2 》How Did You Get In My House?

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The bedsheets were mercilessly ripped off his body, a sharp voice announcing rather rudely, "Minho, get your lazy ass up!"

Damn it.

He swore underneath his breath, the chill from the room immediately hitting him in lieu of the once beautiful comforter coating him with warmth. The cold assaulting him down to the frigid bone, even with the massive sweater and sweats dwarfing his body in exchange of traditional pajamas to keep him safe from any of the goosebump inducing freeze of the unusually cold room. Too tired when the sun rises to care about throwing on a proper set of silky embroidery and ivory buttons. Fuck that shit. Sweats and sweaters were perfectly fine in the fall, an oversized shirt and joggers were fine in the summer, what more did a man need? What more, beside the comfort of the firm mattress supporting him up, cementing to him that he was alright to keep his eyes slotted close.

Minho curled up, bundling into a tight ball as the fuzzy intrusion of an animal occupied the other half of his pillow.

Five more minutes.

The curtains of his window were ripped open.

Sun flooded into the bedroom.

Minho choked out a pained groan, forcing himself to sit up as he grabbed the extra pillow next to him and chucked it wildly toward the infuriating light. Hoping his strength, the hurried throw, the impossible speed which he tossed it into the sunlight, it would be enough to defeat the sun. The bedroom pillow would miraculously be stuffed with an incredible chemical that could immediately extinguish the fire of the exploding sun. It would be an ice cube. Never melting, enough to cause the flames to dim. The pillow was another sun, another star, and if he threw it right into the bundle of energy, it would be able to kill it out entirely. It could be enough to save him and his poor eyes trying to adjust to being a living human in the daytime and not the resting corpse he actually was.

His desired target not hit. Not even close as he heard the pillow thump against the flooring and the cat which laid next to him scramble off the bed to attack the soft headrest.

The other continued to assault his ears with the question, "Are you coming with us to the bar?"

Minho didn't even bother opening his eyes, the familiarity of the voice causing more of his groans to fly from his lips. He rubbed at his closed eyelids, trying to ease the ache grinding them down with the heels of his palms, their own freezing touch doing nothing to assist him in waking. Nor falling back asleep. Neither of them, all solutions leaving him as another painful swarm of waking dizziness stabbed into his head. He peeped them open, staring at the other through the thin slit accustoming him to the over excessive light as he grunted, "How did you get in my house?"

"I picked the lock, obviously," the  answered easily, wandering around the room with the comforter dragging after him and the black cat trying to jump into the makeshift gurney. The intruder picked up the empty energy drink, tossing it into the wire trash bine off to the side of the room, seeming to do housemaid chores as he asked, "But, are you?"

"Why would I want to?"

"Come meet someone. Get laid. Get drunk. Get a lap dance. Get high. Get bread sticks. I don't know? You can't be holed up in your room forever."

"Felix," He signed softly in complaint.

The younger responded, body thrashing as if he was a worm on methamphetamine as he mocked him, "Minhhhhhhhhhoooooooo~"

"I don't like going out. You know why," He scoffed back, trying to flop back down on the mattress. Trying to disappear inside it's comfort despite well knowing it was some time in the afternoon, guessing by where the sun shined inside his room. And by the other fully dressed and ready to tackle the world. So what if his sleep schedule was more twisted than an overcooked spaghetti dish? He still collapsed back on the bed. Wishing it would devour his tired body whole, gobbling him up and turning him into a pathetic Minho soup. He'd probably taste good if he marinated in his own juices and turned into a liquid. Some mix of a ox tail and cream of broccoli, if that was even possible.

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