~ 𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕒 ~ (Minsung)

🔒Chapter 6 - Bandages🔒

3 WEEKS LATER

3rd person POV:

It had been nearly a month since Jisung invited Minho to live with him, and though their conversations were scarce, he didn’t regret the decision one bit. Minho was reserved, almost painfully so, but there was a quiet understanding between them that didn’t require constant chatter.

Today had been long for Jisung. After running errands, he trudged through the front door, dropping his bags onto the floor before collapsing onto the couch. The living room was silent, an almost eerie calm settling over the house.

Jisung stared at the ceiling for a moment, gathering the energy to move. Eventually, he pushed himself up, deciding that a hot shower and a day of movies on the couch were exactly what he needed. He picked up the bags, carrying some to the kitchen and the rest to his room.

As he moved around the house, he noticed the absence of Minho. Usually, Minho would be on the couch or curled up with a book in the corner of the living room. It was odd not to see him there.

After putting everything away, Jisung knocked on Minho’s bedroom door out of curiosity. There was no answer.

He frowned, but reasoned Minho might be in the restroom. Shrugging it off, Jisung went back to his room, took a quick shower, and changed into comfortable clothes. He was ready for his movie marathon, but something tugged at him—a nagging feeling.

Before heading downstairs, Jisung turned back and approached Minho’s door again. He knocked softly, then a little louder when there was no response.

“I’m coming in,” he called before opening the door.

The room was neat as usual, but empty. However, the light under the restroom door caught his attention.

“Hey, you okay in there?” Jisung asked, knocking gently. “You’ve been in there a while.”

There was a pause before Minho’s voice, soft and shaky, came through the door. “Y-yeah.”

Jisung hesitated. Something about the way Minho spoke didn’t sit right with him. “Alright… I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

He started to leave but stopped when Minho’s voice broke the silence.

“Wait!”

Jisung turned back, concern creeping into his tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh… can you maybe… help me?” Minho’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with nerves.

“Of course. What do you need?”

There was a pause. “I… I’m struggling with my bandages. Could you help?”

Jisung’s chest tightened. “Yeah, of course. Just unlock the door and sit on the bed. I’ll be right there.”

A minute later, the door clicked open, and Minho stepped out, dressed in sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. He looked nervous—his fingers twisting together as his eyes darted around the room.

Jisung offered a warm smile. “Go sit. I’ll grab what we need.”

He entered the restroom and found the supplies scattered beside the sink. Grabbing them, he returned to find Minho perched on the edge of the bed, his shoulders tense.