What does the ocean look like? - 2min [1/3]
What does the ocean look like? | 2min | pg - 13 | 6000+ [14.000+ the whole fic]
au, angst, drama, romance | beta-ed by forevershining | character death, incest (they are not related by blood)
note: Okay so this is my first long fic ever!!!! Written for tj's kpop_bigbang a big thank you to forevershining for beta-ing it and to M. and J. for helping me with the plot and the general idea of this fic. It took quite some time to write it (cause I'm really slow at writing -.-") and I hope you guys will like it.
What does the ocean look like?
Choi Minho secured the big, black sunglasses on his nose and put his favourite cap on. He buried his face in a big, warm, grey scarf, checking if he was unrecognizable enough and then opened the car-door, swiftly taking a look around, discretely enough not to appear suspicious. Everything was clear.
He slammed the door shut, pressed the green button on his car-keys, the vehicle before him beeping softly, its lamps enlightening one last short time.
He tugged on his jacket, threw his backpack over his shoulder and quickly, but in no way rushed, as he walked over to the big apartment complex.
He entered through big glass doors, a security man nodding at him as he passed him and walked over to the elevators.
The doors opened with a soft ‘bing’ and he entered, the red walls and mirrors decorated elevator. He pressed the button for the 9th floor; leaning against one of the mirror-walls, trying his best to ignore his reflection and to surpass the urge to fix a strand of hair that was not where it belonged. Without tons of make-up on his face, the traces of stress and sleep deprivation were visible. He felt his phone vibrating in his pants pockets and took it out, sighing when he saw the number blinking on the display, but answering the call anyway.
“How does Korea’s greatest idol feel today?” the voice chimed happily and loudly, Minho holding the mobile away.
“Hyung don’t be so loud! I’m fine. How are you?”
“Doing great. I just finished writing another song. We’ll discuss the whole thing in a month, use that time to rest Minho, you sound tired.”
“Hm I’ll do that Jjong, you too. I’m already really excited what kind of masterpiece you composed now, see ya.” He ended the call, snapping his phone shut and growled. Another song. That meant weeks of practicing, months of hard work, sleepless nights, crazy fans and everything a new single brought along with it.
The elevator’s door opened with a ‘bing’ and Minho stepped out, taking off his cap and the sunglasses, feeling at ease in the suave hallways of the overly guarded apartment-complex.
He rubbed his sleep deprived eyes and fished the keys out of his pocket.
He walked through the long empty hallway towards his apartment but stopped in his tracks when he saw something near his door.
A boy wearing bib overalls and a patterned shirt was sitting right in front of his door.
He was thin and lanky, light brown hair covering his face. He seemed to be sleeping, soft evened breaths leaving his mouth, his chest heaving lightly. He half leaned against Minho’s door and half against an old, blue bag lying next to him.
Minho stood there, staring at the boy in awe. He should have been shocked or scared, considering that he was Korea’s most beloved man and this boy could be some creepy stalker, but he wasn’t; he was admiring the way the boy managed to look so peaceful, at ease, innocent, even a little bit angelic as he only sat there sleeping right in front of a stranger’s door.
Minho kneeled down, supporting his weak body with one hand as he continued staring at the boy. He could now see the boy’s face a little bit clearer. He had smooth, pale skin, full lips and a small nose, his eyes were mostly covered with bangs, but Minho would bet his life on them being, round and sparkling. The boy was beautiful, cute and if Minho hadn’t had a clear look of the boy’s body before, he could have mistaken him for a girl.
Minho caught himself fantasizing about how soft the boy’s skin would feel and he felt a sudden itch to touch his face. But he didn’t do it and instead coughed loudly, hoping that it would be enough to wake the small figure up. But it wasn’t, and Minho sighed, placing his backpack on the ground and using both hands to softly shake the boy awake.
“Hey! Wake up!” he whispered, feeling the boy’s thin shoulders fragile and cold under his big hands. The boy frowned, grumbling something before cracking his eyes open, slowly looking at Minho and Minho had been right about the boy’s eyes. They were brown and big and curious and had a certain naïve, pure sparkle to them.
The boy rubbed his eyes, yawning loudly before blinking at the man standing in front of him. He then stood up, stretching himself. He looked at Minho and smiled, a smile that was bright and nice and sincere, a smile Minho had long ago forgotten how to do.
