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Mingyu tried to stifle his laughter as Minghao dragged him by the hand to the inconspicuous motel room they had booked for the night.
“They’re going to find us,” Minghao whispered as he fumbled with the key to the room. “And then, what will the point of this orchestrated escapade be?”
Minghao’s mock exasperated tone only made for an elated smile to spread across Mingyu’s face, already imagining them trending #1 on Naver. “We’d go down in history.”
They both giggled like embarrassed, inexperienced teenagers as they entered the dark, stuffy room and collapsed on the bed. It was lumpy underneath them, and creaked at the slightest bit of movement.
Mingyu thought it was perfect.
He moved so he could straddle Minghao's hips, felt himself flush at the little gasp the other let out. He still found it unbelievable he could make someone as untouchable as Xu Minghao putty in his hands.
“Promise to never stop loving me?” Mingyu leaned forward, so that their foreheads were almost touching
A kiss was pressed to his nose. Another at the corner of his mouth. One more to the underside of his jaw. The final one on his lips.
“I’ll love you always and forever.”
.
.
.
"So what you're telling me is that I'm not 25, but 30?"
Minghao studies his face in the compact mirror one of his nurses had retrieved for him at his request. His eyes look a little empty and his face is a little thin, but he guesses that's what aging in the entertainment business does to you. He snaps it shut and redirects his attention back to Seungcheol, who's toying with a loose thread on his shirt.
"Yeah. How does it feel to wake up feeling mentally like you're in your twenties, when you're biologically in your thirties?"
"Weird. Really weird. Are we all still friends?"
He doesn't miss the way Seungcheol frowns, nor the way he starts to rub at his thigh—a nervous habit he picked up for when they would have radio interviews, if Minghao remembers correctly.
"We had our 11th anniversary gathering a little over a month ago. Everyone was there, except for you. You were busy... filming, but you sent us all your love and some souvenirs from your trip to India."
"I'm an actor now?" Minghao asks, incredulous. At the back of his head, he wonders what could've led him to such a country, so out of his comfort zone. Maybe Mingyu...
"Not really," Seungcheol's voice is starting to take a nervous edge, like he doesn't know how to explain things. Minghao frowns, because he feels like he's been taking everything reasonably well, considering the fact there's a huge chunk of blank space in his memories, and doesn't understand why Seungcheol would want to keep information from him.
"Where's Mingyu?" he asks, softly, after a tense moment of silence. Seungcheol checks his watch—the latest Apple Watch model, he assumes—something he's been doing a frequently since he burst into Minghao's room half an hour ago, mumbling something incoherent about newborns and if boxers with better waistband elastic actually existed.
A lot can happen in five years, and Minghao stares at his hands in his lap and tries to ignore the possibility of a break-up. When he'd woken up, body aching with slowly dulling pain, and a sweet-faced nurse telling him everything was going to be okay, the first person he'd asked for, once he'd taken a few sips of water, was his boyfriend. Instead, he'd gotten a frazzled-looking Seungcheol, and while he wasn't complaining, it would've been nice to have a person of greater personal comfort at his side—Minghao couldn't really ask Seungcheol for reassuring kisses.
"He should be on his way, along with Junnie. Last time he texted me he—"
"—Hao, you're alive!" The familiar sound of Jun's smooth Chinese interrupts whatever Seungcheol had been saying, and Minghao feels a smile start to spread across his face.
"Of course I am. You wouldn't be visiting me here if I wasn't." It's the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Jun's face falls almost immediately, and Minghao feels like he's been kicked in the stomach.
"You scared us," Jun mumbles, as he walks over to Minghao's bedside.
"Sorry," Minghao responds sheepishly. "I promise I won't do it again, though I can't even know for certain if I've done this before."
Jun laughs, but it doesn't make his eyes crinkle up as much as they normally do. "You haven't. This is the first time, and I will hope it's the last, too."
The sound of approaching footsteps steals Minghao's attention from Jun's pensive eyes, and towards the door to his hospital room. It's Mingyu, looking devastatingly handsome, as always, and Minghao feels his heart beat just a little bit faster in his chest. He's walking much too slowly for Minghao's liking, who just wants to take him into his arms and never let go. But as he gets closer, it's evident that he's not the same man he was five years ago. Minghao hopes that he isn't the reason for that. That he isn't the reason for why the mischievous spark Mingyu always had in his eyes is no longer there. That he isn't the reason why the smile Mingyu gives him as he sits on the hospital bed is tinged with sadness, as though being around Minghao brings him pain.
