cliché

❝[☁️] t w e n t y 二十

As his consciousness finally makes it in shreds back to the surface, Jisung's eyes open with a certain difficulty since his eyelids are incredibly heavy and sticky. His whole body feels numb and exhausted, lying on a soft surface... The boy takes in his surroundings, realising that he's in a hospital room – the events that must have led to this point rushing back to his memory.

It takes Jisung another few seconds to acknowledge that he's not alone in here. There is certain someone sitting on a chair.

"Minho-hyung?" Jisung rasps out, straining his vocal cords as his voice didn't want to cooperate well.

Minho lifts his head up from above a notebook he's been scribbling something in, and upon seeing Jisung awake, he smiles at him somewhat sadly. He appears oddly peaceful. "Hey. Good to have you back."

Jisung's doesn't know why but this sentence stroke in him anxiety. "How... how long has it been?" He asks worriedly, yet what soothes him is the fact that Minho is still wearing his soccer t-shirt.

"Around half an hour?" He powers on his phone to check the time. "Don't panic, you weren't out for incredibly long. You started to stir about ten minutes ago, even once opened your eyes but you were so out of it that you just drifted off again." The older leans forward, pressing the button to alarm the nurses of shift in Jisung's condition.

A nurse entered the room and examined his state superficially – it was only then when Jisung realised that his littered in ugly scars forearms were revealed, a couple of wires ending with needles attached to his body. It made him feel ten times more self-conscious.

The nurse asked him a few questions (also offered him a glass of water which he gladly accepted), scribbled something down on her clipboard, and she left after announcing that the doctor will be with them as soon as he gets out of some surgery.

"Where is everyone?" He questions after taking a few careful sips of his water, his throat feeling dry like a desert.

"Oh, they allowed only one person in the room for the time when you were out. The rest is sitting in the hallway. I literally switched up with Chan a few minutes ago, he was the one to sit by your side since the beginning." Minho explains.

Jisung hums in understanding. "Since I'm already awake... I guess we can invite them in?" He proposes.

"Yeah..." Minho scratches his temple, hesitating. "Actually, can it wait a bit? I wanted to... ask you something," he admits, sort of timid but also solemn expression present on his face.

Jisung shifts in the narrow hospital bed, pulling the thin comforter up to his chest so it was now covering his arms. "Uh, is it about... you know... what happened in the changing room?" He avoids eye contact with the older, not daring to look him in the eyes, afraid of what type of emotion they held.

Minho confirms his guess with a nod. There is a heavy silence lingering in between them, the beeping of the machinery now obnoxiously loud. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife.

"Do you..." Minho begins, his thoughts chasing one another in a tailspin as he tries to form a sentence, "... I wonder if you feel the same way about me as I feel about you," he cautiously says.

Jisung bites down at his lip again in a nervous manner, picking at his cuticles underneath the cover. "What does it mean... 'the same way'?" He tries to verify.

Minho looks lost for a second, his gaze shuffling around the floor. "I'm not sure myself," he confesses eventually. "I just... care about you. And feel a weird need to protect you."

To Minho's surprise, Jisung lets out a tiny chuckle. "Well, then we don't feel exactly the same. But I care about you too, Minho. And I feel comfortable and secure around you."