five.

125 12 22
                                    

Minho woke up in the morning, and as he did, the snow awoke with him. 

It fell in heavy sheets across the blurry horizon, burying the world and everything in it until the chill of the new-fallen whiteness reached even those buried deep under the covers of their beds, which included Minho in this case. 

He woke up with a start, chills encasing his body. Shivers danced their way down Minho's spine, sending jolts of shocking cold through his limbs, chilling his fingers and causing him to sink deeper into his fortress of warm solitude - aka, his bed.

A yawn escaped his lips, and he looked around his room lifelessly, random thoughts bouncing through his skull but not lingering long enough to become anything coherent.

And then he remembered.

He sat up suddenly, the memory of the screaming from last night finally making its grand appearance in his train of thought. He reached up and rubbed at his eyes with his fists, making an attempt to get rid of the tiredness that haunted him there as his eyes went from wandering around the room aimlessly to determinedly fixing themselves on the specific view of Jisung's bedroom window.

Minho's clock read 6:04 AM, so he almost didn't dare try to wake up his curious neighbor.

Almost being the key word.

Minho swung his legs off his bed, letting his bare feet land on the soft carpeted floor as he untangled himself from his blankets and dizzily stood up. He made his way over to his window and opened it quietly, taking note of the silence that clouded the early morning outside.

And then he threw his shoe.

The noise echoed off of the thick quietness in the air, making Minho wince, but still he waited with his window open in anticipation. And sure enough, just as he'd hoped, the blinds were hesitantly lifted and the glass was slowly pushed away until the window was open and a head peeked out of it, mirroring Minho's own position.

"Minho, it's really early," Jisung grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. Snowflakes danced down, brushing against his tired eyes and landing in his eyelashes, making Minho's cheek upturn a little. Minho's eyes trailed across the messy fluffy strands of hair sticking out in different directions on Jisung's head, but then his gaze landed on the boy's cheek, and he frowned.

"What happened?"

Jisung furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mea-" He stopped mid-sentence, gasping and bringing up a cupped hand to cover his cheek.

"What happened?" Minho repeated.

Jisung opened his mouth, then closed it again, then opened it, blinking slowly. "I... fell. Down the stairs." He suddenly nodded aggressively. "Yeah. Don't laugh at me. I was just walking and I didn't realize how far down the hallway I was, and suddenly I was at the stairs and I slipped on the first step and just fell, like, all the way down." The words left Jisung's mouth quickly, running a relay to reach Minho's ears.

Minho nodded, reminded of his own injuries from fighting as he looked at the bruise that peeked out from behind Jisung's hand. "That sucks. I'm sorry. You don't have to hide it, though."

Jisung gave a small nod, lowering his hand.

There was silence for a second, until suddenly Minho frowned.

"How the hell did you not realize where in the hallway you were?" he asked pointedly. "Were your eyes closed or something?"

This comment caused Jisung to frown even deeper than the lines on Minho's face. He sat there for a moment, his brow furrowed and his mouth open as if he wanted to say something but was too dumb-founded to do so.

the boy in the window {minsung} DISCONTINUEDWhere stories live. Discover now