~ 𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕒 ~ (Minsung)

🔒Chapter 25 - Efforts🔒

The house had shifted.

A month ago, it had been all locked doors, muffled sobs, and the kind of silence that screamed. Now, the silence was... tentative. Uneasy, yes, but breathing again.

Minho had been home for thirty-two days.

Thirty-two days of hiding in the shadows and being back at level 1.

He hadn’t stepped foot back into Jisung’s bedroom. Hadn’t shared a full meal. Hadn’t made a joke or fallen asleep on the couch with Jisung like he used to. But he existed now—in the daylight. He came out of his room on his own. Ate a few bites at the table if no one made a big deal of it. Some nights he even watched TV in his room with the volume low.

Progress.

Still, Jisung had lost 5 kilograms and any sense of rest. He sat at the kitchen counter now, eyes unfocused, chin resting on one hand while the other mindlessly stirred sugar into coffee he probably wasn’t even going to drink.

Felix’s voice cut through the stillness like a chainsaw wrapped in glitter and confetti.

"Jesus, Ji, you look like someone microwaved a raccoon."

Jisung startled, eyes snapping towards the source of the sound. "What?"

Felix strolled in, dropping his duffel on the floor like he owned the place. "You heard me. You look like you’ve been awake since 97 B.C. When’s the last time you showered and ate and slept in the same 24 hours?"

Changbin walked in behind him, more muted but wearing that 'mom friend' expression he’d perfected since his college days. "Don’t answer that. Just sit down, because we brought real food and we’re not against force-feeding you."

Jisung tried to smile but it came out strained, seeming more like a grimace. "You guys didn’t have to come all the way—"

"Oh, shut up," Felix said cheerfully, grabbing bowls from the cupboard like he lived there. "Bin made japchae and I got bored. Win-win."

Changbin caught Jisung’s shoulder as he passed. "We’re not here just for you. We wanted to see Minho, too."

Jisung’s face flickered, letting out a quiet sigh. "He’s… still not really talking much."

"That’s okay," Felix said, already scooping out noodles. "I’ll just do all the talking for him. As usual."

As if summoned by the sound of familiar voices, Minho appeared in the hallway.

He looked better. Not good—not yet—but better. No more feverish eyes. No new bruises. Still skinnier than he should’ve been, hoodie sleeves covering his hands, but he didn’t look like he was about to boltq.

He paused in the doorway when he saw Felix and Changbin, then blinked in surprise.

Felix lit up. "MINNIE!" he said like they hadn’t seen each other in ten years instead of just five weeks.

Minho actually cracked the tiniest smile, letting out a mumble. "You’re loud..."

"You missed my loud," Felix declared, stepping forward without touching. "You good with a hug? I missed you."