“Are you Choi Minho?” he asked, his voice as light and refreshing as his whole appearance, and Minho just nodded dumbly. “Good, I have something for you.” He said, taking his bag and rummaging through it, pouting when he didn’t find what he was looking for and immediately brightening up again when he seemed to remember where he had put the item. He stuck his hands deep into his overalls’ pocket, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he tried his best to get it out of the seemingly small pocket.
When he finally managed to fish a small piece of paper out, he grinned and handed it to Minho, who had been watching the boy with a smile playing on his lips.
Minho took the letter, opening it and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the familiar handwriting. He quickly scanned the words written on the piece of paper and looked up again, his expression blank, the boy nervously biting on his lips, blinking at him.
“You are Lee Taemin?”
***
Lee Taemin, the always smiling, happy, innocent, young, lively, pure and annoyingly curious boy -- according to Minho’s first impression of him, was Minho’s dead sister’s adoptive son. Minho had been informed about his sister’s death a few days ago.
He hadn’t seen her in ages, though she had been his only family left. He was drowning in work and they never had been close, growing up in two different households. He didn’t shed a single tear when he heard about her death, neither did he attend her funeral or could say that he cared about the whole incident. He shrugged it off and continued living his life.
It was not like he hated her or something, no, he even considered her to be a really nice person with a hart-warming smile and a big heart; it was just that he didn’t have anything to do with her. She had been eleven years older than him and he hadn’t seen her for at least six years but as far as he could remember, she was the kind of woman that would pick a kid from the road up and adopt it without having a second thought about it, and so the fact that she in fact had adopted someone was not surprising.
It had been her last wish for Minho to take care of Taemin, since he was the only ‘family’ left.
Minho wouldn’t have had a problem with this if he had been properly informed about the situation and if he weren’t Korea’s most popular and therefore most busy idol.
So, Minho had a problem with the situation, because honestly he himself was still a kid, and taking care of someone of whom he would presume could set the whole apartment, if not the whole building on fire, trying to find out what those funnily red shining knobs on Minho’s stove were was just too much to ask of him.
He had a problem with Taemin being extremely clingy and with him being so curious and with himself feeling a dangerous amount of attraction towards the beautiful boy. Still, as much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t bring it over his heart to throw the boy out.
Taemin entered the apartment, nearly jumping in excitement, squealing like all those fangirls always did. Minho was still a bit out of it, because honestly, who would have expected the boy to suddenly hug him tightly when he allowed him to enter the apartment?
Anyway, Taemin was already running through the apartment, touching everything, asking random questions about everything and giggling like a love struck teenage girl. His eyes were sparkling, sometimes wide in wonder and sometimes formed to half-moons, as he was smiling this wonderfully bright smile of his.
He seemed to be amazed by Minho’s -admittedly- great apartment.
When Minho snapped back to reality, forcing himself to forget the warmness of that hug, Taemin was, like the elder had expected him to, fiddling with the stove’s knobs, chuckling at the strange sounds coming from the machine. Minho ran into the kitchen, stopping the boy from turning the forth plate on and turning the others off and he glared at the boy who seemed to be oblivious to Minho’s tiredness and bad mood. Taemin ran away again and Minho cursed under his breath, running after him. He grabbed him by his wrists, stopping the boy from drowning the bathroom in toilet water.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, ignoring the way Taemin’s eyes widened in shock.
“Don’t you have any manners? I’ll give you some things to sleep and five minutes in this bathroom and then you go to sleep and I don’t want to hear a single sound coming from you for the next twelve hours. Okay?!”
Taemin nodded, his eyes a little bit watery. Minho was too tired to care about the pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach and lead Taemin to his guestroom, giving him towels, pyjamas, toothbrush and everything else someone needed for sleeping before turning around and walking away. He slammed his bedroom’s door shut and sighed.
Of course he saw the big, shining tears falling out of the boy’s eyes and heard Taemin’s sobs, but he was just so tired, too fucking tired to care about anything.
***
Minho woke up, surrounded by the calming smell of candies and a comforting warmth on his back. He let out a sound of appreciation, snuggling closer to the warmth. He turned around, rubbing his eyes and yawning only to be faced with Taemin grinning at him as soon as he opened his eyes. Minho nearly fell out of his bed, cursing loudly as he climbed out, walking around and calming his nerves.
