ONESHOTS! minsung

04; singularity

very short angst

And Minho just sat there, engulfed in his own little world. He was crouched down, his tiptoes were the only parts that touched the wet floor and his knees fully bent so his thighs touched his calves and his back was pressed against the cold stone bricks of the wall.

His neck was crooked backwards, as far as the wall behind him allowed him to - a cigarette between his pointer and middle finger. Smoke carelessly vanishing into the air as the embers slowly licked at the rest of the cancer stick, devouring it. His right elbow was placed on his thigh and it bent as he dragged the poisonous smoke towards his mouth, engulfing it between his lips.

He sighed contently as he embraced the taste he was already desensitized to. His body gave up rejecting it long ago, in turn his brain started craving it - big inhales and exhales that used to calm him down became a required routine throughout the day.

"You smoke."

Minho's closed lids opened, revealing clouded eyes. He blinked as they adjusted to the darkness, cold eyes fixed on the boy in front of him. He didn't bother forming a verbal response, instead settling with taking another slow drag from his cigarette and shrugging.

"I came to talk to you."

"I figured", Minho simply said, his voice rough from the smoke, not showing a hint of annoyance.

"I'm sorry", the red head in front of him implied, eyes searching for the elders'. But Minho's gaze flicked between his cigarette and the soft, yellow light of the street lantern that reflected on the surface of the scattered puddles on the concrete.

"What for?" Minho asked, restlessly ruffling his already disheveled hair with his free hand.

Jisung smiled sympathetically as he looked down on the tired figure. His gaze finally found a target to gaze at mindlessly instead of the elders' eyes, as the smoker refused to look back into his. It was the orange, fiery embers that erupted from the cancer stick between Minho's gentle fingers.

"You know it, Minho."

"Then why do you want to talk about it? Why apologise now?"

Jisung sighed, crouching down to be on his ex boyfriend's eye level. They finally lock eyes.

"Better late then never. I feel restless whenever I think about the way we parted."

He tried to find sense in the elders' gaze, though Minho's eyes refused to tell him anything.

"You seemed just fine with breaking up with me the other day."

The words that meant no harm stung in Jisung's heart. 'the other day' sounded impersonal, something not worth remembering the date of. But Jisung knew Minho. He knew that 'the other day' was exactly a week ago. seven days ago. roughly one-hundred-and-sixty-eight hours ago.

Silence.

The younger stood up.

Jisung had his hands in his pockets, his jacket open, revealing his sweater underneath. His posture was straight, chin up, head slightly turned downwards so that he could face his ex-boyfriend.

Too much distance between two boys who loved each other just so dearly.

"Why'd you do it though?"

Minho's voice came out as low as a whisper, almost silent enough for the breeze to carry it away.

"I don't know."