The threshold of Seo-Jun's home offered little solace as Minho crossed it, the usual warmth of the space failing to penetrate the turmoil within him. Lily, ever the beacon of joy, bounded forward, her welcoming "Hi, Minho!" immediately stilled by the sight of his preoccupied expression. Her brow furrowed with concern, she pressed, "Hey, is everything okay?" The words tumbled out of Minho, laden with a weight he hadn't realised he carried: "Seo-Jun is staying at Bloodline's mansion for a few days."
Lily, her understanding limited to the surface, responded with a casualness that did little to soothe his unspoken anxieties. "Well... it's not unusual for him to spend a few nights there." she offered, her voice light. The words seemed to hang in the air, failing to bridge the growing distance between them. A perplexed frown settled on Minho's face, and he questioned, "Really?" Lily, oblivious to the deeper currents, elaborated, "Yeah, around this time of the year the business is going pretty well, but it is also hectic, and he has very little free time. So it is normal, don't worry about it."
A realisation seemed to dawn on Minho, the pieces of a puzzle clicking into place. "So, that's why Dad wants to find a business partner quickly..." he thought, the unspoken implications of the situation hitting him like a physical blow. Yet, a deeper unease lingered, a feeling that went beyond the surface explanations. He murmured, his gaze averted, "But... since I started living here too, he has never stayed the night there..." A subtle smirk played on Lily's lips as she understood the hidden meaning of his words, and she moved closer, a comforting hand landing on his shoulder. "Oh, come on! Don't worry! He will be back in a few days for sure!" she reassured, her voice a gentle counterpoint to the storm brewing within him.
Lily then began to tug Minho towards the inviting embrace of the couch. "Let's do this!" she exclaimed, her voice a vibrant melody. "He'll be gone for a few days, and in two days, I have to fly back to London. But, instead… I will just take the next week off, too, and I'll go home in six days. That way, I can keep you company until he's back!" Her smile was a radiant promise of shared laughter and carefree moments.
Minho, however, halted his steps, the weight of his thoughts momentarily eclipsing Lily's ebullience. "No, Lily." he said sharply, the words a stark contrast to her sunny disposition. "You don't have to do that for me." A playful laugh escaped Lily's lips, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's not just for you," she countered, a touch of tease colouring her voice. "It's for me too. You think I want to go back and work my ass off at work?" Minho's own laughter bubbled up, a release of tension, as he surrendered to her playful prodding. She settled onto the couch, a picture of contentment. "I'll have much more fun here with you guys, so I'm staying."
A reluctant smile played on Minho's lips, and he couldn't help but succumb to her infectious spirit. He sank onto the couch, a sigh escaping him. "If you want to stay, then I can't stop you." he conceded. Lily's smirk was a triumphant beacon. "Atta boy!" she declared, her voice brimming with delight. Minho shook his head, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. Lily then leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We will have so much fun without Jun. You will see!" she promised, her voice filled with anticipation. Minho laughed, the sound echoing through the room. "If you say so…" he replied, the corners of his mouth curving upwards.
The day bled into night, a seamless transition that found Seo-Jun ensconced in the familiar confines of his room within the Bloodline mansion. A silken robe draped loosely over his frame as he lay upon the bed, his thoughts a restless tide. "I didn't tell Lily I won't go home for a while." he mused, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, "But… I believe she had a sneaking suspicion of it. I will see her at the airport in two days. In any case… I will not visit Minho at home. It's for the best..." The words were a shield against the gnawing unspoken longing that threatened to unravel his resolve. The decision, however logical, left a void, a silent ache for Minho he was choosing to distance himself from.
Meanwhile, in a separate room, a parallel narrative unfolded. Minho, too, was a prisoner of his own thoughts, stretched out on his bed, the darkness mirroring the turmoil within. "I can't stop thinking about him… Is he okay? Did he eat dinner? Is he working now? He must not overwork himself. What if he gets a high fever again from overworking?! Who is going to take care of him there?!" The questions swirled, a tempest of worry that drove him to sit upright, his heart a frantic drum against his ribs. "I should text him. To see if he is working." he muttered, reaching for his phone, the cold glass a stark contrast to the heat that flushed his cheeks. But hesitation, a familiar adversary, stayed his hand. "Wait... I can't text him like that... it's out of the blue, and he will think that I am worried about him, which is not true." The phone remained clutched in his hand, a battleground for his conflicting emotions. Finally, with a sigh that carried the weight of unspoken truths, he relented. "Fuck it! If he gets sick, I would be the one to take care of him! It will be on me, and that's not happening." The text, a fragile bridge across the chasm of the separation, was sent.
The weight of the day had finally settled upon Seo-Jun, his form now a silhouette against the stark white of the bed. His back found solace against the wall, a silent sentinel, as he scrolled through the glowing phone in his hands. A message, a digital tendril from the outside world, blinked into existence: "You are not working at this hour, right?" It was Minho, a name that flickered in his thoughts like a half-forgotten dream. A wry smile tugged at Seo-Jun's lips, a subtle acknowledgment of the game they played. "What are you doing, Minho? I am trying to put some distance between us, and you still act like I have never done anything to pull you away." He responded with a simple text, a careful dance of words: "I am not. Don't worry."
On the other side of the phone, Minho's relief was palpable, a sigh escaping his lips as he read the reply. "Okay, that's good to hear." But the reprieve was short-lived, replaced by a flurry of internal panic. "WAIT... NOW WHAT?! What am I supposed to say?! Should I leave him on seen?!" Just as the anxiety threatened to consume him, another message appeared, a gentle push against the turmoil: "Don't stress yourself over me and go rest. Good night."
A blush, swift and unexpected, bloomed across Minho's cheeks. "WHO IS HE TALKING TO?! I am not his boyfriend! Why is he texting me "good night"?!" His voice, laced with a mixture of confusion and something akin to delight, echoed in the room. He stared at the screen, his face still flushed, before a sigh of surrender escaped him. "Fuck..." he muttered, before sending a final message: "Good night." The phone, now a source of both excitement and torment, was cast aside, and he was consumed by the soft embrace of the blanket. "I am seriously fucked!" he thought, the words a confession, a surrender, and perhaps, a secret joy.
Meanwhile, Seo-Jun's gaze was fixed on the screen, a faint smile playing on his lips as his thoughts swirled. "It's all in my head... you are probably not feeling anything..." he mused, the words a quiet echo in the stillness of the room. With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken emotions, he set his phone aside, the digital world fading as he turned his attention inward.
Then he closed his eyes, the image of the screen still flickering behind his eyelids, and slowly drifted off to sleep.