❝ ωιтн ιηѕσℓєη¢є ❞

•──────°˖✦*.★.*✦˖°──────•
『０５』

It was a hellish Friday.

Minho was held back in detention for falling asleep during first class and talking back to the professor. It was something simple, Minho thought, yet the 'soft ass college' (as he liked to refer) got butthurt by his slightly inconvenient behaviour. He was then stuck in his father's office, helping him sort a god awfully huge pile of documents ever since lunch break began, and until school hours ended.

"Principal, my ass. He basically forced me to skip my last classes." Minho cussed, ruffling through his closet to find something bright and spirit-lifting, for a change. Any other time, he would've been overjoyed because his roommate was nowhere to be seen when he had returned. But now, Minho just needed to get out and breath.

Catching sight of a newly opened café, Minho's eyes lit up. He adjusted his lilac sweater (that was just a shade lighter than his matching beret) and stood before the entrance, taking a moment to appreciate the aesthetic exterior.

He pushed the glass door open and walked in, inhaling the scent of freshly brewed coffee. A content smile played on his lips. He scanned the area, looking towards the occupied tables on his left. A few heads turned, some people whispering to each other upon recognizing the boy (just because he was well-off, especially being the step son of a known, rich Australian man. Minho himself was respected by many, as a result.)

Finding that the area was too crowded, he swiftly turned around to head to the opposite direction. Instead, something crashed into him. The clatter of a metal tray falling onto the marbled floor cut through the atmosphere. Ice cold liquid, the colour of latte, was splashed all over Minho's sweater and neck.

Minho yelped, grabbing the front of the soaked fabric away from his body while his face scrunched in disgust. The cold liquid unleashed all the pent-up anger Minho had held back. His furious eyes met Jisung's wide-open eyes, shock evident on his face as he remained on his butt, having fallen from the impact earlier.

Minho hissed, rage rising in him as he watched Jisung scramble to his feet. Too caught up fuming with anger, Minho failed to notice the outfit adorned by the boy; that of a staff.

"I'm s-"

Minho yanked the blond closer by grabbing the collar of his uniform, harshly cutting him off. He glared into the depths of the other's panicked hazel eyes.

"Why must you be here?" Minho snarled, his each breath fastening. "God, you know how to get on my nerves."

Jisung shut his eyes and inhaled to calm himself. His cheeks were tinted red, most likely due to embarrassment. His pleading gaze met Minho's. "We can fix this without causing a scene-"

"You just ruined my day, Han Jisung!" yelled Minho as he shoved the boy away, his voice booming through the once calm café. Leaving no space for explanations, Minho stormed out with a scowl on his face, and a large coffee stain on his soft purple sweater.

☆

"Hey Felix- Chan?" Minho arched his brow, questioning the boy that opened the door to Felix's dorm room.

Chan scratched his head awkwardly. His gaze travelled to Minho's dirtied sweater. "Hey.. You look annoyed." He chuckled, an awkward sound coming out instead.

Chan's hair was a tousled mess, shirt crumpled and unbuttoned at the top. And of course, a very noticeable coat of red spread over his cheeks, all the way up to his earlobes.

Minho sighed, walking past his best friend, who held the door wide open to let him in. And when he saw a flustered Felix seated cross legged on his bed, fixing his shirt and hair, Minho knew Felix's roommate (aka straight A student Choi Jongho) must've been gone for a long while.

Thinking for a moment, Chan rotated his chair to either sides. "You know you could've handled it better."

A muffled groan was released onto Felix's pillow, from Minho who lied facedown. "Handled it better?" He grunted, lifting his face to rest his chin on his folded arms. "He ruined my already ruined day!"

"But you could've saved the humiliation and not lashed out!" Chan threw his arms in the air, raising his voice to prove his point.

Seated at the foot of his bed, Felix checked out his nails. His eyebrows were floated in a fed-up expression, indicating just how he was so done with Minho's ugh behaviour. "It doesn't even hurt to be nice but you choose to be so insolent. I feel sorry for that cute boy."

Minho turned on his side and propped his head on one hand. "You demons are turning against me." He glared, kicking Felix when the latter mocked his exact words.

It was a few minutes until nine pm. Both Minho and Chan were ushered out of Felix's room because Jongho was to return right before the night curfew begins. Totally drained from the day's events, Minho stumbled into the room, his beret now gripped in his hand.

At the desk, Jisung sat with his elbows folded on the surface, face buried. For a few seconds, the ravenette stood staring at Jisung's back, wondering if the boy was asleep. Minho peeled the stained sweater off his body and slipped on a plain white tee, all the while making enough noise to let the boy know he was back (like 'accidentally' knocking his leg on the coffee table, or sliding his closet door close too loudly). Still, Jisung did not move, his breathing steady.

Minho flopped onto his bed with a groan, still watching the blond who's frail frame appeared so defeated. He stared at Jisung, eyes burning holes onto the latter's peach onesie. As if Minho's gaze alerted him, Jisung's shoulders stiffened. He slowly lifted his head, his bangs unkept. Even from just his profile view, Minho immediately noticed his puffy eyes. The ravenette gulped.

Staring at the blinds that covered the window ahead, Jisung seemed to be thinking for some time.

"I lost the job."

Jisung's voice was rough, a hopeless tone present. The raspiness made him clear his throat right afterwards. Minho didn't take his eyes off, but could only give silence in return, with every second turning his heart heavy.

"It was my only way of paying the fees.." Jisung continued, voicing his thoughts without checking to see if Minho was even listening. "Now I guess I'll be kicked out soon enough."

Smoothing his fluffy blond strands downwards, Jisung released a halfhearted chuckle. "But I know you don't even care.. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Feeling the words stuck in his throats, Minho still remained silent, conflict in his eyes. Jisung finally faced him, and now the redness on his sore cheeks were properly visible. Minho realised that he must have been crying for quite a while.

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on your pretty sweater.." Jisung confessed, genuineness present in his tired eyes as he managed to put on a weak smile.

They held each other's gaze, a hundred thoughts running through Minho's head, debating on what he should say.

"I feel sleepy so.. Good night I guess." Jisung said softly, his eyes hesitant to look away, almost as if he was hoping Minho would say something.

When there was no response, the blond released s small sigh. He waddled to his bed (still half-occupied by Minho's crap) and climbed over. A small pout appeared on his lips as he made himself comfortable under the comforter, once again curling into a tiny ball. This time, he faced the wall instead of Minho.

And still, Minho sat as he was, trying to comprehend the bad feeling that stirred inside him. He felt a mixture of sorry and guilt, and had not a clue how to handle it.

★

a;n
raise your hand if you think
(pretty) Minho (in this fic) is dumb--