleb obeys, as he always does. “I can’t look at you right now. Don’t want to get us caught up in a car accident as well… But please. Trust me when I say, I’m not going to give you away. Not now, not ever.” Gavin feels Caleb itching to ask something again.

“It’s okay if you want to ask something Caleb. I won’t see it as rude.” Caleb resumes his fidgeting again.

“I… Ga… Gavin, whe… where are we go… going then?” Good question. Where are they going to? Caleb needs medical care. And fast. Gavin is not risking a man’s death over said man’s assurance that he can work on with broken ribs. Pet medical facilities have the biggest array of different treatments, but Gavin doesn’t trust them, nor does he like the rumours he’s heard about the places. And it could very well scare Caleb, seeing one of those places, and he might assume Gavin might still want to give him away.

No. no way in hell is Gavin taking Caleb to one of those places.

Normal hospitals offer limited treatment for Pets, but only in emergency situations. Well if this wouldn’t be counted as a emergency situation, Gavin didn’t know what would. Gavin shuddered. His dislike of hospitals is big, but he wouldn’t risk a humans life because of one of his silly dislikes.

Caught deep in thought, Gavin almost misses a turn, and ends up having to do it a little too fast and sharp. Caleb gets caught unready for the sudden change of direction, and hits the car door with his shoulder. He grunts in pain, wrapping his arm around his right side as the movement must have jostled his ribs. Guilt pools in Gavin’s stomach, hot and sharp.

“Shit, Caleb, I am so sorry! Crap… Sorry! I’ll try to drive more careful!” Gavin is aware that he’s being too loud, but he can’t help it. Caleb just has a confused and pained expression plastered on his face. Well, at least he probably didn’t mistake me raising my voice as signs of anger, Gavin thinks.

Gavin decides against saying anything else, knowing that he keeps saying thing that just make Caleb worry more. Shutting up is his best option here. And that he does for the rest of the drive. There are no more issues with Gavin’s terrible driving leading to more pain for Caleb, but the way he takes every breath with extreme caution worries Gavin a lot.

Getting Caleb out of the car needs a little bit of patience and gentle coaxing, fear evident on the smaller man’s still bruised face. It’s obvious Caleb wants to obey, but the fear is keeping him from doing that, causing him even more distress. Eventually, Gavin manages to get him out, promising him that he won’t leave his side, and telling him that he can hold on to him if that makes him feel better.

Cautiously, pale, frail fingers wrap around Gavin’s left arm gently, as Caleb’s worried eyes skim across the parking lot. Gavin smiles reassuringly, lightly placing his bigger hand over the smaller, scarred one clutching to his upper arm.

“You’re doing great Caleb.” Caleb doesn’t look like he’s sure he should be allowed to believe that.

Keeping his pace slow as to accommodate for Caleb’s limp, Gavin starts walking towards the entrance of the hospital. Gavin’s concern spikes at how small and breakable Caleb looks clinging to his arm. It’s only been approximately two days since Gavin first saw Caleb kneeling on the floor before him in Mr. Hughes house, but Gavin already knows that if it came to it, he’d be ready to take bullets for this guy. Caleb deserves more love and care and positive attention then Gavin could ever give him and it burns him up inside that people like his boss would find pleasure and amusement in abusing people like him.

Caleb has a poorly concealed expression of pain spread to every corner of his face, worrying Gavin further.

As they step into the hospital, Caleb moves a little closer to Gavin, so close that he’s pressed right against his side. Gavin takes his hand in his.

“Hey… It’s okay. I won’t leave your side.”

Caleb mumbles a quiet “Thank you Master.” in response.

Once at the reception desk, Gavin contemplates just not mentioning that Caleb is a Pet, but eventually decides against it. The chip would get noticed, and he’d only prologue Caleb’s wait for treatment and get them both into trouble.

So he has to explain to the man at the desk, probably in his early forties with black hair and reading glasses, that he’s actually Caleb’s owner. The man’s smile fades to a frown.

“Oh. You’re one of those people. Well you just need to go right down that hall, and at the far left, you’ll find a door leading to the Pet ward. Good luck finding it.” He does nothing to conceal the disgust in his voice or expression. Gavin nods and smiles, before going in the direction the receptionist pointed him. Guilt blooms in Gavin’s chest once again.

It doesn’t take them too long to get there, even with Caleb’s limp. He’s obviously pushing himself hard to walk fast.

Once in the ward, Gavin is greeted with another reception desk, this time maned by a young blond girl, currently typing something on the computer in front of her. She looks up at Gavin, and then over at Caleb. She frowns at Caleb, probably because of the terrified way he clings to Gavin’s side, and the bruises littering his face and neck.

“Yes?” Her voice has a hint of sadness to it.

“I well… Um…” He points at Caleb. “He’s got like… seriously bad looking broken ribs all along his right side and I don’t know how long he’s had them and he could be dying of internal bleeding and he’s in a lot of pain, like… a lot! And I don’t know if some of the bones pierced some of his internal organs or something! It looks really bad!” Gavin couldn’t stop the spew of words from coming from his mouth, barely remembering that he still has to breath.

“Woah there Mister, calm down! Can you show me how bad it looks?” Quietly apologising to Caleb, he tugs his t-shirt up and shows her his right side. “Yeah… That doesn’t look good… I’ll make sure to get a doctor to see you as soon as possible.” She grabs a piece of bright yellow paper and a pen from the side and hands both to Gavin. “In the meantime, fill this out. Waiting room’s over there.”

She points to a door to the side. Gavin nods and steps into the waiting room, Caleb still clutching to his arm.

There aren’t many other people in the waiting room. There’s an elder lady with a tired expression on her face sitting on a chair with a female Pet sitting at her feet. She looks like a rather high class pet, dressed rather fancily. She has her knees drawn up to her chest an her eyes closed. There is a second woman siting in a chair further away. She looks younger and seriously pissed. She has a male Pet kneeling at her feet, a less high class pet then the other woman. The Pet has his arm cradled to his chest, it looks bent in an odd angle. There is a third Pet kneeling in the corner. It seems his Owner has left him here, probably to impatient or busy to wait with his Pet. The Pet has burns running up and down his arms. They don’t look all too bad, but cover a big enough area to need to have someone have a look at them.

Gavin sits down, making sure that Caleb sits in the chair right next to him. The elder lady seems put off by this. Gavin ignores her displease expression and starts filling out the formalities on the paper. It doesn’t ask much. Just basics, like the owners name, address, phone number and year of birth. It asks even less of the Pet. Merely their number and why they where brought here. Gavin has forgotten Caleb’s number by now. He leans closer to Caleb.

“What’s your number again?” He keeps his voice gentle and quiet.

“43002612” Caleb sounds a bit scared. Gavin can feel him trembling beside him. Gavin puts the paper to the side and turns to Caleb.

“Hey… You’re doing so great. And I really mean it. I know how stressful and scary hospitals can be.” He gently takes his Pet’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the back of it. “Is the pain bad? Please be honest.”

Caleb stares at Gavin, hesitating, before very cautiously nodding. Gavin frowns.

“But you’re doing really good.” Gavin smiles. For a moment, Caleb’s eyes seem to brighten up slightly.

It seems to Gavin that it takes ages until they get called out of the waiting room, the elderly lady complaining about them getting called out first in the background as they leave the waiting room.

In the doctor’s office Caleb gets asked to sit up on the examination table and take of his t-shirt. He does so with a bit of aid from Gavin’s part.

The doctor is a smallish man with greying brown hair that looks like he’s done with everything. He moves his chair closer to where Caleb is sitting, and scans his chip.

“Oh, only been his owner for a few days then, huh?” He eyes the bruises covering Caleb. Gavin nods, but says nothing. “Okay then. Lets get on with this then. I don’t have much time. Lay down please.”

Caleb looks at his Master questioningly, and when Gavin nods, he does what is asked of him.

The doctor examines the area by pressing at Caleb’s ribs gently and listening to his lungs.

“Well he has four broken ribs on his right side, that’s for sure, but his lungs are fine. But you’re not getting out of running him through an x-ray.”

“What about internal bleeding?”

“Well. I can’t really determine that from outside. We will run an MRI too to determine that.” Gavin nods.

The doctor runs through some technical things with Gavin whilst Caleb sits next to him silently. Gavin soon notices that there is no way he will be able to join Calen during the tests he’ll have to go through, and begins to worry about him. He promised he’d stay at Caleb’s side. When Caleb catches on to this he clings to Gavin even tighter.

“I know I promised I wouldn’t leave your side. I’m sorry, but I can’t come with you for this. I’m so sorry. But I’ll be right back at your side as soon as I can. And that’s a promise I plan to keep.” Caleb looks scared and unconvinced, but, obedient as ever, lets himself get led away.

This is when Gavin really starts to worry. It’s taking way too long. What if Caleb feels uncomfortable or scared? What if he passed out from internal blood loss? Gavin can feel himself hyperventilating again as he paces the halls of the Pet ward. He tries to get his breathing under control by breathing slowly into his cupped hands and holding his breath for ten seconds. It works moderately, but he still needs to lean against the wall for a moment.

It’s just all so much! A few days ago, he had nothing to do with Pet’s at all, nor did he think he ever would, and now, he owns one, and even might be responsible for his death. Yes, he wasn’t the one to inflict the wounds, but he should have noticed. He should have noticed. He should have took Caleb to the hospital straight away. Gavin rubs the palm of his hands across his face. There are so many things he should or could have done. So many. He just hopes he didn’t do the ones he did too late.

When he spots Caleb limping in his direction alongside a nurse, he feels like he can breath just a little bit freer. He starts bombarding her with questions and she tells him to calm down and that she’ll explain in a moment, sending Gavin’s heart racing with worry again.

Once Caleb is back on the examination table, she explains to Gavin that he hasn’t gotten any internal damage aside from the bruising around his broken ribs, and that the fractures are rather basic, so it will heal on its own.

“They won’t need any further medical treatment, but the rest of him sure does.” She glares at Gavin.

Gavin silently holds Caleb’s hand through out the treatment of the rest of his injuries, caressing the back of his hand with his thumb again. At one point the nurse leans in closer and asks something of Caleb. He shakes his head and says something quietly. The nurse looks up at Gavin.

“He says you didn’t do all this to him.” She gestures at the burn on Caleb’s ribs she’s currently tending to. Gavin shakes his head.

“No. I’ve only…” Gavin sighs. “Only been his… his owner for a short while.” She nods, becoming slightly less hostile towards Gavin.

Once she’s done, Caleb is bandaged up much neater then the low quality of bandaging Gavin had achieved. The nurse briefly explains some basics about how to care for the different wounds and how all he could do for the broken ribs is let Caleb rest and ice the area.