"You're here," Minghao whispers.
Mingyu's hands are trembling as he takes them into his own, and that's where Minghao's suspicions start to get cemented.
They're keeping secrets from him.
. . . . .
hyung, he's back. 𝟷:𝟹𝟺ᴘᴍ
he's here. in front of me. 𝟷:𝟹𝟺ᴘᴍ
𝟷:𝟹𝟺ᴘᴍ who?
𝟷:𝟻𝟺ᴘᴍ mingyu??
minghao. 𝟸:𝟶𝟷ᴘᴍ
minghao is back. 𝟸:𝟶𝟷ᴘᴍ
. . . . .
22 August, 2023
Dearest Hao,
I found one of your sweaters while I was unpacking the last of the boxes that contained my clothing. It's the sweater you were wearing the time we went out to that one noraebang we frequented with Chan back in March. He was always so willing to be our designated third wheel, wasn't he? I cried because it doesn't smell like you anymore, because the only reason I know it's yours is because I can still remember you wearing it to sleep almost every night once winter started to creep up on us, insisting it killed two birds with one stone, as it was warm and soft.
I live by myself now, and have for the past couple of weeks—I think you would be proud. Remember how you said that whenever it was that I moved into my own place, I would trip over the threshold and, therefore, bring myself terrible luck? You were wrong… at least, partly. I bumped into the island in the kitchen and nearly lost my footing, but I caught myself just in time. Jun-hyung helped me move in, and all I could think of was how that was supposed to be you. You used to tell me that when we moved in together, after our disbandment, that the first thing we would assemble would be our bed. Jun-hyung insisted on putting the chairs together first, so we could have a place to rest in between breaks.
Is it selfish of me to want you to come back? To want you to never find anyone else? Perhaps it is, and I can’t find it in myself to care. I can't stand the thought of someone else being the sole receiver of your beautiful smiles, or the thought of you kissing someone that isn't me. I think a lot about how you said that if we truly belong together, we’ll come back to each other.
All my love,
Gyu
. . . . .
The hospital allows Minghao to be discharged the same day, which makes no sense to him, but his nurse tells him that it's because he's lucky that he didn't sustain any major injuries. I lost my memory of the last five years, he'd wanted to tell her. Doesn't that seem like a major enough injury to you?
He turns to look at Mingyu, who drives with both hands on the steering wheel, and practically never ceases from keeping his eyes straight on the road. It's too quiet inside of the car—a black, flashy sports car that seems so quintessentially Mingyu—and Minghao reasons that it's because he's just had the scare of his life. Minghao looks away so he can lean his head against the window, happy that it's not on the side he got 10 stitches on earlier, and focuses on the sights of late-evening Seoul, with all its lights and people walking the streets. He doesn't recognize the area they're in now, but it's turned into something more residential, with tall buildings that make it clear that this is an area specifically for the elite.
"How long have you lived here?" Minghao asks, not turning to see Mingyu's reaction.
"We, uh, live together. I just bought it a few months ago, and you'll be able to see that once we're inside. You've been so busy traveling, and I got back from my military service in March, so it doesn't feel like home just yet." Mingyu's voice is still shaky, and it makes Minghao feel uneasy. Do I really travel that much? Is that why he's so sad? It makes his heart sink, but instead of pressing for more information, Minghao clears his throat and waits for Mingyu to finish parking the car, now that they're in the underground garage.
"I'll help you out and up," Mingyu murmurs as he unbuckles his seatbelt. Minghao wants to protest, but he'd been told at the hospital that, along with his stitches, he had a mildly severe concussion and a fractured rib, along with an array of bruises that he was sure wouldn't look so good the following morning.
Once they're at the front door, after a painfully awkward elevator ride, Mingyu fumbles with the keys and drops them a couple times, making Minghao shake his head in adoration, because this clumsy fool is very much like the Mingyu of five years ago.
The inside of the apartment is stunning, nearly all white, and Minghao takes a moment to process that this is where he (technically) lives with the person he loves most. He also sees what Mingyu meant when he said it didn't feel like home. The wall is bare of any sort of photographs, which strikes Minghao as odd, because they'd discussed, even more than five years ago, that once they moved into their own place, the walls would have no white space from all the picture frames and different artwork that would be hung and displayed on them.
"I..." Minghao starts, not knowing exactly what to say. He feels like he's in a stranger's house. "I think I want to take a nap."
