Catboy | Minsung

Three

a/n: for background context both Minho and Jisung have small feelings for one another, and pretty much always have

When it's these 3 speaking in dialogue:
Jisung, Mrs Han, Mr Han

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The ones you trust the most can sometimes be the ones you're most afraid of.

5:02

Tossing the single sheet to the side, Minho emerged from his sorry excuse for a bed. One peak out of the grated window to his cellar told him that it was just about dawn, meaning he had to get up for work.

Drawing out a laboured sigh, the albino hobbled over to his sink to give his face a quick splash. In the mirror he checked to see if his bruises had worsened. Sadly the indigo colour of the spots had only darkened over night, making his skin look tired and hardened. Finding his foundation (a cheap formula that he had to be given by Mr and Mrs Han, for the sole reason of covering visible marks) the hybrid squirted a generous amount onto his fingers before spreading it around his face. It was all he had to blend, but he made sure to do a better job than yesterday.

Returning to his bed Minho took his time getting changed, pushing his long, floppy tail through the holes in his clothes so it could fall and swing in between his legs. Giving himself a final check over to make sure no injuries could be seen, brushing his teeth and combing his snowy hair and ears, the young cat set off up the spirilling cellar stairs. The increasing warmth let his stuck up hairs settle, and his eyes widened when adjusting to the unusual light.

Every morning, Minho would do the same routine of chores: adjust the heating to fit the day, open up all the doors in the house, prepare the driveway and then finally start on breakfast. Out of all of those things, cooking up food was Minho's favourite.

After all the former was done and dusted, the albino found himself at the counter in the extravagant and modern kitchen the family owned, slicing up fresh, plump tomatoes. Mr and Mrs Han's meals were quick and boring, as they never switched up what they wanted to eat. It was Jisung's meal however that was fun to do.

Minho's young master always asked for whatever the older wanted to give, and he was satisfied by nearly everything handed to him. Today, the hybrid decided on making Jisung pate on toast with sliced tomatoes and lettuce, accompanied by a bowl of Greek yogurt and honey, and then a glass of freshly squeezed pineapple juice. You know what they say; pineapples do give you vitamin C.

Whilst he chopped the tomatoes, waiting for the bread to finish toasting beneath the grill, Minho checked the grandfather clock that stood proudly left of the door to the wine cellar. It was just coming up to 7 am, meaning Jisung would probably still be asleep. I wonder what he's dreaming about..

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7:20

Stirring, Jisung rolled so that his face was met with the twinkling light from behind his curtains. He'd had such a strange dream that night — he was in a car, alone except for a blurred figure laid down in the back seats. They were going fast, driving down the highway, without an aim. All he had to go off as to who could've been in the back seats was a quivering purr, but he'd woken up before being able to get a better look. A most particular dream it was, especially for Jisung, who's dreams typically consisted of cheesecake fantasies.