He had completely forgotten about Taemin, and a flood of worries drowned his brain. Should he hide Taemin? How can he take care of him? Does Taemin go to school? Will he ever have peace when he has this…this kid around? He cursed once again, throwing a pillow around, his face red with rage.
“Minho hyung?” the boy interrupted Minho in his fit of anger, looking at the older man with curious eyes, no hint of fear evident in them.
“What?” Minho shouted, clenching his fists.
“Uhm, why do people snore?”
Minho groaned out loudly; he wanted to hit his head against a wall or something, but he didn’t and instead he let himself fall back to bed, burying his head in a pillow. He screamed into it for about as long as he could and then faced Taemin again. The boy was patiently waiting for an answer, not questioning Minho’s weird behaviour.
“I don’t really know, it has something to do with breathing and the palatal I think.” He answered honestly, surprised with himself. The boy nodded, his eyes wide and he looked as if he was a little kid that had been told the world’s secrets. “Why do you ask?”
Taemin shrugged. “You snored and it made me curious.”
Minho stared at the boy in shock before squeaking: “I do not snore!”
Taemin giggled and stood up, his brown hair shining in the light of the morning. “You’re funny Minho hyung.” He said, smiling brightly. “And you don’t have to worry, everything will be alright okay?” he rubbed his eyes and bit his lip. Minho groaned and buried his face in the pillow. They spent a few minutes in silence, Minho listening to the silence and Taemin watching Minho intensely.
“Uhm, Minho-hyung?”
“Hm?”
“Can I sleep next to you?” Minho looked up, raising an eyebrow at the boy who was nervously fumbling with his shirt.
“I-I can’t sleep when I’m alone and I’m tired now because I didn’t sleep this night and I don’t want to be a bother but-“ Minho sighed and shuffled to the side, making place for Taemin in his bed. “It’s okay, just be quiet and sleep.” The boy looked relieved, nodding, his hair bouncing with the movement and climbed back into the bed.
“What time is it anyway?” Minho mumbled.
“Uhm around 6 am.” And Minho groaned again, deciding that he needed some more sleep and turning to his side, his back facing Taemin who shuffled closer to him.
Minho was once again surrounded by the sweet smell of candies and Taemin’s calming warmth on his back made him quickly float to his land of dreams.
***
Taemin was a strange kid.
It was not his extremely childish and naïve behaviour that Minho found strange. It was not the fact that he was all happy going at day and would secretly cry his heart out at night that Minho found strange. It was not the fact that he seemed to know nothing, absolutely nothing about real life, about machinery and about society. It was that absent, dark and knowing look he would sometimes get, in a moment of silence or when he woke up in the morning that made him strange. When he had this look in his eyes, Minho would always get the shivers because it was creepy, extremely creepy. It was as if Taemin was someone else, a different person, the complete opposite of his usual self. But Minho didn’t question it, his situation or the boy. He was too tired, too absorbed in his work and too uninterested to do so.
As much as Taemin was a strange kid, Minho liked him, he did. Okay, the boy was annoying and too curious for his own good and a little bit too happy for a normal human, but Minho liked him. He liked the way Taemin would ask questions over question, eager to learn, he liked the way how the boy’s eyes sparkled whenever he would do something right or when Minho would praise him; he liked the way Taemin always seemed to know what Minho needed, what he was worrying about, and how he would always cheer the man up. He liked the way he was so innocent, so untainted.
It had only been two days but Minho felt as if he knew Taemin for much longer, and he appreciated the boy’s presence, he really did.
Taemin was sitting on his sofa, watching TV with an amusing expression of wonder when Minho entered the apartment. “I’m home.” He said, taking place beside the boy who seemed to be watching ‘boys over flowers’, a series Minho had done a title song for.
“Taemin?” Minho asked, irritated by the way the younger boy was ignoring him.
“Tae?” no answer.
“Lee Taemin!” Minho shouted into the boy’s right ear, earning a low cry from him.
“Ow! Minho that hurt!” Minho laughed it off, taking his shoes off. He looked up, meeting Taemin’s expectant gaze.
“What?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, Tae.” The boy nodded, before fumbling with one of his brown locks.
“Uhm…. Why do people kiss, hyung?” he mumbled and Minho sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and biting his lip.