Mingyu turns his head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. Minghao remembers how the nurse had told them that she recommended him not sleep at all, due to him being concussed, but if he felt he needed it, it would be okay. He wonders if Mingyu is thinking about that as well.
"Yeah? Uh, do you want to sleep in those clothes or do you want me to get you something more comfortable? If you follow me, I'll show you where our bedroom is."
"A change of clothes would be nice," Minghao says as he follows the taller through the apartment. He catches a glimpse of the city as they walk by the living room, its walls made entirely of windows. He didn't really pay attention to how many flights up they are, but from the stunning view of the Han River below them, he can tell that it's many.
Mingyu rummages through one of the drawers in the room until he comes up with a pair of sweatpants and a familiar sweater.
"I still have this?" Minghao asks with incredulity. He'd bought it in 2019, at a little shop he'd happened to wander by in Japan. It's softer than he remembers, most likely the result of many washes over the years, but it's still intact. "Do I have any more of my clothes here?" He turns his head towards Mingyu, who's looking at him with an odd expression on his face.
"No. You moved to China during my military service, and took the rest of your clothes there."
"Oh." Minghao doesn't know what else to say, only stares at the clothing in his hands. They smell like Mingyu, who still smells like the Mingyu of five years ago—a smell that can only be described by feelings. Warm. Safe.
"Do you think we can talk more once I wake up?" Minghao hopes his face conveys his hope that Mingyu will open up to him, eventually.
Another sad smile. "Of course."
. . . . .
what am i supposed to tell him? 𝟹:𝟺𝟻ᴘᴍ
𝟹:𝟺𝟾ᴘᴍ ??
𝟹:𝟺𝟾ᴘᴍ the truth?
we told him that we were still together. 𝟹:𝟺𝟿ᴘᴍ
𝟹:𝟺𝟿ᴘᴍ we?
seungcheol-hyung and i. jun-hyung agreed
with us. he said it would be for the
best. 𝟹:𝟻𝟿ᴘᴍ
𝟺:𝟶𝟸ᴘᴍ well.
𝟺:𝟶𝟸ᴘᴍ i can't say i agree with that. at all.
𝟺:𝟶𝟹ᴘᴍ i don't see why you couldn't have told him
from the start that you two were broken up. and
have been for the last three years.
he woke up thinking he was still 25. 𝟺:𝟶𝟹ᴘᴍ
hyung 𝟺:𝟶𝟹ᴘᴍ
his eyes were so bright and hopeful when i
walked into his room. i couldn't bring
myself to tell him that. 𝟺:𝟶𝟺ᴘᴍ
𝟺:𝟶𝟼ᴘᴍ mingyu.
𝟺:𝟶𝟼ᴘᴍ the thing with temporary amnesia is that
his memories are going to come back.
𝟺:𝟶𝟼ᴘᴍ and knowing him, he's not going to be
very happy with the fact that you lied to him
with something extremely major once they do.
just. 𝟺:𝟶𝟽ᴘᴍ
just let me pretend for a little more. 𝟺:𝟶𝟽ᴘᴍ
let me pretend like everything is okay and
he still loves me more than his own
soul. 𝟺:𝟶𝟽ᴘᴍ
𝟺:𝟶𝟽ᴘᴍ you're going to get hurt.
i don't care. 𝟺:𝟷𝟶ᴘᴍ
. . . . .
28 October, 2023
Minghao. My love, my light.
Everyone else has found their own rhythm to follow in these new lives where we no longer function as one team, rather as thirteen individuals. Except for me. There are a lot of things I took for granted when we all still lived together. Brushing my teeth has become unbearably dull without someone to stand next to in front of the sink while making silly faces in the mirror. There's no one to talk to in the morning, no one to share my previous night’s dreams over a mug of hastily prepared coffee.
There's no you.
You, who was always so warm and bright. When we were together, I couldn't imagine a life without you. Yet, here I am now.
Your birthday is approaching, and I wonder what I will do about it. Remember what we did last year? I don't think I'll ever be able to thank Yugyeomie for having managed to rent us a private event room so we could throw you a surprise party in there. If I close my eyes, I still have the mental image of you walking in through the doors, skin shimmering under all the lights. Your eyes found mine almost immediately, and I'm sure a chill went down my spine from how dark and captivating they were, accentuated with eyeliner and decorated with fine glitter. You'd walked over to me, surprised (as was the point), and cornered me, making me feel like trapped prey, your attention solely mine while everyone else could only stare at you.
