To be afraid of love, or to be afraid of trusting someone so completely?
Or, Minho is afraid to be loved and Jisung is terrified to trust anyone ever again. Somehow, they end up fixing each other in secret, until everything spills over and they can...
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•───•⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇ ⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇•───•
It was just a party.
Anxiety sprawls through the young male's stomach as he quietly listens to the thoughts screaming in his ears. Your friends will be there, you're not going to be alone.
He wasn't sure if the thought of sitting in a corner of an unfamiliar house with an unknown beverage in his hand while music blared through his intrusive thoughts was particularly the reason he was so anxious, but he walked on anyway. With his hands in his hoodie pocket, beanie covering his fadingly-dyed hair, a single black piercing hanging from his right ear. Han Jisung strode towards this party begrudgingly, airpods resting in the crevice of his ears with music blasting away his nasty thoughts.
It was a birthday party after all, one he needed to be present for not because he wanted to, but because he promised.
"Hannie, please," His best friend Felix pleaded, his soft expression milking Han's choice out of him.
"Okay, fine. I'll come to your party." Felix hugged him, smiling cheerfully, but he suddenly pulled away with a devious look smeared across his face.
"Minho will be there." Han's chest seized.
"Felix-"
"You can try to talk to him!"
"Having a crush on the hottest dancer in the school is embarrassing enough, Lix."
"Who knows," Felix starts, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe he likes you too."
The conversation holds Han's heart tight enough to let it sink into his stomach. He was anxious, but then again, he's always anxious.
Han met Minho in their advanced dance class in school four months ago. Minho was taller, lean, had an obsession with working out, but was also incredibly driven. Han had always thought he himself had practiced too much, staying in the dance studio well past curfew. But sometimes Minho would stay there with him wordlessly, practicing songs even Han didn't know.
Han admired his work ethic, but knew he was a perfectionist without even talking to him. Somehow, that admiration turned into a crush that was inescapable and he found his heart fluttering one day when he saw Minho in the studio sweating and working hard. His feet and body moved without hesitation, diving into movements Han had seen many times before. He couldn't help but watch with heat rising to his cheeks as his heart set on fire. Minho never talked to him, nor held a conversation with him. Han knew he'd have no chance.
But here he was, walking down the sidewalk and around a bend, biting his lip anxiously as he approached the party. His phone began to vibrate in the safety of his jeans pocket, stirring his attention away from the party and his thoughts. His hand reaches back to his pocket seamlessly, familiar in its track as his phone leaves the blue jean pocket and enters view. It was Felix.