“What about some stronger pain killers? He’s in a lot of pain… I’ve been giving him Advil, but it isn’t nearly strong enough.”

She almost laughs out loud.

“Oh dear, no. I’m afraid that’s frightfully illegal.” Gavin blinks in confusion.

“What?”

“Prescribing Pet’s strong pain meds is illegal, dear. Have you been living under a rock?” What the hell?! Gavin runs his hands through his hair.

“Yeah. Apparently I have.”

From then on, Gavin tries to get out of there as fast as possible, wanting to get Caleb into an environment with less people, and himself out of the sterile halls of the hospital which seem much narrow for his liking.

When they are finally back in the car, he feels a little bit more relaxed. But he doesn’t trust himself to drive just yet.

“You did really good in there Caleb! You stayed so calm…” Caleb’s eyes brighten ever so slightly again.

“Tha… Thank you Gavin!” Gavin smiles a bit.

“Are you okay? Please answer truthfully.” Caleb stares at Gavin, trembling slightly. He seems to have no idea how to react.

“I guess what I’m asking is, do you need a hug?” Caleb hesitates and Gavin wonders if Caleb even likes such close physical proximity.

“I… I don’t think I… I deserve a… a reward Ma… Master Gavin…” Oh, so that’s what this is about.

“Well. I think you handled yourself really well in there. I think you deserve it.” Caleb looks unsure.

“I… Really?”

“Yes.” Gavin smiles reassuringly.

“Then… I… I’d be happy to a… accept a hug, Master Ga… Gavin”

Gavin manoeuvres himself closer to the passenger seat awkwardly, and gently wraps his arms around Caleb, careful as not to hurt him further. The position is rather uncomfortable for Gavin, the car’s gear stick sticking painfully into his thy, but by the way Caleb leans into Gavin, he really needed the hug, and then Gavin is more than happy to suffer through some minor discomfort for that.

To be honest, Caleb wasn’t the only one that really needed a hug.

#long post #sorry...#my writing #my OC's #hospital #broken bones #broken ribs #mention of other injuries #past abuse #modern slavery #pet whumpee #pet whump #whump #this did not come out that good...#sorry #my stuff #gavin and mutt

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skizmin · 6 years

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the lantern room | l. minho ☼

⇝ Australia!Au: jeongin, seungmin, felix, jisung, hyunjin, changbin, minho, chan, woojin ⇝ Pairing: Lee Minho / Gender neutral reader

⇝ Genre: fluff, a little angsty tbh but its not bad at all. strangers to friends to lovers, lighthouse keeper and local penguin enthusiast minho!!

⇝ Words: 15, 416 (i know its adschjk)

⇝ Summary: Minho Lee was the local mystery boy. You didn’t know him, but you knew he looked after the lighthouse and fed the local penguins. That was until the storm.

⇝ A/N: vanta the cat based off of nathan the cat!! is my bias showing??? this is so much longer than my other ones im so sorry it’s just minhos so easy to write for n this idea i just kept unknowingly building on meaning it all takes ages to resolve ahbdbsjhgfd. very very special thanks to @briee-elle who beta read it for me and edited it and just saved my life basically!! ily bub

⇝ Music: here is the playlist i listened to whilst writing!!

No one really knows the boy that mans the lighthouse on your bay. They say his mother is sick, his father is someone out of the picture, they say he’s an only child with only an odd cat for company.

You went to school with him, he wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He was nice, relatively smart and good at swimming from what others told you. What people found strange was the way he’d disappear at break times, and the way he’d reject any invitations to parties or simple hang-outs, also how he never seemed to attend any school excursions or camps. You hadn’t really spoken to him, Minho Lee that is. The opportunity simply never came up. But that didn’t mean you weren’t completely obsessed with him and his mysterious aura.

You felt immature, if you were being honest, at how enamoured you were with this boy who had never even glanced in your direction. No one knew, of course, how you would think of him often and wonder what he was up to, you were too embarrassed to confess to your friends about how the dark haired boy had swallowed your mind. Maybe you had been reading too many cheesy romance novels? You were always the one to reject any romantic aspect of the stereotypical mystery boy in the books, but it seemed different with Minho Lee.

You wondered where he went every lunch time, what he did when he was alone on those Friday nights you were attending a party, what he did on the nights where the ocean’s harsh wind thrashed against the windows of every house in the town, lulling you to sleep. Minho’s home was right next to the lighthouse (and, technically, neighbouring yours), probably getting hit with the relentless wind and sea sprays the hardest. As a child you used to think Minho lived in the lighthouse due to watching constant replays of Round The Twist on your Saturday mornings, and you wondered if he would be amused by that.

People rarely saw him outside of school. Sometimes people gossiping about the odd amounts of frozen squid he bought at the convenience store on a Sunday afternoon. You saw him quite frequently though, not that he knew, of course.

Your and Minho’s houses shared the same tiny cove on the cliff line your town edged on, alongside a few elderly couples that were enjoying their retirement. Often as the sun set you’d find yourself wandering down the poorly built stairs to the small beach past the steep cliff your house stood near. On these days where you watched the oranges and deep pinks roll over the horizon, you’d also watch Minho on the beach with copious amounts of squid in a large tin bucket, chucking them to the penguins that made their way from the ocean to their burrows hidden by the sand mountains that rose higher the closer you got to the cliff.

You thought it was ludicrous. Minho, the boy who no one knew barely anything about, spent his evenings building unlikely relationships with the penguins of your town by feeding them squid. What was more confusing was his black cat who followed him all along the beach, even wandering off to play in the water. A cat playing in the ocean? Minho had a more interesting life than you ever would.

Sometimes in the summer when the sun would set quicker than normal, you watched from your hiding place behind some sandbanks above sea level (acquirable by jumping over the railing of the wooden stairs down to the beach) as Minho darted up the stairs, leaving his cat and the penguins on the beach with the squid dumped out into a massive pile. He always returned within ten minutes, panting lightly as he jogged down the stairs, you smiled at these times, realising he’d forgotten to turn the lighthouse light on before he’d ventured down to the picturesque beach. You could hear, when he returned, his scowling reprimands to his cat who had gluttonously eaten most of the squid instead of leaving it to the small penguins that waddled further up the beach after realising there was no extra food left.

You thought, if anyone ever asked you why you liked Minho (not that they’d know enough to ask), you’d simply say you loved the way his accomplished smile would lazily spread its way over his face once he returned up the stairs a final time to head home, a hand grasping the handle of his tin bucket tightly and oddly thalassic cat leaping up two stairs at a time alongside him. You thanked whatever lords you could that he never saw you, you’d rather dive into a pool of slimy seaweed and swim in it for 4 hours than have Minho Lee think you were some kind of creep (even if you most definitely were one).

☇

It was a Wednesday night, a storm had hit and the rain pelted against the tin of your roof. You listened in a state of equanimity, shutting your eyes that were watching in a trance as the light beamed from the lighthouse every 7 seconds.

You heard the low hum of light thunder off in the distance of the ocean, smiling lightly. You’d always loved listening to storms, finding it fascinating that something so frantic and chaotic could be so calming to your senses. You very nearly fell asleep, leaning on the windowsill of your living room which was lit only by a warm lamp in the far corner, your parents on the couch reading their own novels due to the TV reception cutting off during the harshness of the storm. You would’ve fallen asleep, in fact, if a sudden banging hadn’t sounded from your front door.

At first, you and your parents thought it to be the storm, maybe a tree banging against one of your walls, that was until you heard the faint yelling that was very almost washed away by the howls of the wind. Your mother instantly sprung to her feet, padding her way quickly to the door. You and your father followed with haste, wondering what could be going on, scared of the things that could happen on this horrid night.

There were definitely calls for help as you reached your front door, the banging persistent. Your mother unlocked the door and tugged it open, your breath caught in your throat as you saw what was there.

Minho Lee stood in your doorway, one arm holding his panic-stricken cat and the other moving from its poise it held from banging on the door to wrap around the arm of a woman who stared vacantly through the house despite her furrowed brows. Minho’s hair was drenched, worry tracing all over his features as he stuttered to explain himself.

“Oh my god!” Your mother stated, immediately reaching out to the woman on Minho’s side to lead them into the house. Minho’s cat broke free of the boy’s hold, scampering into the living room towards the heater that was in there. “What happened?”

“I’m terribly sorry Y/M/N, we really don’t mean to intrude!” Your brows furrowed at the way Minho’s supposedly mother wasn’t looking towards your mum as she spoke to her. “The roof in our living room collapsed, Minho insisted on getting out. He’s worried sick about the roof in other rooms collapsing and—”

“Oh Mrs Lee! That’s awfully unsafe, of course you can’t stay there!” Your mother exclaimed, placing a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Honey, would you go get some towels? And some of Markus’ old clothes?”

Markus was your cousin, his family lived in the Netherlands although he lived with you for two years whilst studying a marine biology course at small university nearby. His room was still set up the way he’d left it, aside from a few valued possessions he took back home with him once his course had finished.

Your father set off through the house, not saying a word as he was too shocked by the sudden situation.

“Y/N, sweetie, boil the kettle would you please?” Your mother asked you, turning to smile at you reassuringly.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Tea or coffee, Mrs Lee?” You asked the woman, who smiled, still not looking towards you.

“Coffee with milk would be perfect, Y/N.” You nodded and your eyes subconsciously flitted to Minho.

You were taken aback once you realised he was staring at you, wet hair dripping onto the floor and nose red from the cold. His eyes looked curious, confused, maybe even skeptical, you weren’t sure. Intimidated by his gaze, you quickly turned on your heel and made a beeline into the kitchen.

Filling the kettle, then flicking it on, you processed the situation as you waited. Minho Lee and his mother were in your house, it was currently 11:14 PM and his cat was wandering around your living room. A storm had somehow damaged their home and Minho was too worried to stay there for the night. Okay, you thought, this was only slightly weird.

“I uh—,” a voice sounded it’s way from the entrance to the kitchen, you whipped your head around to see a sheepish looking Minho, towel laid over his shoulders. “I didn’t know you lived here.”

What was this? Minho in your home, muddy shoes dirtying your kitchen tiles, Minho talking to you like he’d known you forever. Your eyes went a little wide and your ears pricked as the kettle flicked off, sounds of bubbling coming from it and steam filling the air. You whipped your head back around, fingers curling into fists as you tried to figure out what to say.

“Uh. Yeah, I don’t know why you would.” You replied, occupying your hands by pulling cups from the cupboard above your head.