I was never exaggerating when I said your beauty was endless, that I could stare at you for hours upon end. I was addicted to you, and it scares me to think that I probably still am.
Love,
Mingyu
. . . . .
Minghao dreams of tearful kisses under the covers and whispered declarations of unwavering love.
When he wakes up, chest feeling oddly constricted, he surveys the room around him, unsure of where he is, until he remembers that he's in the bedroom he and Mingyu share. He kicks the covers that are starting to suffocate him, and gets out of the bed. His throat feels incredibly dry, and he's sure that if he were to try to speak, his vocal cords would not be very happy with him.
"Minghao? What are you doing out of bed?" Mingyu's voice catches him by surprise, making him hold on the fridge beside him for some stability. He hadn't noticed the other sitting at the kitchen bar, nursing what seems to be a glass of wine in his hands. Huh.
"Water," he simply croaks. Mingyu gets up immediately, and walks over to a cabinet on the right side of the fridge. He pulls out a water bottle, and hands it wordlessly to Minghao, who finishes it in a matter of seconds.
"Do you want any more?" This is the closest Mingyu has been to Minghao, proximity wise, since their time at the hospital, and Minghao feels his heart flutter.
"No, I'm okay."
"Do you want anything to eat?"
"It's fine. My stomach is still a little upset from all the medicine they gave me at the hospital. Maybe in a few hours... What time is it?"
Mingyu checks his watch. "A little over seven in the evening. You slept for about three hours, in case you wanted to know how long you were out for."
"Oh, thanks."
Thick silence settles around them, and Minghao takes this as his cue to ask for what Mingyu had agreed to do before he took his nap. "Can we talk now?"
Mingyu stares at the floor, and Minghao stares at Mingyu.
"Y-yeah. Let's go to the living room."
Mingyu helps him take a seat at the couch, propping him up with numerous pillows, then takes a seat in one of the loveseats, his body language making it clear that he doesn't want Minghao to curl up with him. The younger's senses are begging him to do just that, although he knows it wouldn't be the wisest decision given the condition that he's in.
"I'm sorry," Minghao apologizes, when it becomes clear that Mingyu isn't going to be the one to talk first.
"Why?"
"I can't imagine what it felt like when you received the call that I'd been in a car accident."
Mingyu studies his face for a long moment. "I didn't know what to think," he confesses quietly. "I honestly thought it was a joke at first, because things like these only ever seem to happen in the dramas I'm in, and also because today's your first day back in Korea after so long in China... a hell of a welcome for you."
Minghao hums in agreement. "Why was Seungcheol-hyung the first to arrive?"
"He lives closer to the hospital you were taken to. I was a little in shock after I received the phone call, so I gave myself some time to recover from it."
"Oh. Right. Time to recover."
"Right."
Minghao wants to cry at how awkward it is to be in the presence of his boyfriend, who seems to be more of a stranger than anything. He decides that maybe he should steer the conversation away from the two of them, and ask about the other members.
"How are the other guys?"
"They're good. I think Seungcheol-hyung told you that we celebrated our 11th anniversary about a month ago, right?"
"Yeah. He also said I wasn't there, and I know I've been out of the country but he made it sound like I make it a habit to miss the anniversary get-togethers... Please tell me I don't, Gyu."
Mingyu seems to tense at Minghao's use of a nickname. "You're a very busy person." The explanation is dry, and all Minghao wants is to demand more information, but he also doesn't want to go back on the little bit of progress he's made with Mingyu so far.
"Am I the busiest of all of us?"
"You're up there."
"So what's everyone else doing?"
"Joshua-hyung moved back to LA and was able to incorporate himself into regular civilian life with no problem—you can tell he doesn't miss this. Seungcheol-hyung, Wonwoo-hyung, Jeonghan-hyung and Vernon stayed in Seoul, surprisingly, but they're all very much attempting to go back to the mundane lifestyle they'd had before. The rest of us decided we liked having the general public dictate the way we live our lives."
"Well that's a fun way of putting it."
Mingyu has changed his seating position during their conversation, now with his legs pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them and his chin resting on top of his knees. He looks so small, and along with the dark circles around his eyes, he looks fragile.
"Can I hug you?"
Mingyu startles, and Minghao curses himself for blurting the words out, but the fact that his chest feels tight makes him want to seek solace in the other. It's odd to not feel comfortable enough to ask his own boyfriend for reassurance.
"Sorry, I just feel really... sad right now, and I'm—"
"—Sure." Mingyu cuts off his rambling and takes him by surprise.