“Kissing…. Kissing is something to express your feelings with. When you like someone a lot or when you love that person you kiss him or her. It is something you do with just one special person. You kiss to tell this person that you like him or her without having to use words.”
Minho was not really sure if his explanation was right, but he tried his best and Taemin nodded in understanding, while his mouth formed an ‘O’.
Minho stood up and walked to the kitchen, taking out a glass and filling it with water.
“Tae do you want to drink something?” he shouted and nearly let the glass fall to the ground when he found Taemin standing beside him. He was looking at him and he looked at him in that strange, dark and absent way again and Minho couldn’t help the goose bumps.
“So if I have someone special I can kiss that person?” Taemin asked, his head slightly tilting to the right. Minho nodded, gulping the tight knot down. Taemin looked at him for a while longer and then smiled sweetly, his eyes forming into half-moons. “I don’t want to drink anything, thanks.” He said and walked to his own bedroom.
***
Minho noticed that Taemin was a little bit more fragile and a little bit weaker than normal teenagers are. He was thin and pale and sometimes he would just lose his balance and fall to the ground.Luckily, Minho could prevent that from happening most times, but still, it was worrisome. Taemin dismissed Minho’s questioning with a shrug and avoided it at any cost. Minho felt as if Taemin’s happy, innocent attitude was hiding something, that it was a mask, covering something deep and important up and he felt betrayed, since the other didn’t trust him enough to tell him about it. But Minho ignored this thought and the feeling of hurt sticking to his heart like a noisy bitch, because if he didn’t, it would lead to Minho being grumpy and that would lead to Taemin being frustrated and that would lead to a bad atmosphere and that was not what Minho wanted.
Minho wanted to get along with the boy, wanted to enjoy his happiness that seemed to affect Minho’s mood too and he wanted to enjoy the feeling of being young again; because he was young, he could just never enjoy it because of his work.
They were doing one of their movie nights, that they, to be honest, did every night and they sat on Minho’s big couch, enjoying the movie in comfortable silence when Taemin decided to ask something he wanted to ask for a while now.
“Minho?”
“Hm?”
“What does the ocean look like?” he looked at Minho, curiously biting his lips.
“You don’t know?” Minho raised an eyebrow. Taemin might not know a lot, but Minho would have expected everyone to know how the ocean looks, even if it was only through TV.
“Hm, it is big and blue, but sometimes also greenish. There many different types of oceans and beaches and it can be ugly and disgusting but also unbelievingly beautiful. It’s hard to describe.” Taemin nodded, but didn’t do his usual ‘O’, instead he looked on the TV but obviously not watching the commercial, his gaze dark, absent and strange again. Minho could have sworn that he saw some kind of sadness.
The next day, Minho pulled the white blanket off Taemin, the boy groaning loudly in disapproval. “Wake up sleepy head, I have something for you.” And in a few seconds, Taemin was up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Minho laughed. “Put some clothes on and let’s go.” He said, grinning wildly at the boy who looked mildly confused, but complied.
A few minutes later, Taemin was wearing a shirt pants and a t-shirt, sandals and sunglasses that Minho recognized as his own. He stood in the doorway expectantly looking at Minho, who was just grinning at him. “Close your eyes.” Taemin obeyed, frowning as he did.
When he put the black cloth over the boy’s eyes, Taemin flinched a little, but relaxed when Minho reassured him that it was just a cloth, because he didn’t want him to see his surprise yet. Taemin smiled, grabbing Minho’s hand as the elder lead him out of the apartment, down to his car. Taemin was trembling with anticipation Minho assumed, and he gently led Teamin into his car, shutting the door behind him before entering on the other side.
“It will take a while, but don’t be scared, try to sleep or something.” Minho said, squeezing Taemin’s small hand. The other nodded, but he looked nervous, frightened.
“What’s wrong?” Minho’s voice echoed through the car.
“N-nothing I’m just scared of the dark.” He whispered, his voice trembling as cold sweat ran down his neck. No, he was not just scared of the dark, he was obviously frightened and Minho was quick to pull the cloth of, rubbing the boy’s back to comfort him.
“I’m sorry Tae, I didn’t know. I didn’t want to scare you okay?” Taemin nodded, his eyes still wide with fear. “It’s okay hyung, I’ll just close my eyes okay?” Minho nodded.