“I’ve been at school with you for as long as I can remember, I think I should at least notice if you’re my neighbour.” His voice sounded closer, you didn’t dare turn around. Your cheeks felt redder at the thought of Minho actually knowing who you are, it somehow made your slight obsession with him way more embarrassing.

“Here, let me make my mum’s one. She’s a picky woman.” Minho mused, speaking through your silence that you didn’t know you’d allowed.

He was next to you already, grabbing one of the mugs from the bench and brewing a coffee with odd steps. He poured the milk first, before the water, and when you nervously trailed your eyes up to his face, you noticed his lips mouthing numbers as he counted how many times he stirred the coffee. His eyes flitted to you and you looked away, continuing to make your dad’s usual order of black tea.

“My name’s Minho, by the way.” He murmured, seemingly growing less and less confident as you didn’t reply.

“I know.” It tumbled from your lips before you could stop it, and your back straightened in fear. Fear of what? You weren’t too sure, maybe of Minho discovering how often he plagued your thoughts even when you weren’t at school with him.

“Really? I don’t think I’ve properly met you though.” He said back, and although you couldn’t see, you felt him turn to face you just the slightest bit more.

“I’ve been at school with you for as long as I can remember, I think I should at least know your name.” You replied, reiterating his words from earlier before picking up both mugs and turning to the boy. “Shall we?”

He simply smiled and followed you out of the kitchen into the lounge room where your parents and Minho’s mother sat. You noticed Minho’s cat had curled up on the windowsill that you had occupied before Minho arrived, you smiled, making a mental note to pet the cat later on.

“Y/N! Minho and his mum will be staying with us for a little while, just until they can figure everything out.” Your father said from his place closest to the heater, smiling graciously as he took his mug from your hand.

“Sounds good!” You said, politely smiling at Minho’s mother who didn’t return it to you. You watched as Minho gripped his mother’s hand and dragged it towards the coffee he made for her, only letting go of the mug once he was sure her hand was wrapped around it tightly.

“Perfect. Y/N, could you take Minho to Markus’ old room? There’s some clothes on the armchair. And Minho, feel free to shower before you go to sleep if need be.” You mum said, smiling warmly at you as you nodded, awkwardly grabbing the clothes from the chair and passing them to the boy.

You lead Minho once more, out of the room and down the hall. Markus’ room was next to yours, the wood of his door frame still littered with pencil and texta drawn lines of your growing height since you were small.

“Uh, here you go. The bathroom’s right there too if you uh, need it.” You said, leaning into the empty bedroom to flick on the light switch.

“She’s blind, by the way.” Minho said, looking at you unsurely. “My mum. You uh-, you looked a little confused back there.”

“Oh.” You replied, letting the statement sink in. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

Minho just smiled softly and shook his head, “That’s alright. I’ll see you in the morning?”

You nodded dumbly and stepped back as he made his way into his room, you opting to quickly brush your teeth before going to bed.

It was strange, talking to Minho Lee was strange. His voice sounded nice when he was tired, quieter than what you heard at school and just the slightest bit lower. You wondered what would happen tomorrow, if maybe you’d walk to school together or maybe you’d walk home together, too.

Maybe Minho Lee wouldn’t be the one you admired from afar anymore, maybe the thumping in your heart would remain constant as he would stick around, talking with you more often than you’d had thought possible.

☇

That morning, your family walked Minho and his mother to their home, checking the ruin from the storm and allowing Minho to collect his uniform and things for school providing nothing had happened to his room. The cat, Vanta as you had learnt his name to be, followed along behind you, ignoring the hole in the roof and travelling straight to the metal bowl near the laundry and meowing loudly. Minho sighed and fed the obnoxious cat before he got a headache from its ear piercing screeches.

You smiled at the cat, standing awkwardly in the living room as your parents assessed the damage.

“Can you see any photo albums anywhere? I think they were on the bookshelf.” Minho’s mother said, standing approximately five metres from where you were, nibbling on her bottom lip as your mother recited what was damaged.

Your dad instantly took towards the bookshelf that at fallen over once the weight of the collapsed roof hit it (“A tree feel on it,” your dad said after wandering outside for a couple of minutes. “It was completely uprooted during the storm. The baby red gum.”).

“We don’t need the photo albums mum,” you turned your head to see Minho walking down the stairs, school bag tossed over his shoulder and uniform thrown on messily. “It’s not like they’re important.”

“They’re beyond important Minho!” His mother insisted, emphasising her point with pointed movements of her hands. “Just because I can’t see them doesn’t mean I don’t know they’re embarrassing, you can’t escape them even if you tried.”

“Found them!” Your father called over Minho’s groan. You immediately rushed to your father’s side, gathering an odd five books in your arms and moving to place them into a box that centred the room.

“I’ll get my stuff after school.” The boy that clouded your thoughts was beside you, you found it annoying how suddenly he always appeared next to you. “Wanna go?”

You nodded, red crawling up your cheeks as you weren’t prepared to have him speaking to you so openly. You hugged your parents, telling them you’d come straight home after school, before taking off to follow Minho out of his dishevelled home.

“I just need to—, uh, you know?” He gestured vaguely to the lighthouse that towered over his home, and you smiled brightly.

“Can I come?” You questioned, wanting to see what it was like to scale the stairs of the lighthouse, to see what happened when Minho turned the beam of it off.

Minho tilted his head lightly, “You want to come?”

“Of course! I used to always wonder what it looked like inside.” You felt your nerves subside around the boy slightly, senses overwhelmed at the pure want to venture into the tall tower of white, to see what exactly went on inside.

Minho smiled at you, slightly lopsided and told you to take off your bag at the entrance, leading you towards the small, hut like entrance of the lighthouse. You did as you were told once you reached the destination, listening as he fumbled with the key in the lock and feeling the soft spray of just barely rain on your face, wind blowing hair into your face making you sigh and run your fingers through it.

A loud creak sounded from where Minho stood and you looked in slight awe as he pushed the large metal door open to reveal nothing but a minuscule hallway leading to the beginnings of a staircase.

“Whoa.” Is all you could say, following Minho inside as he reflexively began to scale the stairs.

Half way up you realised Minho must be magnificently fit to do this twice everyday without a break. Despite the fact you made your way up and down the stairs to the beach almost everyday, and walked to and from school everyday, your thighs were burning. What kind of muscle did Minho possess in his thighs to be able to do this so effortlessly all the time?

The stairs where flooding with light, provided by the occasional window that followed the spiralling steps. Scaffolding littered around the bends which you easily ducked underneath if it came to it, the metal stairs creaking quietly at random times during the climb. The gaps between each step showed just how high you were climbing, something that you could also notice as you saw a wider and clearer view of the ocean outside the windows than you’d ever had, the dark grey of the water crashing onto limestone cliffs into the distance with a spray of white, image slightly distorted through the specks of rain that covered the glass.

“You tired already?” Minho glanced over his shoulder to you, whose footsteps had become heavier and louder though you were only halfway up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed a riposte, embarrassed at the way he was seemingly unbothered but also knowing how to take a joke when it was made.

“Sure you don’t,” Minho slowed down on the stairs as they reached an end. “It doesn’t matter anyway, we’re almost there.” You sighed out of happiness as you hit the end of the climb, your feet subconsciously moving to take another step up causing you to stumble a bit.

Eyes searching around the landing, you didn’t see what you had initially expected from imagining the insides of a lighthouse. You were gazing out the larger window of the landing when your eyes flitted to Minho, who was pressing against a ladder to check it’s stability. Gaze wandering up, you saw light flooding in from the opening in the roof the wide-runged ladder was heading up into.

“You go first, that way if you fall it won’t be too catastrophic.” Minho turned to you, eyes meeting your wondrous ones. You couldn’t feel it but Minho’s heart skipped a beat at your awestruck glare. He’d never brought someone up into the lantern room before, no one except his mother on rare occasions.

“Luckily for you, Minho Lee, I know how to climb a ladder.” You retorted, feet already moving forward until you could reach out and grip the ladder with your hands.

“All good, then.”

Minho’s tone surprised you. His volume was low, sentence coming out in something that could only be described as a breathy whisper. He sounded roughly unfocused. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn and look at him, instead choosing to step up rung by rung into the light spilling from above.

Minho’s arms moved to hold the ladder in support once your body was far enough up, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with any unneeded close proximity. Once you crawled over the top of the opening and disappeared, Minho began climbing (taking a relatively shorter amount of time than it had taken you).

His head popped through the hole and his dark eyes immediately searched for your figure around the brightness of the room. Once he found you, his body still rising through the hatch, he smiled.

Normally, he would move straight to gaze out into the ocean, watching the waves crash against the cliffside and feeling it steady his heart beat.

You, however, had immediately gravitated towards the contraption in the centre that held the small bulb for the beaming light. Your eyes searching for an explanation as to how exactly it worked, how the light became so bright for the boats and ship-men to see.

“What d’ya think?” Minho said once he was on his feet, moving towards the contraption as well, though standing a safe distance behind you.

“It’s…” You paused, not really knowing how to describe it. You tilted your head and brought your fingers to brush the rust of the metal bars encasing the millions of layers of lenses that surrounded the tiny bulb. “It’s different. Different from what I thought it would be, at least.”

Minho laughed lightly, passing to the other side of the circular room to flick off the switch to the light.

“And what exactly did you think it would be?” He asked, moving to stand beside you as your eyes remained fixated on the light bulb.

“Oh, the usual. Haunted and full of curses like in ‘Round the Twist’.” You stepped back, turning to face Minho once you deemed there to be enough space between the two of you.

Minho laughed at this, eyes almost closing as his cheeks rose with his smile. “Of course! Bronson is my cousin, I’ll have you know.”

You laughed too. Somewhere in your heart, you felt at ease, knowing an internal question was answered and that Minho was amused by that, amused by you.

☇

“We’re doing a Maccas run if you wanna come along,” your friend beside you finally picked up their duffel bag which they brought today to prepare for a soccer game. “I’m hungry as fuck.”

“Nah man, I gotta get home.” You grumbled, kicking a stone along the gravel of your schoolyard once you started walking.

“Shit, sorry!” Your friend whipped their head towards you. “Did I keep you? I shouldn’t have asked you to stay!”

You shook your head and smiled. “Nah, it’s all good. It wasn’t that long.”

“Yeah, but still. I could’ve seen Miss García on my own.” The grumbles beside you made you smile before you playfully bumped your hips into theirs.

“I said it’s all good man,” your friend laughed, happily reciprocating the action. “Now get a fucking move on! Jamie is probably waiting at your car already.”

“Okie dokie. See ya tomorrow, yeah?” They called out, stepping backwards towards the student car park. You just nodded at them and waved as you turned off your heel and walked in the opposite direction towards the front gates of the school.