Minghao begins to stand as soon as he hears Mingyu reluctantly agree, which causes the other's eyes to widen. "Wait... I'll come to you." Mingyu makes his way to the couch, moves around some of the pillows, and gathers Minghao into his arms delicately, as though one wrong touch will cause the younger to shatter into many little pieces in his hands.
"Why do you tremble when I touch you?" Minghao asks, lips brushing against Mingyu's collarbone.
"Because you make me feel weak," is Mingyu's hushed answer.
. . . . .
𝟿:𝟷𝟸ᴀᴍ how are you doing so far?
i can't do this. 𝟿:𝟸𝟶ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟸𝟸ᴀᴍ hate to say i told you so...
hyung... it just. it's like whatever higher
power that's up there finally listened to
me when i said all i wanted was for
minghao to come back. 𝟿:𝟸𝟸ᴀᴍ
but i didn't mean it like this! 𝟿:𝟸𝟸ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟸𝟻ᴀᴍ hm...
yesterday, when we were talking after
he woke up from his nap, he asked if
he could hug me. 𝟿:𝟸𝟾ᴀᴍ
i almost cried. 𝟿:𝟸𝟾ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟸𝟾ᴀᴍ did you, though?
no. 𝟿:𝟹𝟶ᴀᴍ
he asked for a kiss before i left for
today's filming. 𝟿:𝟹𝟶ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟹𝟷ᴀᴍ and?
i gave him a kiss on the cheek
because i told him i was
running late. 𝟿:𝟹𝟷ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟹𝟹ᴀᴍ were you?
no... 𝟿:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ
i just really needed to get out of
there. 𝟿:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ
hyung, i really don't know how i'm
going to do this. it's too
hard. 𝟿:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ i mean, the truth?
but what am i supposed to do? 𝟿:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ
what am i supposed to say? 𝟿:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ
"hi, we've been 'broken up' for
the last three years, ever since
you decided to walk out on
me and leave me with so many
unanswered questions?" 𝟿:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ
??? 𝟿:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟹𝟻ᴀᴍ maybe not that... something a
little less blunt, perhaps?
ughhh... 𝟿:𝟹𝟼ᴀᴍ
i gotta go, hyung. naeun-unnie
is at the brink of one of her diva
moments. 𝟿:𝟹𝟼ᴀᴍ
𝟿:𝟹𝟿ᴀᴍ okay.
𝟿:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ think about this minghao situation
a little more, okay?
𝟿:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ i know you can figure it out.
thanks. 𝟿:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ
i hope so. 𝟿:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ
. . . . .
26 December, 2023
My darling Minghao,
And so has passed my first holiday season without you. While I was shopping for presents, I found myself looking at things that I knew you would like, and would have to stop myself from buying any of them. This winter has been the coldest in the last decade. Did you stay warm?
As it gets closer to the New Year, I find myself fretting a lot about my military service. It was, after all the reason why we—you—made the decision that we eventually were going to break up. Sure, the disbandment was tough, and tougher was the fact that we all chose not to renew our contract after eight years of promoting together. We said we were in it for the long run, remember? It was just our luck that we ended up with a company that treated us, as well as our other label mates, as nothing other than money makers. I can't blame Joshua for taking the first plane to LAX he could get. I understand Wonwoo for deciding to swear off all forms of social media.
I can't, however, make sense of why you would decide to leave everything right as were starting to build a future we both wanted together, maybe because you thought it wasn't the right time—I guess I'll never know if that was the case or not. A breakup I can deal with, and I can deal with heartbreak that ensures. I couldn't deal with you sneaking out in the middle of the night, leaving me alone in a bed that still held some of your warmth and the scent of your cologne.
You changed your phone number, so I couldn't call or text you. You blocked me on all social media, so I couldn't reach you through there either. I had to watch from the sidelines as you remade your life, while I continued to struggled to do that with mine. I guess the fact that there's been no rumors of you being romantically involved with anyone makes it a little more bearable.
I don't think anything particularly interesting has happened to me since June... SM signed me as an actor back in August, and Seungcheol-hyung got married to his girlfriend in September. I heard you sent him gifts through Jun-hyung. Haeun-unnie downed one too many flutes of champagne at the reception and confessed that she wished we were still together, just so that she could see us dance together, said that we always moved like one, never thought she'd see the day when we'd function as two. I ran to the bathroom and threw up right after she turned away from me.