They arrived exactly one hour and forty-three minutes later and Minho shook Taemin lightly, the sleeping boy muttering some not understandable words before cracking his eyes open.
“We arrived.” He whispered, observing Taemin’s face closely.
At first he was confused, looking around, frowning. Then realization hit him and his eyes brightened up, and he looked at Minho and then back to the big blue ocean before him. He bit his lip and smiled and then he curled his lip and smiled again. His eyes watered and soon, big round tears were falling out of them, sounds of sobs and laughter leaving his lips as his body shook with excitement, happiness and something else. It was not the reaction Minho had expected, and he was moved by the way Taemin was just overflowed with feelings, real feelings, and Minho’s heart swelled; he was smiling brightly at the boy, patting his back. He knew that there was something, that it wasn’t normal to react this way even if it was your first time seeing the sea, but he didn’t question it; he just accepted it, letting the boy slowly open up to him.
Taemin stepped out of the car, the cool ocean breeze hitting his face, drying his tears off. He smiled; he looked peaceful and sincerely happy, and Minho took his hand, guiding him to the beach.
“Aaahh- it feels so nice~” Taemin was jumping through the beach, the feeling of sand on his bare feet new and so great. He was spinning around, laughing, singing, dancing and the sight was endearing, heart warming and beautiful, Taemin’s pale skin shining in the hot sunrays. Finally, he let himself slump to the ground, panting and giggling at the same time. He looked up at Minho who was smiling at him and giggled again, rolling through the sand, not caring about getting dirty, just enjoying the moment, the feeling.
Minho stood up, picking the light boy up and dusting the dirt away before grinning at the smaller boy.
“I have something else to show you.” He said and took Taemin’s hands again, the warmness of the touch having something extremely addicting.
Minho guided Taemin through leaves and bushes, over rocks and dusted paths and the younger boy was a panting mess when they finally arrived at the desired spot.
Taemin was standing there, the wind making his hair flutter and he just stood there, watching the sky watching the ocean. And then he extended his arms, raising his head to the sky and letting out a sharp breath. “Thank you.” He whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheeks. “Thank you.” And Minho knew that those words had a deep meaning; he knew that Taemin was not only thanking him for this trip and Minho smiled, taking in the sight in front of him, remembering it forever.
***
Taemin liked asking questions.
Questions from ‘why are bananas crooked’ to ‘what is music’, he wanted to know everything and wouldn’t let go until he got his answers. It were those kind of questions 4 year olds asked, but not an eighteen year old boy, though they were not easy to answer. The fact that he asked those questions out of pure curiosity and because he honestly didn’t know, was something that strangely matched with his whole character. It was the way he seemed so young, so innocent and so naïve, indeed like a four year old, that made Minho feel so extremely attached to him. It was annoying and irritating, but Minho still always tried his best to answer the questions because he just couldn’t help it. But sometimes Taemin’s questions really threw the elder off.
It was the first night Minho decided to cook something for Taemin. He had been too tired and stressed to do so before and so they had been ending up with ordering pizza or noodles or some other food from restaurants for a whole week. He finally felt relaxed enough to spend his time on other things than sleeping, watching TV or answering Taemin’s questions and he really, really had tried his best, but still he ended up giving Taemin burned meat and hart potatoes as dinner. They sat on the dinning table, Taemin was unusually quiet, playing with his food and eating a lot less than normally, but he didn’t complain. “You don’t have to eat this. I know it tastes like shit.” Minho admitted, forcing a dry piece of meat down his throat. Taemin smiled at him. “It’s okay, I’m used to it. Mom was also bad at cooking.” He mumbled, talking more to the food than to Minho. “Mom…” Minho repeated. “What was she like? My sister. I haven’t seen her in ages.” Taemin looked up, his usually cheery self suddenly a lot quieter. “Protective.” He said, his eyes not meeting Minho’s. The elder nodded; he understood that it was a sensitive topic and that Taemin would have preferred not to talk about it.
Silence stretched and it was the first time Minho felt a little bit uncomfortable around Taemin.
“Hyung?”
“Hm?”
“What is death?” Taemin asked.
Minho looked up and was met by Taemin’s stare, his cold and absent stare.