The day was still gloomy, a pale overcast with occasional bouts of spitting, nothing too extreme though unlike the previous night. When you arrived, a few head teachers were forcing some poor year sevens to clean up the mess of sticks and branches that had strewn their way across the school yard, moving inches at a time when a harsh wind broke through. You’d almost forgotten about Minho once you agreed to walk your friend to the science staff-room to confront their teacher about an extension on their most recent assignment (“She’s being a twat about it.” They’d told you, “It’s like she’s never fucking heard of a sporting life! Like, hello? I’m kinda representing the school here!”)

That’s why you were washed with a sense of overwhelming guilt when you turned a corner only to see Minho Lee leaning on one of the brick pillars that made up the entrance.

“Minho?” You called out, watching as his head snapped up from his phone, hair falling perfectly over his forehead.

“Oh! Y/N!” He smiled lazily, it was like an infectious disease and you couldn’t help but smile back. “I was beginning to think you’d left without me.”

“I uh—,” you stopped in front of him, waiting for him to lean off of the wall and start walking with you. “I didn’t realise we were walking back together.”

Minho subconsciously tried to match his steps with yours; left, right. Left, right.

“Oh, yeah, I uh— We should’ve clarified that, huh?” If you’d looked up from the pavement, you might’ve seen the hint of red splaying it’s way across his cheeks.

You hummed, and he supplied words for the nearly uncomfortable silence. “I would’ve texted you, but I don’t have your number. So, yeah.”

You felt it coming, the smile that spread itself wide across your face, not even slowing at your attempts to stop it. “Is this your weird way of asking for my number?”

“Don’t you think I should have it?” Out of the corner of your eye you saw the dark haired boy’s hands shoving themselves into the pockets of his pants. “I mean, I’m walking you home after all.”

Spluttering and with red crawling up your neck, you retorted with a bite. “You mean; we’re walking back to my home, which is also now your temporary home.”

“Ah, you got the message too?” He questioned, feet now avoiding stepping on any cracks that could be found on the pathway.

The message he was referring too, which you did receive, was regarding the damage to Minho’s house.

The roofing for the half of the first level not covered by the second floor would need to be completely replaced, as well as the common roof/floor of the first and second level would need to have some checks done and possibly some reinforcements placed in it.

Your parents, being the overly kind people they were, had immediately offered Minho and Mrs. Lee a place to stay, simply not allowing the small family to spend the high expense of the only hotel in town and stating that renting was too much effort for only 3 months. Your palms had sweated once you received the news, thoughts of Minho living in the same house as you were just terrifying. He’d see you every morning you woke up, he’d see the times you ate your food like an absolute pig, he’d even see your odd Milo habits (which included not mixing in the Milo at all, something that was extremely absurd to your friends).

“Yeah.” You breathed out. “I did.”

Minho hummed this time, not really knowing how to respond. You noticed his awkward aura and elbowed him lightly in the side, why did I do that?

“Welcome, officially, to the Y/L/N household, buddy.” Minho smiled at you after you said this, and just for a moment you believed this situation was normal. You believed this situation was okay.

☇

“Mum, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You heard Minho hiss (a poor attempt in being quiet, you thought) from the living room as you tiptoed down the hall on a Saturday afternoon. “You can’t just start talking to her again like that!”

You paused, almost backtracking in your subconscious need to not interrupt the tension happening in the room down the hall.

“It’s one phone call, darling. It’s not like I’m forgiving her or anything,” you heard his mum say back, voice calm and with significantly less venom than the tone Minho held. “I think this is quite the opposite actually, she won’t be exactly happy to hear the news.”

“She’s going to think we’re relying on her—”

“Which we are—!”

“That’s not the point I’m trying to make!” Minho exclaimed, voice rising before he immediately dropped his volume. “I don’t want to make her feel important, like we still need her.”

“We do need her, Minho.” His mother sighed. “We need her to live comfortably, and you should be grateful that she’s giving you a life I couldn’t.”

“Mum–” Minho winced, you could practically feel the tears welling up in his eyes from the hallway. “Mum, I’d rather be living on the streets with you than be living in a mansion paid by her.”

You heard the footsteps padding quickly from the loungeroom, you barely had any time to react before Minho was striding out into the narrow hallway of your single storey house. His body somewhat startled when it noticed your presence, not 6 feet down the way, and his eyes snapped to yours.

Your prediction was right, his eyes were glassy, he looked like he was about to burst out into tears. Why couldn’t it be one of your parents in the situation? Getting caught listening in on an obviously private conversation. Of course they had both been busy at work or running errands. He immediately stepped backwards in the opposite direction down the hallway than you, eyes widening before his body turned and sped it’s way down the hall and out of the house into the weather of yet another windy afternoon. Your feet instinctively moved to follow him, the exigency to apologise taking over your body.

“Y/N?” Your legs halted just as you passed the open doorway into the loungeroom. “Leave him, he doesn’t like people seeing him upset.”

You immediately backtracked, turning your head into heat pouring out of the loungeroom. “Mrs Lee, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” they lady said, smiling in your general direction after hearing your voice. “You did nothing, I’m sorry you had to see him act out like that.”

Your heart stilted lowly, you ached to go and find him and tell him you were sorry, that you were simply curious. You breathed in, stuttered, and smiled. Mrs Lee couldn’t see your smile, no, but she could hear it in your voice and feel it change the mood of the room.

“It’s all good, Mrs Lee. Should I make you a cuppa? We bought shortbreads yesterday, too.”

“Same as usual if you could, Y/N” She answered, before smiling brightly from her place on the couch. “And please, call me Minseo.”

☇

You had just finished setting the table, now leading a disoriented Mrs Lee—, or Minseo as she preferred you to call her by, to her seat as she was still quite unfamiliar with the layout of your home. Your mum chose to make a simple Tuscan dish, calling out to you from the kitchen.

“Do you mind going and finding Minho for dinner?” Your fingers clenched unknowingly around Minho’s mum’s arm, senses of doubt flooding your mind.

The lady you were leading must have noticed, because she leant closer to you to whisper by the side of your face. “Don’t worry love, he’ll have calmed down by now.”

“Where can I find him?” You asked, heartbeat steadying as you pulled out a chair and led Minseo’s hands to it so she could find her own way into the seat (as per her request, “I want to do everything I can do.”)

“He’s only ever in two places aside from home, the beach or the lighthouse. Hope you’re ready for a work out.” Minho’s mum cheekily joked, quickly placing a hand over yours in comfort.

“Thank you,” You murmured before turning your head and calling out into the general vicinity of the kitchen. “I’ll be back soon! Don’t wait up for us!”

You walked out of your front door shortly after that, only stopping to grab a coat, and you were greeted with the fresh smell of saltwater that floated along the chilly air. You decided not to go down to the beach first, figuring if it was this late (not late, 8:26PM actually) he’d be done with the penguins and the tide would scale too high for any lengthy walks along the sand. Your feet carried you towards the lighthouse, puffing in relief when you noticed the large metal door, that was painted in a peeling white, was left slightly ajar.

Hurriedly, you stepped inside, desperate to escape the harsh wind that broke through the fabric of your thick jacket. Peering through the hallway, fear struck inside your mind. It was dark, almost dungeon like even though the stairs definitely weren’t, and definitely didn’t, lead into any depths of the earth. You turned on your torch from your phone and began your climb, ignoring the chills that crawled down your spine at every light creak or howl of the wind outside. Your thighs began to ache, still slightly sore from the first time you’d climbed these stairs only mere days ago.

“Minho?” You called up the spiral case, hoping he’d hear and reassure you he was there. Alas, there was no response, so you kept scaling up.

Despite your best efforts with your torch, you stumbled nearing the solid landing of the tower after tripping on some scaffolding that lay there. You swore softly, regaining your balance and stepping out into the landing.

The ocean looked terrifying from this window, dark navy blue sky with only the moon to illuminate the way the waves violently crashed into the limestone of the cliffs. You turned your head away from the sight, suddenly only imagining how the tower might simply tilt and fall over into the unforgiving sea. The thought of being swallowed by the darkness of the water made your heart pound, but you were at least comforted by the way the light from the hatch up into the lantern room shone down onto the landing, lighting it significantly.

Wiping your palms wide and flat onto your jeans, you approached the ladder.

“Minho?” You tried again, but to no avail. You sighed, it wouldn’t hurt to check just to be sure.

Before you knew it, you were halfway up the ladder, head just shorter than half a foot away from peeking through the hole in the cast iron.

“Y/N?”

“Fuck!” You flew backwards, completely taken aback at the way Minho’s head suddenly appeared in the hatch. You didn’t even have time to register how cute he looked with his confused face, brows furrowed and lips slightly pouted.

Minho’s reaction was quick, quicker than he had appeared in the opening, even. His left hand immediately went out to grasp onto your elbow as his right arm hooked over the ladder to stabilise it.

“Shit! I’m so sorry,” he exclaimed, arm straining to help you back safely on the ladder. Your feet were still fastened to the rungs, but your upper body had leant back so suddenly that you very almost lost your balance, hands desperately reaching to grip the ladder which would have done no help. The ladder wasn’t completely fastened to the opening in the ceiling (floor? both?) meaning you would have simply brought the ladder down with you in your fall.

“Minho!” you almost shouted, heart pounding and pupils dilated in exhilaration. “You utter fuckwit!”

Minho’s eyes stared directly into yours for a few moments, examining them as he slowly dragged his arms away from you and the ladder. It was silent until he began laughing. Eyes crinkling and breath being sucked in through wheezes.

“Your fucking face!” He cried, leaning back from the hatch to allow you to climb through. “You should’ve seen it!”

“That could have been the last face you’d ever seen, Minho Lee,” You grumbled, climbing through the opening with ease. “If I died, I would’ve haunted you to immediate death.”

“You—, you were all ‘Fuck!’ and—” Minho did what he supposed was an impression of you. “—you just fucking fell! Who does that? You were on a ladder!”

“Maybe someone who was petrified of your ugly face!”

“Oh, come on Y/N. Be a little more original for my sake.”

“Oh, I’ll be original with threats if need be, Minho.” You said, eyes turning menacing and small smile creeping its way onto your face.

Minho raised an eyebrow, watching you as you stood up in front of him. “Hm? Is that so?”

“Y—yeah!” You were suddenly flustered by Minho’s mischievous gaze on you, his lips tilting into a shit-eating grin. “Watch it, or I’ll shove a skewer up your fucking urethra.”

It took a second for him to register what you had said, and what exactly it entailed. But when he realised, you laughed at the visible cringe that went through Minho’s body, “Too far! What the fuck?”

