[𝟘𝟡:𝟚𝟟]

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"i just don't understand our apartment doesn't have washer and dryers," jisung huffs in annoyance, shifting his laundry basket higher up on his hip.

"they're old-fashioned apartments, jisung," minho says to him. he's got his own basket propped under his arm, the oversized long sleeve shirt jisung loaned him rolled up his forearms. jisung's mad it looks so good on him.

"obviously i know that, minho," jisung says with slight frustation. he turns back slightly, and a smirk forms on his beautiful face.

"when we're done with this we can have a rematch -"

"i just think it's ridiculous you sent a blue shell at me at the last second, you dumbass!" jisung screams at him whilst on the sidewalk. his little tantrum was the peak of the many problems he has right now. he's sweating like hell, his clothes are gross, he's wearing some shabby outfit found at the back of his drawer in this horrendous heat, he lost a round of mario kart to minho, and worst of all: he's right in front of him. looking like a tanned greek god, while he feels like a hideous goblin from the deepest and darkest part of hell.

minho stops completely in the middle of the sidewalk, smirk gone and his left hand on his hip. "okay, what's going on? it sounds like something else is bothering y-" jisung doesn't let him finish as he cuts him off.

"obviously there's something else bothering me, minho!" he says quickly, feeling the heat from the sun and his emotions, bubbling like magma, coloring his cheeks peach pink. minho's eyes immediately go wide, and jisung childishly stomps his foot in an outburst.

"i look like a fucking mess!" jisung says with a wail, a laugh tailing the end of his whine. minho obviously can't tell if he wants to back away or laugh, but he chooses the latter.

"you look fine, jisung," he says lightheartedly.

"you don't get it, you probably never will," jisung says quietly as he follows him again. his cheeks are still blushing pink, hot with embarrassment at almost exposing himself.

minho notices, but he decides to simply bring the topic up later. sitting in the laundromat with minho's switch in between you, the two of them race for first in mario kart and battle it out in smash bros.

jisung doesn't care about how much he's swearing or that minho is literally when jisung smashes a red shell into his motorbike; all he is able to focus on are minho's godly features being highlighted by the sun coming from the eindow near him and his bubbly and buoyant laugh that made him much cuter than he already was.

he would never be able to understand, jisung talks to himself, how it feels like to be so self-conscious and self critical of every part of yourself in nearly every single moment of your life. he'll never know how it feels to look at yourself in the mirror and be so unhappy with what you see.

no matter how hard he tries to get rid of those nasty thoughts, they come back. everytime. jisung lets himself be distracted by that for a slight second, and that's when he go first to second as minho speeds past him. jisung doesn't say anything, which minho knows isn't like him. he casts a sidelong glance at jisung, and finds him not really looking at the screen. he furrows his brows in confusion before suggesting to check on their laundry.

jisung welcomes the silence they share. the walk back to the complex was the most quietit's ever been. minho could tell he was deep in thought, as he head was down and was avoiding his eyes. thankfully, the apartment you two live in is located on a small and empty street.

jisung tries to suppress a sigh but minho heard him."seriously, dude, what is it?" minho asks with an unyielding voice.

"nothing, minho," jisung says as he continues walking. "forget about it." he desperately hope his stubbornness won't rear it's head, but that's hopeless ahen it comes to minho.

minsung imagines. ⛄Waar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu