𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 • ᵐⁱⁿˢᵘⁿᵍ

The Other World 8.2

Their bodies lay naked and tangled under the soft bed covers as they hold one another, staring up at the ceiling they'd covered in glow-in-the-dark stars. It was Minho's partners idea— a way to cure their home sickness. Hours spent making sure it looked as realistic as possible. Even arguing if a star being a millimetre off was that important. To Minho, not very so. However, to his partner it was a matter of life or death. Minho has heard the multiple stories of how his lover was a rebellious teenager, sneaking out at night to sit on the roof and gaze at the stars. Endless nights spent sleepless. Not a thought would go through their head. They'd just stare in awe, dreaming of what it's like on other worlds. What the world they live on looks like from above. If something out there questioned of their existence, as humans do of theirs. The vast unknown it what scares mankind, but yet, it's what causes the search for answers. It waters the growth of knowledge.
   
"...Do you believe in aliens?" Chan breaks the peaceful silence. It was a normal ritual for them— clutching onto the warmth and comfort of being close, as if their bodies are one under their synthetic solar system. Random thoughts blurted out as they came to mind.
   
"I... don't know." Minho answers unenthusiastically.
   
"How can you not know? It's a yes or no answer."
   
"It's much more than that." Minho argues back. "It's also asking if mermaids, unicorns, and even ghosts exist."
   
"And they do!" Chan pouts. "Not everything needs an scientific answer. Sometimes belief is all you need." The two lay in silence as they think of what to say next. Both view the world in different ways. One believes in a god, whereas the other doesn't.
   
"Think of it like this," Chan pulls Minho in tighter. "I can't explain my feelings of love towards you because I just do love you." Chan smiles as Minho rubs his head into Chan's chest, like a cat. The words 'I love you' don't always need to be said because there is belief in one another.

"I still don't know if I believe in aliens. I mean those portrayed in movies... though... something else has to out there— the universe is vast and ever growing."
   
"So you believe?" Chan lifts Minho's face up to look at one another.
   
Minho scoffs giving in. "I believe." He says before leaning in for a kiss.

    ☾☁︎︎☽

Believe

Minho no longer questions if he believes any more as he races out the basement. His legs fumbling up the old wooden staircase. His mind running faster than his legs could. All he wants right now is to get out of that house— the place that's meant to become his home. The villagers were right. He wasn't going to last long in that house. Everyone left eventually and now Minho knows why.

Pulling the front door and Minho goes to make a run for it as his foot catches on the door frame, causing him to fall to his knees. His palms lightly grazed to prevent his face from greeting the stone path. Regaining his footing, Minho's chest heaves up and down. A simple small cardboard box is pulling out his back jean pocket, inside sticks of tobacco and a lighter are hidden. He lights one on sticks hoping it'll burn away all his confusing. What he just saw was real, right?            

Right now the only thing Minho thinks of is fear. The fear that bubbles in the back of his throat, so thick and tangible that he almost chocks on it. Fear makes his fingers tremble violently so that he almost drops his cigarette. Fear makes him forget how to breathe. He has to force air into his lungs, close his eyes, and count to himself as he inhales and exhales. Fear makes him dizzy and nauseated, makes him want to vomit onto the grass surrounding his feet.