Soon he began laughing too, giggles falling from his lips at your response to his reaction. You felt his eyes on you whilst you were laughing, gallantry suddenly declining rapidly as you quickly composed yourself with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” You said, finally, eyes flitting to and from Minho’s attentive ones. “Dinner’s ready, if you wanna come down.”

The boy’s eyes followed your hands as they gestures vaguely to the ladder that disappeared down the hole. You became very aware of the room now, how the moon shone through some fast moving clouds sporadically.

“Oh, sure,” Minho seemed to have snapped out of his slight disorient. “I’ll uh—, I’ll go down first.”

Minho awkwardly walked by you before turning and stepping down the ladder without another glance your way. And when you climbed down the ladder, stumbling off the last rung with a state of clumsy, and Minho’s hands had moved quickly to tighten themselves around your waist, neither of you said anything.

Walking down the stairs, you felt a massive urge to turn around to Minho and apologise. Apologise for basically eavesdropping on his conversation with his mum. You stopped yourself with clenched fists, telling yourself that he wouldn’t appreciate you bringing up the episode when he was clearly in a much better mood. Your fingernails remained pressing into your palms all the way until you walked into the house.

“We’re here!” You announced, awkwardly leading Minho through the entrance and towards the dining room.

After serving Minho and yourself some food, you went to sit with your family who was animatedly talking to Minho’s mother about her decision to buy her home and the lighthouse that protected the boats travelling along the coastline.

“And yeah, my ex-girlfriend and I just decided to buy it!” You glanced up at Minho who shifted uncomfortably beside his mother, opting to lift up the jug of water on the table and top up his mother’s and his own glasses.

“Just like that?” Your mum questioned. “God, it would’ve taken me years to convince Y/D/N to buy that.”

“Yeah, I’ve always liked lighthouses,” Minho’s mother smiled fondly. “I would’ve found a way to live by one.”

A silence filled the table, awkward and filled only by the scrapes of knives and forks on the table. You could feel the question lingering in the air, your father probably twitching to ask it, but Minseo answered it before it was even verbalised.

“I became blind about,” she raised a hand to gesture a so-so movement. “Three years later? It was about 1 and a half years after we were finally able to adopt Minho here.”

You saw the movement of Minseo’s hand under the table to pat at her son’s knee, your eyes darted up to his face and only saw an uncomfortable smile. You downcast your eyes to your plate, Minho mustn’t like talking about his other mum at all.

“Do you like the lighthouse, Minho? I don’t think Y/N would remember to turn it on and off all the time.” Your mum queried, folding her arms over the table.

“Oh, I love it!” Minho said, straightening his back and smiling politely. “I took Y/N up there the other day, actually. Maybe we should start taking turns, just so I can have a break.”

He turned to you and smirked. You rolled your eyes as your parents and Minseo started laughing, amused by Minho’s proposal.

“What d’ya say, Y/N?” He asked, smirk turning slowly into a lopsided smile that you didn’t want to admit made your heart stutter.

Scoffing, you picked up your glass of water. “No thanks, I’d rather watch you suffer for a few more years yet.” You retaliated, smiling in accomplishment as Minho’s mum nodded in agreement.

You liked this; sitting down for dinner and conversing with people other than your parents so freely with laughter filling the table. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was nice.

☇

“Twenty Questions? Like, the game?”

It was late the next day, you sat with Minho on the floor of Markus’ old bedroom after helping him bring a plethora of items from his own bedroom for safe-keeping. You’d sat down on the floor with a cushion from the armchair in the room whilst Minho finished sorting some things into boxes.

“Yeah, the game.” Minho replies to you, moving to sit across from you on the floor. “I’ve never played it.”

You eyed the way he pulled his legs up and rested his elbows onto them before crossing them over, laying his hands over his upper arms. It seemed oddly intimate, talking to Minho in the warm, dim light of this bedroom. Sitting on the floor with still damp hair from your shower, fingers playing with the cracks in the floorboards below you.

“You know,” you started, turning your gaze to the small Star Wars poster Markus had left on the wall. “Twenty Questions is usually just called a conversation in my books.”

Minho breathed out a short laugh, smile twitching up on his lips. “Alright then. Let’s have a conversation.”

You nodded at him, and he began. “Books or movies?”

“Depends on whether the book or movie is better.” You shrugged, not thinking too hard. “Favourite colour?”

You smiled when Minho rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Basic. Mint green.”

“Ooh nice! I like mint green.” You butted in, pleased with his answer. Minho smiled and nodded in return.

“Tell me a random fact about yourself.” He demanded.

“That’s hardly a question, Minho.”

“This isn’t Twenty Questions, though,” the boy in front of you pointed out. “This is a conversation.”

“Oh my god—”

“Come on, just tell me!” Minho said, smile spreading wider over his lips. Once again, it was infectious, spreading its way over yours as well as you pondered for an answer.

“Uh, I can do this weird thing with my tongue?” You stated, slightly unsure, before opening your mouth and performing a weird tongue dance.

“What the fuck? You pass, that’s creepy.” You laughed at Minho’s scandalised face.

“What about you?” You said, ceasing your fiddling with the floor to lace your fingers together in front of you.

“Me? I’m ambidextrous.” Minho responded with a proud smile, clearly happy with his gift.

You left his room at 11:30PM, telling him he should get some rest before school after hours of questions, answers and detailed elaborations. Despite your earlier fears, it was easy to talk with Minho Lee. You didn’t have a problem speaking to him anymore aside from maybe when he’d do something that would make your heart stall for a brief moment. You didn’t know that his heart stalled too, every time you’d nudge him to get his attention or when you said something that he found particularly adorable.

He liked it, speaking with you, even if he wasn’t exactly used to it.

☇

A week later, you were taking a bite out of one of the chips from the packet you were holding just as another friend came to your table to sit down.

“Since when were you friends with Minho Lee?” He asked, hauling his bag into the table to open the zip on it. “I saw you walking to school with him this morning.”

You paused from eating your chips, you hadn’t really mentioned the whole Minho situation yet. You weren’t ashamed or anything, maybe embarrassed at your friends possibly beginning to believe you had a massive crush on him (which, though you didn’t want to admit it, was becoming more and more true each day you spent with him).

“Oh. Our families are friends.” You said simply, it was true. Your family was close with Minseo and Minho Lee now that they had been with you for a few weeks.

Your friend, Alex, raised a brow at you. “Yo, really? How come I didn’t know?” He exclaimed, faux offence lacing his features.

“I didn’t know either,” another friend piped in. “I’ve never even seen you talk to him!”

“Well,” you started before swallowing the remaining food in your mouth. “He doesn’t really talk much at school. He’s nice, though.”

“I’ve never seen him at breaks, he was in my science in year 10, though.” Alex piped up, finally pulling out a container of god-knows-what from his bag. “He broke like, three whole test tubes.”

You smiled, thinking of Minho being so clumsy to drop test tubes that often. “Sounds like him.”

“Who does he sit with? Like, where does he even go?” The girl beside you asks, eyebrows furrowing as she tried to remember if she’d seen him at a lunchtime before.

“I don’t know, actually.” You answered, tilting your head as you thought hard too. “I’ll ask him after school.”

Your friend nodded and Alex spoke once more, something that looked close to a Thai curry filling his cheeks. “Sin’f whe’dib you wok’ome wiv’im?”

Some heads on your table turned to him, only to join you in laughing at his so-called sentence. “Excuse me, what?”

He just rolled his eyes and gulped three times before opening his mouth again, enunciating it very clearly. “Since when did you walk home with him?”

You laughed breathily once more at your friend before responding. “Since not long ago, really.”

“Do you like him?” A girl named Iniya called from the other end of the table, causing you to almost choke on the water you’d just started to drink. Great, this is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“Excuse me?” You shot back, eyes pointing in an accusatory glare. “Why does every guy I talk to have to be a guy I like, Miss ‘I’m-So-Sick-Of-Romance’.”

“Not all guys!” She said. “I wouldn’t ever let you crush on Rawiri.”

All heads turn to Rawiri, another one of your friends, who was struggling the break the ice of his orchy cup. He looked up with wide and confused eyes. “You know, Iniya, I don’t know what I’ve ever fucking done to you.”

The table erupted with laughter and the subject of you liking Minho was forgotten, without you even straight up denying it.

☇

“My friends asked about you at lunch today.” You said, taking a bite into the potato cake Minho had given you which was doused in a thick amount of chicken salt.

“Really?” He questioned, shoving the change from his purchase in his pocket (“I can buy my own potato cake, Minho.” You’d argued, attempting to shove a two dollar coin into Minho’s hand. He only scoffed, and replied in a mocking tone; “I can buy my own potato cake, Minho.”).

“Yeah,” you gulped down your mouthful. “You should come sit with us at lunch.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Minho shaking his head. “No thanks, man. I’m busy during breaks.”

Silence ensued as you battled whether or not you should ask the question that you were thinking of, but you chose to ask it anyway.

“What do you even—”

“Homework,” Minho cut you off before you even finished. “I do it during school, I don’t have time to do it at home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You tilted your head slightly. “Would you mind if I came with you while you did it?”

“Yes,” you saw Minho look at you, but you didn’t turn to face him. “You’d be way too much of a distraction.”

“Oh, come on!” You exclaimed, looking at him with wide eyes and lips parted in slight offense. “I am not a distraction.”

“You talk,” he retorted. “Heaps. I don’t know how I survive honestly.”

“Okay Mr ‘I’m-gonna-wait-for-you-after-school-everyday’!”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

Minho let out an exasperated sigh before taking a large bite out of his potato cake. You looked away right after you realised you were staring at the chicken salt that remained on his lips, who does that?

“Fine. But I’m not gonna hesitate to kick you outta the library if you piss me off.” You fist pumped in victory before picking up your pace, basically skipping home with a proud face of accomplishment.

“Can you not run off?” Minho called down the street. “I’m kind of excruciatingly lazy, here!”

The next day, Minho led you from your shared society and culture class to the school library up at the 3rd floor of one of your school buildings.

“Hey Minho!” The librarian greeted, catching you off guard as Minho smiled and waved politely. You waved too before you realised Minho had quickly travelled away from you, already looking for a table.

He found an empty one, one painfully close to the Manga section of the library where a few edgy year eights sat, black nail polish on their fingers that flicked the pages of the book every few seconds.

“Sit across from me,” he directed, sitting down and swinging his bag onto the table. “I kinda need some space.”

You didn’t realise what he really meant by that until you saw just how seriously he was going to study. He pulled out his laptop and five different work books as well as two pencil cases (“One for pens ‘n’ stuff and the other for highlighters.”).

