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    Summary

    When the time for the high notes came, Minho continued with a falsetto and a flat voice, something which twisted parts of Jisung’s brain with utmost curiosity. It was the same kind which he knew Hyunjin had when he saw Felix—the same kind he felt now—the one wherein an artist finds their muse.

    Jisung breathed heavily when Minho finished the song, his head pounding at par with his heart. He watched as Minho placed the guitar on his lap and looked up sheepishly. “How was it?”

    “I think I’ll write an essay and hand it to you,” Jisung whispered. “You’re… amazing.”

    Minho laughed at that—the breathy laugh that he always did. When did it become always?

    Jisung watched in awe as the soft orange light danced on Minho’s skin as he shook his head. “There was that one line in your book—Jisung-ah,” Minho began, handing the guitar back to Jisung. “It was when Seungha finally crossed Miroh after almost losing Hwangjae. What was it…? If those declarations of love were what drove my heart to sabotage, I’d like to resubmit my essay and pin it to your filthy chalkboard back in Gangseo-gu.”

     

    "Are you pining on someone, hyung?"

    Series
    Language:
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