“Uhm. It’s what people call it when someone doesn’t live anymore. It’s when life stopped for them.” Taemin nodded. “So Mom didn’t go on a trip?” he said, his eyes looking curious but still so knowing. “Is that what people told you?” Taemin nodded again. “A trip to heaven.” And Minho really felt the urge to roll his eyes, but didn’t. “When people die, when theeir life ends, they will never return. We humans try to reassure ourselves that everything is alright by saying that they’ll go to heaven and have a better life there. Whether you want to believe that or not is up to you.”
“Hm I’d like to believe in it, so I can believe that I won’t forget everything when I die. I won’t forget you and Mom didn’t forget me. And I’ll be able to meet her.” Minho nodded, smiling slightly. “Believe in that, Taeminnie.”
They spent a few moments in silence and when Taemin suddenly stood up, Minho flinched a little. “I’ll go sleep now. I’m tired.” he muttered, facing the ground as he walked to his own room. Minho sighed, before also standing up, the food forgotten as he made his way towards Taemin’s room.
He knocked. Once, twice and after the third time he just screwed all manners and barked into the room, blinking a little bit because of the sudden blackness and then making his way towards the big bed. In the low moonlight he could barely see the small body on the bed, wrapped in thick blankets. But he saw it and slowly made his way towards it, the bed shifting at his weight when he sat down on it, slowly crawling to the blanket-hill laying on it. He laid a hand on something that seemed to be Taemin’s shoulder, drawing circles on it as he carefully listened to the quiet sobbing coming from underneath. He tugged on the blanket on an end that seemed to be near Taemin’s head, slowly exposing his tousled hair, his neck and his shoulders. Taemin’s face was hidden behind his bangs, his sobs muffled by a pillow he was pressing against him. Minho sighed, his fingers gently brushing over the mess of hair and under it over the boy’s cheeks. They were wet and warm and smooth and Minho’s heart skipped a few beats as he was stroking the crying boy’s skin to sooth him.
“Sshh, Tae calm down. What’s wrong? Ssh.” He whispered near Taemin’s ear, hot breath tickling against it. Taemin’s thin body was shaking with sobs, small whimpers echoing through the dark room. Suddenly Taemin turned around, clutching Minho’s t-shirt and crying out loud into the elder’s chest, his tears soaking the cloth, but neither one cared and Minho just soothingly rubbed the boy’s back, whispering sweet nothings. “Mom. I miss her so much. I miss her so much and you, you are just so alike, the way you hug me the way you both are so calm...just everything! I miss her, Minho I want her back.” Taemin said between sobs.
Minho was shushing him and Taemin cried his heart out and seconds, minutes an hour passed and when Minho was on the verge of falling asleep, Taemin finally stopped, his body relaxing into the warmth of Minho’s hug, his eyes hurting because of tears.
‘Thank you hyung.’ was the last thing Taemin whispered before he fell asleep. Minho joined him in dreamland a few seconds later.
The next day, Minho took Taemin to his sister’s grave. When they arrived on the empty graveyard, Minho shuddered; it was cold and lonely and he felt as if the wind was whispering in his ears. Taemin lead the way to a simple, square tombstone. A wave of guilt washed over Minho as he looked at the simple stone, decorated with flowers and candles and letters. He bowed in respect and Taemin kneeled down, kissing the grave softly. He whispered a few things to the grave, as if talking to his mother. He thanked her, said he loves her and whispered something that wouldn’t leave Minho’s mind for the rest of the day:
“See you soon.”
When they walked back to Minho’s car, the elder let out a deep sigh, pushing a few strands of hair back.
“Seems like she was loved.” He said when they were sitting in the car and Taemin nodded as Minho started the engine.
“She was really kind and whole-hearted, many people loved her for that.” He whispered, his eyes fixed on the road.
Minho was randomly tapping rhythms on the steering wheel humming a sad melody and Taemin was just staring out of the window, probably lost in thought.
“You were not really close were you?” Taemin’s voice startled Minho a little and he stiffened for a moment, but quickly relaxed.
“We didn’t grow up together. When our parents divorced my father took me with him to Seoul while she stayed with my mother in our hometown. I was six and she was seventeen that time. After that we saw each other a few times, but we grew apart.”
Taemin looked at Minho, and the latter began feeling uncomfortable under the stare, shifting slightly.
“I wish you could have kept the contact, then I would have met you earlier.” The boy said, and his bright smile was back, the tense atmosphere suddenly gone.
next part.