“Whoa.” You said, meekly dragging out your pencil case and your English book to begin your draft for an upcoming in class essay.

“Shush, I won’t hesitate to kick you out.”

You shut your mouth, eyes studying Minho’s dead serious expression as he stared directly at you. After a few seconds, you couldn’t help the fit of giggles that tumbled from your lips, causing Minho to roll his eyes and kick your shin under the table. You inhaled a large amount of air to calm down before apologising and getting a pen out from your pencil case.

You did your work without bothering Minho from then on. No noises, no erratic movements, nothing that would distract him in any way. You got a fair amount of work done, too, as you were almost halfway finished your essay draft. You’d suppressed some groans here and there, really despising the fact that you were stuck there doing an essay on Shakespeare’s ‘Othello’.

You and Minho had grown closer over the past few weeks. The air around you was no longer awkward and you could approach each other anytime without being overthrown by nerves and thoughts of ‘Am I annoying them?’ or ‘Are they too busy?’, thank god. Minho liked it a lot, actually. Having a friend, that is. He more of survived off of acquaintances, not really having the time to hang out with people outside of school when he wanted to spend his time looking after the lighthouse and, of course, his mum.

But he couldn’t help but smile at knowing he could talk to you about things that were just funny and relatable at your age, things he probably couldn’t laugh about with his mum. He liked it most when you approached him, smile gracing your lips and a snarky comment tumbling from them in some form of greeting that, even though it was most likely a comment to offend him, made his heart beat a little harder.

At first, he’d played it off simply as excitement of having a friend, of having someone close to his age that he could talk to whenever he wanted pretty much. But now? Now he had realised.

His eyes fell on you constantly as he was supposed to be studying, not that you noticed with your furrowed brows and nose buried deep into your copy of ‘Othello’. He wanted to say something to tease you when he noticed your phone on the table, image on the screen lighting up of google and the search bar filled with ‘synonyms for emotions’ and other various things. He just let out a small smile and trailed his eyes up to your face, pupils dilated as you read through a scene of the play, sometimes your eyes flicking back up a few lines once you realised you weren’t really paying attention to what you were reading. Your fingers tapped on the table silently and your workbook lay open to reveal two pages of messily written words that were crossed out and rewritten, little notes in red above some sentences and quotes from the play written larger than the rest of it, as if to draw attention to them over your actual analysis.

Minho could feel it, his heart beating a little faster, but it didn’t stop him from staring at the way your eyelashes splayed over your cheekbones whenever you blinked. He could feel it, the lump in his throat as he realised he really, really wanted to kiss you, even if he didn’t really know how.

He liked you, and he felt like an idiot for feeling that way.

Minho barely got any work done that day.

(“What do you mean I’m ‘too distracting’? I barely said a word!”

“Yeah, I don’t care. I’m going back to studying on my own.”)

☇

You were lying on you bed on a late Sunday afternoon, a whole month after the time you got denied to study with Minho after he deemed you an unfit ‘Study Buddy’, your phone in your hands as you scrolled through Instagram.

It was mid spring now, and the sun had begun beating down harder (not that you noticed, as the bellowing wind was still very, very prominent).

“Hey,” you heard a voice from your doorway and you tilted your head to find Minho standing there. “Wanna come down to the beach with me? I’ve got something cool to do.”

You sat up, already very prepared to tag along. “Are we feeding the penguins—?” You cut yourself off and clamped your mouth shut. Minho hadn’t told you about the penguins yet, and he most certainly didn’t know you knew about him feeding them almost every night when they returned from the sea.

“Huh?” He said, tilting his head at you and furrowing his brows. “Did I already tell you about them? Damn, I wanted it to be a cool surprise.”

You let out the breath you were holding and nodded. “Oh well, I still haven’t seen them yet.”

The boy in your doorway smiled at you. “Let’s go then.”

After throwing on some thongs and grabbing a coat to fight the wind, you followed Minho out of your home and along the dirt pathway that led, basically, to his house. You expected to go inside but Minho simply walked around the back, passed all the scaffolding and equipment left over from the renovation, and to a small shed.

“We’re gonna feed them some squid. I took it out of the freezer this morning,” He said, yanking the wooden door of the shed open. “But I still have to keep it in here because Vanta is a massive pig.”

You laughed lightly, already noting the way Vanta had followed you and suddenly appeared meowing in the doorway of the shed as Minho went inside and picked up a bucket full to above the brim with thawed raw squid. He began complaining about how heavy it was, but still defended the bucket from your hands and your words of ‘Just let me carry it!’.

Eventually, he caved, letting your hands grab at the handle and follow him whilst carrying it. He led you down the path that led to the stairs down the beach, Vanta scampering along behind you.

“They should be out soon,” he said, taking the bucket from your tired hand once you reached the bottom of the stairs. “The sun’s just about to set.”

You nodded, stepping out further into the beach over various cuttlefish bones and almost dry seaweed that lay strewn across it. Despite living right next to it, you weren’t too fond of the ocean. But with Minho placing the bucket down in the middle of the small beach and jogging past you to lead Vanta to the place where the water licked at the sand, kicking off his thongs on the way, you felt a wave of contentment wash over you.

“What the fuck even is your cat?” You called out to Minho, leaving your thongs next to his as you walked down to where Vanta was leaping around in the water.

“I have no idea,” he mumbled, watching her splash her paws together in the sand under the thinnest layer of salt-water. “It’s fucking freezing in there.”

You stood there for 20 minutes at least, laughing at Minho’s odd cat before noticing some penguins swimming into the shore just a little while up the beach. Minho smiled brightly, running to grab the bucket of squid, sand kicking up behind him a little bit as he stumbled.

It was still just barely light out, pink-turning-purple slowly descending over the horizon. It was still light enough to watch Minho wave you over, telling you to walk gently, slowly as you got closer to the tiny pack of penguins.

Although cautious, many weren’t too phased by Minho and your presence, choosing just to slowly waddle past you. That was when Minho nudged you, telling you to copy him as he grabbed a handful of the squid and tossed it in the general direction of the penguins.

By this point, Vanta had realised what you were doing and she ran over, startling some of the penguins as she picked up some of the squid.

“Goddamn pig, I swear.” Minho whispered to you, smiling as you reached towards the bucket and flung a handful of the squid to roughly the same place Minho did.

The penguins were flooding in by now, and the bucket was nearly empty as Minho’s and your throws became more and more generous. Minho let you have the last toss, laughing as you dramatically threw it into the air, watching it scatter over the sand near where the penguins were.

Minho’s eyes set on you. Your face illuminated by the last glimpses of purple peeking over the vast sea, and his heart leapt into his throat. Ah, he thought, this is what I’ve been missing out on all these years.

“Come on, let’s go.” He bumped his shoulder with yours. “I’d rather not have my hands smell like squid for much longer.”

You nodded enthusiastically, turning around to go and grab your thongs.

“Oh shit!” You laughed once you realised both yours and Minho’s pairs were painfully close to the rising tide, probably minutes away from being washed out to sea.

Minho laughed, coming over to grab his pair in the hand that wasn’t holding the bucket, and you both climbed up the three flights of stairs to the pathway that would lead you home. You talked Minho’s ear off on the way up about how cool that was, and how adorable those penguins were. You even threw in an idea about how you could turn it into a tourist attraction and earn a shit-tonne of money before quickly rejecting idea, shutting it down with an ‘Exploitation of animals isn’t cool. They might get super anxious!’.

Minho could wipe the smile off of his face, all the way to your kitchen even as he ran some warm water and you squirted some foaming soap into his awaiting hands.

Your mum came in, checking the food that was brewing on the stove in the kitchen and smiling at you fondly.

“Where did you guys go?” She questioned, lowering the heat that flared up on the undersides of the pot.

“Just down to the beach,” you turned and smiled at her, soap lathered over your hands. “Minho showed me the penguins! We fed them!”

“Really?” Your mum raised her eyebrows, turning to Minho who smiled sheepishly. “That sounds amazing!”

“Yeah, Y/N seemed to like it more than I did.”

“They were so cute! I’ve never been that close to them before and—” You let out a small sound to emphasise just how adorable they were, and you missed the way Minho looked at you fondly from his place next to you.

Your mum smiled before telling you you were eating fajitas for the night, adding on that the family wasn’t going to sit around that table because she was too lazy for that. Your family rarely sat around the table until the Lee’s came, opting to just eat dinner in the loungeroom or have you take your food to your room to eat whilst you studied.

You smiled and nodded at your mother, rinsing off your hands before pulling out some plates from a cabinet and beginning to make an abundance of food with Minho helping.

“Maybe you guys should go and eat up at the lighthouse? That’d be cool, wouldn’t it?” You looked at your mum skeptically, only to find her smiling quite genuinely. With that, you turned your head to face Minho, practically begging him with your eyes.

“Shit—!” He exclaimed before quickly shutting his mouth and apologising to your mother for swearing. “I forgot to turn the light on!”

Minho’s eyes were wide and you laughed at him, shoving the plates into his hands. “You go up first, I’ll come up in a bit with some water ‘n’ stuff.”

Minho nodded at you graciously, asking you to also possibly bring up his jacket with you. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be up in ten!”

After that, Minho was off rushing out the door and you were jogging down your hallway to find a spare backpack. After finding one you quickly shoved in a couple of blankets and a big water bottle. Your mum came up behind you and shoved in a packet of double coated Tim Tams.

“Minho’s a nice boy, don’t’cha think?” She said to you, smiling as you zipped up the bag and reached for Minho’s coat that lay on a nearby chair.

“Lay off it, mum.” You knew she was just teasing, probably had noticed your blushy cheeks from earlier (which most certainly weren’t because Minho smiled at you so wide his gums showed).

Saying goodbye, you walked out of the house, turning on the flashlight of your phone and wandering out towards the lighthouse. You tilted your head back, looking up, and smiled once you realised Minho had already switched the light on, the top room glowing brightly every seven seconds.

It took you a shorter amount of time to scale the stairs this time around, after doing it so often lately of course. And once you climbed up the ladder, Minho was waiting for you with half a fajita stuffed into his mouth. He tried to greet you but it obviously didn’t work out as it only came out in a mixture of muffled sounds followed by laughter followed by him almost choking on his food.

You smiled as he struggled to swallow the massive bite he’d taken out of his fajita, amused by his dumbassery. He gasped for air once he swallowed and gestures for you to sit down with him, shoving your plate towards you.

“Took you long enough,” he said, reaching into the bag you’d dropped in front of him to pull out the bottle of water. “Your food almost went cold— oh, fuck yes! Tim Tams!”

You laughed again and he turned to you whilst unscrewing the cap of his bottle. “Go on, eat up!”

You did as he said, stuffing your face with food as he recited the story of the last time he’d come to chill up here and how he fell asleep, giving Minseo a heart attack in doing so. Listening to Minho talk was easy, he jumped from one story to another with ease and seemed like he didn’t even need your input to keep going.

“—And so yeah, mum’s pretty proud of her–, I mean, our culture so she wanted to adopt a Korean baby too. Even gave me a Korean name which is sometimes a bitch because the majority of what I get at school is ‘Minno’ and—” Minho looked up to you from his empty plate and realised you’d also finished eating, and were just sitting there with your cheek in your palm as you listened to him speak. “Shit, sorry, I’m rambling.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I like it actually.”

“Really?” He asked, self-convinced you were lying to make him feel better.

“Yeah. I’ve always liked listening to people talk,” you said, reassuring the now timid boy. “It’s comforting.”

“How so?” He queried, offering you the bottle of water you packed and pulling out the Tim Tams from the bag.

“My cousin, Markus,” You said in between gulps of water. “He used to have friends over a lot and I’d always fall asleep when they were talking loud as fuck in his room. Ever since, talking has just been something that I liked listening to.”

Minho nodded, staring into your eyes with a smile. “It’s a good thing I like talking, then.” He commented, biting into a Tim Tam.

You hummed in return, picking a Tim Tam out of the packet and biting into it as well.

“You know,” you glanced up at Minho once he started talking again. “I never really used to care for, or like, talking.”

“Hm? Why’d’ya like it now?” You tugged out a blanket from the bag on the floor, wrapping it snug around your shoulders.

“I just–, never used to have friends I guess. Until that dumb tree fell on our house and I met you, that is.” Minho shrugged dismissively, but you saw the red crawling up his neck at his confession. “I think I just have a lot of stories to tell that I haven’t told before.”

“That sounds about right.”

There was silence for a while, and you turned your head to look at the gleaming light of the lighthouse, visibly cringing when it shone due to the pure brightness of the concentrated beam.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I sorta—,” Minho’s voice shook a bit and you tried not to notice the red spreading over his face to save the poor boy the embarrassment. “I just wanted you to know that I like being friends with you.”

Your heart stalled before beginning to beat erratically. You knew it wasn’t a big deal, that Minho likes being your friend, but you couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. Your ears pricked as he continued before you could respond.

“You always listen to me say dumb shit and put up with me being sorta edgy, I guess. You don’t even care about how weird my family is and for some reason, Vanta likes you more than she likes me, which would totally not be okay but it’s sort of okay because it’s you.” Minho’s fingers intertwined with each other out of– nervousness? Embarrassment? You didn’t know. But you did feel the sudden urge to untangle them and hold his hands in your own.

Red started appearing brightly on your cheeks, but Minho was staring at his clasped hands and didn’t notice. You saw the way his nose sniffed a little bit and his top lip protrudes more than usual because he was looking down. You really, really wanted to kiss him.

“After my mums old carer retired, I sort of lost contact with my friends to look after her. That’s not a complaint; I like doing it, but like—. I don’t know, it’s pretty cool that you’ll hang out with my mum and me and you try really hard to help her without being overbearing about it.”

God, he puffed his cheeks out a little and took a small glance up at you before flitting his eyes out of the window towards the bush-land opposite the sea. You just really wanted to squish his cheeks together and kiss him and see his blush up close, right in front of your eyes.

“Not to mention, you’re just really cool. You follow me up this dumb lighthouse and come feed penguins with me and walk with me to and from school. I guess I’ve just never had a friend as close as you, and I really—”

Fuck it.

You leant forward at a lightening speed, pressing your lips to Minho’s and effectively cutting off his little speech. Your stomach swooped excitedly, though it wasn’t even a proper kiss. You simply pressed your lips to his for two seconds before pulling back with wide eyes and pressing a hand to your mouth in shock.

Minho, at this point, was bright red. His cheeks were burning and he felt slightly dizzy as he looked at you with eyes that mirrored yours. His heart was beating beyond fast, his little monologue long forgotten because, holy shit, you’d just kissed him.

“Fuck.” You started, taking the blanket off of your shoulders and beginning to shove it into your backpack whilst avoiding Minho’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry Minho that was really uncalled for.”

Minho couldn’t respond, his tongue simply would not move and lay in his mouth limply as he watched you pack up some things.

“I’ll go down first and we—” you huffed out a breath, beginning to stand up. “We can just forget about it, yeah?”

“Wait!” Minho’s body finally registered his brains signals as his hand reached out to grip at your wrist, tugging you back down to sit in front of him again. He didn’t continue until a few seconds after, causing your anxiety to scale up quickly. “You just took my first kiss.”

God, way to play the guilt card Minho. “Fuck, Minho. I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot and you can beat me up if you wa—”

“Can you take my second kiss, too?”

You paused, you hands shaking slightly out of nerves and your head spinning as you tried to focus solely on his face. Did Minho Lee really just say that?

“Huh?” Was the only thing you could say, panic swirling through your mind.

“Can you kiss me again? I’d kiss you but I don’t really know how and—”

You moved forward before you even knew it, hands crashing onto Minho’s knees and lips crashing to his. It was still for a moment, neither of you moving until you realised you were the only one with the slightest knowledge or experience, even if it was just a slightly buzzed kiss at a party when you were 16. You breathed out out of your nose slightly before tilting your head and pulling back the tiniest bit. You could feel Minho’s small pant over your lips just before you leant back towards him, tilting your head slightly more.

It was awkward and full of hesitancy, but when you pulled away Minho only sat closer and leaned towards you to kiss you again.

And again.

With each new kiss grew more confidence, smiles and small giggles escaping both of your lips whenever you bumped noses with one another. Your ministrations matched up with his after however many tries and Minho’s hands lifted from where they were carefully caressing your arms up to cup at your cheeks and press forward a bit harder.

You knew you were bright red, and your mind swarmed with thoughts and words: Oh my god, Minho’s lips were so soft. Oh my god, the way his thumbs brushed over your cheekbones. Oh my god, Minho was kissing you. Oh my god, Minho was kissing you. It felt like a long time after a millennium when you pulled back, forehead pressing to his and nose brushing his affectionately.

Despite the way your heart had initially thrashed in your chest and the way your blood had rushed through your body with pure adrenaline egged on only further by Minho’s gentle and hesitant movements, despite all that, it was a calming thing kissing Minho. After a while, your heart slowed down to a low thumping beat and your fingers, which had fisted themselves around Minho’s t-shirt, uncurled themselves to splay across his chest.

You felt it under your fingertips, the shudder that travelled through his body once you pushed your hands upwards onto his shoulders, hugging at the base of his neck.

You didn’t talk about it when you finally parted once and for all, sleep heavy in your minds as your gentle kisses to each other had lulled you both into some kind of trance. Simply, you packed your things with tired smiles and travelled the long way down the stairs and out into the slight chill of the early springtime air. Minho walked closer to you than normal, assuring your sides at the very least brushed up against each other with every stride.

Nothing was said, even as Minho smiled at you so softly as you walked backwards into your bedroom, returning the smile before letting Minho pull your door closed behind you and walking into his room as well. You fell asleep relatively easily, which you found amusing, seeing how often you were kept awake at night in the past, blush on your cheeks as your subconscious always led you to thinking of Minho.

Minho. You’d kissed Minho Lee that night.

Minho, on the other side of the wall, lay in bed with a dumb smile playing over his lips. You’d kissed him, more than once. God, the day he forgot how your lips felt pressed against his would be the day he died.

Despite the red dancing over his cheekbones, he fell asleep quite easy too.

The quicker I fall asleep, he thought, the quicker I’ll be able to see them again.

☇

That morning, you woke up with a bundle of nervous energy. It was 7:30, you decided to shower quickly and darted into the bathroom, avoiding any confrontation with Minho Lee just yet.

You walked out of the bathroom once you were done and dressed, only to walk into the kitchen to find Minseo and Minho sitting at your table eating granola and yoghurt.

Minho looked up at you and gave you a sly grin before looking back down and shoving another spoonful of the granola into his mouth. Charming.

“It’s eight ten guys,” your dad said as he walked out from the kitchen, passing you a slice of vegemite toast to eat on your way. “You should get going.”

“Sho’fink!” Minho said, voice muffled as he shovelled a few last spoonfuls of food into his mouth before standing up and hugging his own mum from over her chair.

“Later, ma!” He fare-welled her before gripping his backpack and swinging it over his shoulder, walking down the entrance hall and out the front door before you could even catch up.

“See you this afternoon!” You called into the vague area of the kitchen, hurrying to the front door to reach Minho before he got too far.

Once you caught up with him, it was pretty much silent. You didn’t want to bring up the happenings of last night but it seemed he didn’t want to either and now you were both stuck whilst reluctantly thinking up game plans on how exactly to bring it up. A huff sounded from next to you and you looked towards Minho, he walked beside you whilst absentmindedly kicking some stones on the pathway. He looked really fucking pretty, it was sort of unfair. His hair was a bit of a mess, probably your fault for hogging the bathroom that morning but you didn’t care because the little flicks in every direction just looked so freakishly adorable you were actually scared of what it was doing to your heart.

“You don’t get to stare at me,” he suddenly spoke, snapping you out of your reverie. “It’s making me nervous.”

Quickly, you snapped your eyes towards the ground and sped up your pace a little bit. Minho didn’t need to know you stared at him but now he certainly did and it wasn’t fair. It was even more unfair when he laughed from your side and you felt a hand gripping onto yours loosely.

Oh. Minho was holding your hand. Minho was holding your hand as you walked to school together. Hand. Minho. Minho’s hand wrapped around yours. God, what the fuck was happening?

You were blushing so hard, the feeling of whatever Minho had induced inside of you had come crashing so fast and so thick that your head rushed and you suddenly felt light-headed. You couldn’t even look at the boy, he probably had some kind of shit-eating grin and teasing eyes. Minho felt lucky you weren’t going to look at him, very lucky indeed.

His stomach was erupting with nerves, was this okay? Was he holding your hand right? Was his hand sweaty? Did you mind it? The questions flowed freely through his head and his head pounded in his chest. God, why did this have to make him so tense.

You on the other hand had only just managed to pick up the courage to tighten your grip in return to Minho’s hand in yours, giving it just the slightest squeeze. Minho felt a million times better after that.

You said nothing else on the walk, simply awkwardly looking around as the morning sun peeked through the blooming trees. The both of you didn’t want to let go, but finally dropped each other’s hands upon dawdling through the gate, Minho letting you go to your friends. His hand felt warm still, and he loved the feeling, watching you as you turned a corner into the area in which your group hung out. Jesus, he liked you so much it was incredible.

