The Perfect Mistake COMPLETE

Happiness

Taemin watched Minho hastened to him. With every step, the pressure in his chest increased as if he'd dive into the deep ocean. No, as if he was pulled into the water against his will. He couldn't breathe and the pressure in his chest reached a dangerous level. Was it possible for a lung to implode?

There Minho stood, hardly one step away. His eyes were as red as they would cry blood at any moment. Taemin felt like he was drowning. Minho grabbed his wrist and squeezed it tightly. Too tightly. Yet the older boy didn't say a word. Taemin wished Minho would say something, but he remained silent. His grip, on the other hand, was still as harsh as before.

"You're hurting me," Taemin whispered. Minho seemed to respond. But not as Taemin had hoped. Instead, Minho pulled him close just to immediately push him in a different direction. Next thing Taemin knew was how his head slammed against a concrete wall and his wrist still hurt like hell. His right hand began to go numb, but M didn't seem to notice. Minho approached him. His eyes fixated on Taemin's lips. Just when Taemin thought Minho couldn't come closer, he felt Minho's breath on his cheek. Taemin was neither an innocent angel nor naive. He knew what was to come. Yet, Minho stood frozen. One, two, three, four ... second. How long were they in this awkward position? Taemin had lost track of time because his heart was beating with double speed. His right hand was probably beyond remedy.

"Please, you're hurting me," he repeated. Minho backed off suddenly as if he had received an electric shock and Taemin was the power source.

At that moment, Minho's car arrived. The driver got out to open both doors.

"Get in," Minho demanded. And that was all he had said until they got home. The ride was like a scene from a silent movie. No one had lost a single word. As if someone had pressed pause and their fight had taken a break. However, Minho's anger didn't decrease a bit, just like Taemin's panic. Minho forced himself not to worry, yet he couldn't take his eyes to form Taemin's wounded wrist. That will certainly leave bruises for days. He wasn't aware of how brutal he had been. He should have known it better. Taemin had a very slim figure, almost fragile. It'd take much force to hurt such a person.

When they finally got home Taemin Taemin hurried to his room. He wasn't a coward, just senseful. Well, sometimes he avoided confrontations, but who didn't do that from time to time. Minho ran after him and with his long legs, he reached Taemin quickly, just before Taemin reached the last two stairs. Minho reflexively grabbed Taemin's wrist only to let go immediately as Taemin cried in pain.

"What the hell happened earlier?" He finally asked the question which he should have asked for more than 30 minutes ago.

"Woo Bin surprised me. I didn't know what he was about to do." Taemin explained.

"So you thought you should play along?"

"What do you mean 'play along'? I tried to push him away from me." Taemin defended himself.

"It didn't look like you did."

"But I did. And what do you even care?" Taemin couldn't explain why, but he was suddenly angry. Despite the situation he was in, he was an honest man. He didn't like to lie. Actually, he barely lied. He preferred silent than lies. Therefore he hated it when people called him a liar.

"I don't like my property to run around and spread its legs for everyone." Taemin wasn't sure which part of this sentence bothered him more. That he was like an object or an animal that would belong to Minho or that he was called a whore.

"We need to get clear about this once for all. I'm not a slut, and if I'd sleep with the entire city, it's still none of your business. Because you.don't.own.me." Taemin announced. To him, the discussion was finished. He considered himself a rational person who didn't get himself into a pointless debate. No good characteristic for a prospective psychiatrist, he knew that.