Seventeen imagines

one and two small petals III-Kim Mingyu

Credit to tonicandjins

Mingyu has grown tired.

Not of you, though. Never of you. He wished he would eventually get tired of you, but he guessed it wasn't time to get over you yet. Looking back at the months he tried to, he figured he shouldn't force it. He shouldn't try too hard to get over you, because not only was it mentally draining to forget you but you were lingering everywhere he went-even without your real presence-and he was getting tired of running away. All this time, all he had been really doing was running away from the fact that you really had left him. He thought that getting angry with you and cursing your name would mean that he was facing the real problem: losing you. Distracting himself through work, although it tremendously helped his group and helped him improve, was never really the answer to getting over the breakup.

To get over something means to face it. If he had to stare at his broken heart all day and cry his heart our until he runs out of tears just so he could start accepting the fact that you were really gone, if it meant that he could start getting over it, then he realized he should.

But you are intoxicating. Even long gone and moved on, you still had a strong grip on his heart.

"What do you think of Korea?" he randomly asked you one night, kissing your bare shoulder as you were lying on your stomach, your head facing him sideways, and he was lying on his side, elbow propped to support his head. You smiled jadedly, body still exhausted from intense yet zealous way you both showed how much you loved each (although he did most of the work.) You reached up to caress his face, making him smile and kiss your forehead.

"Kim Mingyu-ah," you had whispered sweetly. "Is this your idea of pillowtalk?"

"Would you rather have me asking you about school?" he asked. You groaned. "See. Now, tell me. What do you think about Korea?"

"Well, for starters, I like it," you answered, still looking at him. You once told him he was the most ethereal after sex; it made him blush but he scolded you and told you not to tell him things that could make his heart race so rigidly.

"And?"

You closed your eyes. "Can we talk about it in the morning?"

He whined, "Come on. Tell me now. I can't sleep."

He shifted and moved you until you were snuggled by his side, your head resting on his chest, legs tangled together.

"I like it here," you finally answered. "I like the food. I like that I get to teach. That I get to be a part of someone's progress. I like that I have friends here. I like the fried chicken. I like the beer."

"Mhmm," he hummed. "Go on."

"I like samgyeopsal."

"Can you talk about anything other than food?"

"I like you."

"Aish," he grated. "I told you not tell me things that make my heart clench."

"You make my heart clench every day. Do you hear me complaining?"

"It's because you like it."

"I do," you breathed out, smiling while your eyes still closed. "And I like you. I love you. You're here in South Korea. That's the first reason why I like it here."

"Do you..." he trailed off, but didn't continue.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked at him. He was staring at the ceiling, like he was thinking about something deep.

"Hmm?" you hummed, making him look back down at you. You reached up to give him a quick peck on the lips. "What is it?"

"Do you see yourself here in the future?" he asked hesitantly, looking into your eyes. When you looked at him in shock and didn't speak, he sighed. "I shouldn't have asked that. I'm sorry."