Chapter 31

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As Minho went home, he couldn't help thinking about Jisung. He found the boy intriguing. The way he had listened to him when he told him everything that had happened to him: he looked so genuinely interested and concerned for the elder. Minho was surprised; he had opened up so quickly. He told the younger boy things he hadn't told his closest friends or even his therapist about.

Jisung just had this aura around him. He seemed so trustworthy and supportive. He was kind and his smile was pretty.

Actually of Minho were to describe Jisung's appearance with one word, he'd say pretty. He had never thought of a boy as pretty. Of course there were guys he had thought of as cute or handsome or cute or attractive, but never were they pretty. Not like Jisung was.

Suddenly Minho realized what he was thinking and he immediately shook his head. He couldn't think of Jisung like that. He couldn't like him. He couldn't be with the younger. Mainly because he knew that Jisung wasn't ready for it yet, hell he didn't even know if he was ready and either way it was too soon. They had met barely a week ago.

He knew it was too soon, but that didn't stop him from thinking about what it would be like to be with Jisung: to cuddle him, to hold hands with him, to kiss him and just to be able to hold him and be there for him.

Minho arrived at his apartment. He didn't know what to do with his new found feelings. He didn't even wanna tell anyone about it. Anyone in his friend group would freak out and he was also not keen on telling them, scared of eventually getting rejected. That would be so embarrassing and would mostly likely ruin his friendship with Jisung.

He was just anxious, his anxiety acting up and not leaving him. His anxiety was one of the worst mental illnesses he had. The constant feeling of being in edge. Feeling nervous. Not being able to function like a normal human being in perfectly normal situations. Feeling like he wasn't capable of doing simple things that would be easy for other people. He just wanted to feel free, but he couldn't. His anxiety getting in the way. Always making him feel like he wasn't good enough and he would never be.

Before Minho could even process what was going on he started having an anxiety attack and fell down on the hard wooden floor of his small bedroom. He sat down against the wall. His breath heavy and irregular. His heart feeling like it went way too fast and feeling it beat all over his body. At this point tears were just streaming down his face and his vision was blurry. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch something, he wanted to let his feelings out, but all that came out of him was a weak sob. He just wanted to be held and be cared for in that moment.

After a good ten minutes of trying to calm down and trying to steady his breathing, he finally felt okay again. Well, as okay as you can be after just having had an anxiety attack.

He plopped down on his bed, still out of breath and feeling tired. He layed down and in that moment he just wanted to sleep. He was so mad at his brain, at himself for not being able to function like he should.

He should be feeling fine. He shouldn't panic over tiny things. And he should be able to sleep at night. That wasn't the case though and Minho was mad and upset. He ended up just sitting there, staring at the wall, just hoping that this would end soon, that he would feel like his old self soon, that he would be able to be himself without doubting every little thing he did.

All he wished for was to be okay. He didn't need much. He just wanted to be okay.

And maybe everything would be, he just didn't believe that yet.

~

Sorry for taking a while to update. I didn't have a lot of ideas and a lot of shit went down in my personal life. I can't say I'm okay now, but I'm trying.

Anygay hope you enjoyed this chapter.

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