breathe . minho

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"Y/n and Minho, Friday cleanup duty." your teacher read off a long list, assigning duties to the class. You turned and looked at Minho, who winked at you.

You hesitantly smiled back. Minho was popular, very popular. As president of the dance club, a crazy good sense of fashion and his strikingly good looks, every girl was head over heels for him... except you. To you, he was just another juvenile delinquent, a popular kid totally not in your league.

That Friday, you swept the corridors of the school as Minho wiped the windows. It was the last day of school that week and not many students were still lurking around. You were pleasantly surprised that Minho was actually helping with duty, he just didn't seem like the sort of person who would follow the rules.

The both of you barely talked, carrying out your duties in silence. The last task of the day was cleaning up the rooftop area, which had a nice, rustic feel to it with its concrete floor and little wooden bench overlooking the school. You were out of breath and you had sat down on the bench to rest. Minho saw you sitting down, exhausted. He bought a drink for you from the vending machine and took his place at the other end of the bench.

"Thank you," you breathed. Your chest was tight even though you had done minimal activity.

"No problem. Are you alright?" Minho looked at you, and the both of you made eye contact. You noticed his distinct features and long eyelashes. Unlike those preppy girls who would blush and turn away, you continued to look boldly at the boy sitting next to you. You patted yourself on the back. Being in control of situations like this made you feel good.

"I'm fine," you stated. Minho was nicer than you had expected. Maybe working with him wouldn't be so bad after all.

The both of you sat in silence, enjoying the spring breeze. You slowly caught your breath and, standing up, thanked Minho again for the drink before heading home.

~

It went on like this for a few weeks, each conversation on the rooftop bench getting longer and longer. Sometimes, you'd even stay behind to chat with your newfound friend, the both of you enjoying each other's company.

You talked about your hobbies, your interests, and it came to Minho's knowledge that you had really bad asthma, which was why you could not do strenuous activities. Even cleaning duty rendered you breathless, and as you told him your story - how you used to love track and field but contracted this lung condition. It led to you giving up on your passion, and his heart broke for you. You were humble, sincere, and did your best in everything, surely you deserved to pursue your passion! In that moment Minho vowed to himself to protect you to the best of his ability, to love you - for who you were.

The both of you had become quite close over the year, and in the summer holidays you had met up a few times at cafés, parks and libraries. You felt yourself falling for him, and you chose to enjoy every moment with him. One day, you would tell him this secret - that you loved him and wanted to spend your life with him.

Autumn came, and duty was still on. The both of you looked forward to Friday, the special day that came once a week where you could be yourself with the one you loved.

One week, it was different.

Minho couldn't help but notice that you had lost weight over the holidays. You looked paler and weaker, constantly stopping to rest even though you were just walking. You carried an inhaler around in case of asthma attacks, and often used it when you felt suffocated. Minho was deeply concerned, but didn't ask about it other than the frequent "are you feeling okay?". You were the kind of person who needed time and space to recover. He understood that. He gave you space to breathe.

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