You held hands on the way home too, this time you snatching his hand as you left the school. He smiled at you and said hello before re-adjusting your fingers to fit them between his own. At times, he’d notice his grip had loosened whilst he paid attention to the story you were telling of your sub from your earth and environmental class, when he noticed this he tightened his fingertips onto the back of your hand with a firm embrace.

He thought, with a smile, that he could hold your hand forever.

☇

It had been, officially, three days since you’d kissed Minho, and he’d responded largely in your favour.

You hadn’t kissed since; though you’d wanted to, but the amount of affection in whatever relationship you shared had multiplied greatly. You believed even your mum had noticed the shift in your attitude around each other, catching her moving to whisper into Minseo’s ear whenever Minho decided to give you a heart attack and do something simple like fixing your collar before your walk to school. Maybe it wasn’t just you that had caught the tender look in Minho’s eyes when he did so.

Today, a Wednesday, the boy that was living in your house had been particularly clingy. Your mum hadn’t mentioned it to you, but you saw the meanings behind her amused pointed looks when Minho, instead of asking you to move like a normal person, brought his hands up to gently grasp your middle and shift you softly to one side. You’d grown accustomed to his little ways of showing affection, like the way he ensured his leg was bouncing up next to yours when you sat down next to each other on the couch, as if he was assuring you he was there. Or even the way he made sure to supply you with whatever you needed, like when you asked for a pen and he gripped your hand and spread your palm open himself before putting the damned thing in it. Honestly, just hand the pen over, Minho.

Anyway, you were up in your room, sitting cross-legged in your bed, studying for an upcoming French test with Minho (who insisted on helping) sitting in front of you with flash cards.

“I don’t want to do this,” he groaned, tipping back his head in dissatisfaction. “You’ve got all of them right, anyway!”

You rolled your eyes, taking the flash cards from his hands. “I told you, you don’t have to help me!”

“But I want to help you!”

“You literally just said ‘I don’t want to do this’.”

“Yeah, because this is boring!”

You shook your head at the boy in front of you before dropping your head down to shuffle through the cards again. “You’re incredibly dumb, Minho Lee, you know th—?”

Minho leaned forward and placed his hands onto your knees, fingers spreading over them before you felt the press of his lips against the crown of your head.

He sort of lingered there for a while before pulling back and sitting comfortably again. You slowly raised your head and met his eyes, they were cute and crinkled as his cheeks rose with his giddy smile.

“Let’s talk for a while,” he offered, already closing your French book. “You’re gonna ace that test anyway.”

You nodded dumbly, still slightly dazed at his genuinely fond action. Gripping onto your workbook, you reached back and placed it onto your bedside table along with your pencil case and badly shuffled flash cards. Once you turned back, Minho was already beside you and leaning back on your pillows.

“Tell me about your day?” He asked, shifting down a bit lower so he was more comfortable but looking at you nonetheless, neck probably craning uncomfortably at the angle.

You mirrored him, scooching down lower so your shoulders were pressed together. “Nothing much happened really. You know that Jamie Nyombe kid?”

Minho nodded, picking up your hand and pulling it back onto his chest to fiddle with your fingers.

“Well he choked really bad on his choccy milk and started crying, it was really funny.” You smiled, remembering how he choked from laughing at another friend’s joke. “But that’s about it, how about yours?”

“Hm,” Minho started, ignoring the shiver that went through your spine as he played with your fingers. “I don’t do much at school. I just sat there and missed you, then came home.”

You couldn’t help the blush that spread over your cheeks, what exactly was it with Minho being so uncharacteristically bold today? “Missed me, huh?”

Minho giggles a bit, chest moving underneath your hand. “Yeah, and my mum too.”

You thought back to earlier that day when Minho and his mum had sat in the loungeroom alone, talking about something that spread tension throughout the whole house and no one else dared to interfere with. There was no yelling or anything of that sort, just a lingering feeling of a serious conversation.

“How is your mum? You guys talked for a while this afternoon.” You questioned, bringing the topic up softly.

“Oh, she’s fine. We were just talking about her ex girlfriend.” He grumbled with a little sigh. “She’s a real annoying twat, that woman.”

Your eyebrows raised at his sudden hostile language. “How so?”

“She left me ‘n’ my mum because she couldn’t handle with mum being blind,” you couldn’t see it, but you felt his eye-roll. “The bitch still thinks she’s entitled enough to be my mother because her millionaire ass pays for most my stuff.”

You didn’t really know how to respond, instead processing the information because you knew Minho would continue anyway.

“I mean, I don’t object it because free stuff is free stuff, and mum can’t work so it’s nice getting some extra cash here and there.” He explained, ceasing playing with your fingers for a moment before continuing. “But she’s paying for the renovations for the house and wants us to stay with her until they’re finished. Says ‘It’s the least she can do’. Like, fuck off.”

He continued on, rambling and rambling about this lady you’d never even seen before. In the back of your mind you registered how the rest of the town thought Minho had a father and not a second mum, who wasn’t even his mum at this point, but that thought quickly dispersed once Minho finished talking.

“Fuck. That was a lot,” he turned his head to yours which was facing the ceiling, eyes closed in relaxation. “I’ve never talked about her to anyone before.”

You smiled, opening your eyes. “She sounds like a real bitch, so I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah, me too.” Minho let out softly before speaking louder in realisation. “Shit, you’ve got your exam tomorrow. You should get some sleep!”

Before you could even protest he was climbing out of your bed like a child on Christmas, stretching his arms a little before turning to you and muttering a quiet goodnight and turning to leave. You climbed out of bed too, quickly gripping at Minho’s wrist before he left.

“Wait!” You said, tugging him back so he was in front of you and leaning towards him. You shakily pressed a kiss to his forehead, mind swimming with nice feelings for the black haired boy. “Thank you for helping me study and talking to me.”

Once you pulled back, Minho smiled softly before backtracking out of the door.

“Nigh-night, Y/N.”

“Night, Minho.”

☇

Three weeks. Three whole weeks of tiptoeing around the house and holding hands on your way to school. God, had you tried so hard to kiss Minho again. The times he noticed you leaning in he’d pull back slightly and smile teasingly at your expression. You’d think he didn’t want to kiss you, didn’t like you back or something-or-other but he’d always lean back towards you to peck anywhere on your face that wasn’t your lips.

You figured you could survive, but then suddenly Minho was packing up and leaving your house to return to his own, and you realised you’d see him less and less and god, just fucking kiss me Minho Lee!

“I’ll grab you in the morning,” he said as you walked out of his front door after helping him carry the last things over. “You’d better be ready for school.”

You nodded, it was your last week of classes for the term and you’d realised he wouldn’t walk you to and from school for a whole two weeks. You felt really worried about how little you guys might see each other, as you’d grown so accustomed to his presence and absent minded touches.

In the morning, you were ready earlier than usual and even opted out on meeting Minho halfway. You saw him as he walked up to where the paths forked into one and waved.

“Miss me that much, huh?” He’d teased, already naturally linking his fingers with yours.

It was normal now, walking to school like this. Your friends often made fun of you for your relationship (whatever that relationship might be) with Minho Lee, mocking the way you blushed when he grabbed your hand at the gate at the end of the day. Minho promised to come meet your friends soon, and it oddly felt like introducing your boyfriend to your parents though Minho wasn’t your boyfriend and your friends certainly weren’t your parents.

“Wanna come study with me today?” Minho asked once you could see the towering buildings of the school in the distance.

“I thought I was too much of a distraction?” You retorted, squeezing your fingers against his.

Minho laughed slightly, bringing his other hand up to adjust his bag strap on his shoulder. “Yeah, but I can make an exception today.”

☇

So here you sat, in the library next to a Minho Lee that insisted you take the seat by him unlike last time. You sat highlighting a booklet on how Guangzhou, China became so overpopulated since 1991 whilst Minho sat next to you, typing away on his laptop.

You didn’t notice the way his tapping on keys had stopped since five minutes ago and his body had slightly shifted towards yours. He knew he wasn’t going to get anything done while you were sitting next to him, it was inevitable.

He figured, now’s a better time than any. A better time than any to finally do it, to finally ask you out and kiss you like you’ve wanted to. He didn’t even register at this point that he was in a library when he took the highlighter out of your hand and placed the cap onto it before putting it on the desk in front of you.

You looked up at him, confused as to what the fuck he thought he was doing. That was when he brought his hands to your jaw and you knew. Holy shit, he was actually going to kiss y—.

God, fuck, every other word of expression that could possibly be used to describe the feeling of Minho leaning in and attaching his lips with yours. What the fuck? Since when was he actually good at this? What flavour lip balm was he even wearing? Did he care about how you only had papaw?

Too quickly was he pulling away, did you even kiss back properly? It was all a bit too much to handle for you for the 7 whole seconds he’d pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered open and you were sure you were blushing, it’s not like you had time to prepare yourself.

“I wanna be your boyfriend.”

Fuck, you had definitely not prepared yourself, you were an absolute mess and your fingers curled around the hands that were on your cheeks. You couldn’t help but smile, and that set Minho’s heartbeat at ease.

You nodded, “Okay, Mr Boyfriend.”

He smiled back at you, nerves no longer thrashing through him and heart pounding because of something entirely different now. It was official, god, his mum was gonna be so fucking happy.

“Really?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“Hm,” you fauxed a look of contemplation. “If you let me kiss you again, then it’s a maybe.”

He laughed, looking down in disbelief before raising his head again and nodding, already leaning forward to make it easier for you.

“Hey, as nice as it is you’ve found a friend,” you both pulled apart, shocked at the loud voice and looking for its source. “There’s absolutely no kissing in the library, Minho.”

The librarian stood at a shelf nearby, raising her eyebrows at you both before walking off with some books in her hand.

“What a cockblock.” He grumbled, sitting back in his seat in disappointment.

Though, you made up for it. You kissed him on your way home, at the beach many times when feeding the penguins, up at the lighthouse where you remembered your first and even down at your front door before you could let him leave.

Minho liked it, having a friend. But he liked even more having someone to kiss and hold hands with, and someone that he just wanted constantly to give tender touches to. You liked it too, he could tell, and that made him glad.

No one really knows the boy that mans the lighthouse on your bay, no one except you. And you were never ever going to forget the storm that brought the two of you together. The storm that brought you Minho.

☇

(“You know, I used to watch you feed the penguins before we met.”

“I know, you’re terrible at hiding.”

“What the fuck? You knew I was practically a creep this whole time?”

“What? You mean you weren’t just watching the penguins?”

“Forget I said that.”)

☇

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