I saw Seungkwannie a few days ago. He said I look too thin, that nobody is going to want to cast me in their dramas anymore. I'm sure he meant the last part as a joke, but it made me start thinking. Am I really that undesirable? Is that why you decided you didn't want to be with me anymore? I wish I had you in front of me sometimes, so you could kiss away all of my insecurities.
Yours,
Mingyu
. . . . .
It's been three weeks since the accident, and Minghao still can't tell what the deal with Mingyu is. They share a bed, but sleep on opposite sides of the king sized mattress. They eat breakfast together in the mornings, before Mingyu leaves for a long day of filming for his current drama, but it's quiet and there's no goodbye kiss at the front door.
It doesn't feel real, but Minghao is too scared to ask why.
The closest they ever come to each other is when Mingyu tends to his various cuts and scratches, applying healing ointment and wrapping them back up again with deft fingers. It makes Minghao think of how good Mingyu always was at making him feel so loved with the lightest of touches.
His memories have slowly started to come back, starting with the oldest ones, for which he is grateful. 2022 seems like it was a memorable year, from what he's been able to recover and research for himself so far, and he's a little on edge because he knows it's followed by 2023, the year of Seventeen's disbandment. It's odd, Minghao thinks, to look back at an event that he has no recollection of, but still feels a small fraction of the devastation it must've caused. Most of the memories that have been coming back to him are more trivial—like long conversations at 3 in the morning on the roof of the old dorm building, or going out with friends and trying to hit as many clubs as possible in Gangnam in one night.
A few nights ago, he'd woken up in the middle of the night from a dream where he had been crying as he left a bed that held a peacefully sleeping Mingyu, not looking back at all once he had slipped out of the dorm, pain wrenching his heart. It had confused him greatly at first, because he knew he'd never in a million years leave Mingyu, so he'd resolved that it was future/current Minghao's way of sending him a message. Something like: "don't mess things up with my boyfriend because it'll be me to deal with it".
Is Mingyu still even his boyfriend?
Minghao doesn't think he can handle knowing what happened that has him and Mingyu acting like repelling forces just yet. An ugly feeling always swirls in his stomach when he thinks about how he's eventually going to, and something tells him that the dreams he's been having as of late are there to give hints.
Currently, Minghao is on a mission to look for any sort of photo albums or hidden framed pictures. He's certain that they'll jog his memory, which would be greatly appreciated.
Minghao's past days have involved meeting with his lawyer to discuss the legal action he will be taking against the guy who rear ended his car (and thus set off something like a chain reaction in a busy intersection), going back to the doctor's (such as to get the stitches on his head taken out, or to talk about the vague nightmares he's been having since his accident), and helping Seungcheol out with his baby daughter (Yeojin is a beautiful baby, Minghao can't believe something as perfect as this little human being exists). This all leaves him with very little time to scour his and Mingyu's apartment. Minghao has his suspicions that it's on purpose, the whole "keeping him busy" thing, but he's not bothered by it. He's set to have a lunch with Seokmin sometime soon, once the older finishes with recording for his upcoming album, and given Seokmin's unique sense of humor, Minghao knows he'll have a great time.
Minghao lies on his stomach on the bedroom floor, right arm reaching underneath the bed, searching for something—he just doesn't know what exactly. It's uncomfortable, but it's a little more bearable than it would've been if he had attempted it at the start of his recovery process. Besides, his broken rib is on the left side of his body, so it's not like he's putting direct pressure on it. He hopes Mingyu doesn't suddenly come in and find him like this, not only because he wouldn't know how to explain himself, but because he would probably be in for a major (angry) lecture from the other. The last thing he wants is to regress from the little bit of progress they've made so far.
He hears a muffled creak from somewhere outside the room, stops out of momentary fear, then resumes his searching after deciding that it's probably Mingyu's cat, Ramen. Of the many things Minghao learned about Mingyu over the years, one was that he would place letters and polaroids into shoe boxes labeled and divided by year under his bed. It was easy to do, and required the lowest of maintenance—except for maybe unfolding the letters every so often, just so that they didn't entirely tear. His hand continues to swing back and forth aimlessly under the bed, until his fingers hit something that doesn't feel like bunched-up clothing.
With an excited gasp, Minghao carefully takes out whatever it was he touched, and when it comes into view—a shoebox, just as he had suspected—he starts to take off the lid, when he's abruptly interrupted by the bedroom door swinging open loudly.
"Hey, I thought you were in here. What are you—" Mingyu doesn't finish his sentence, because his eyes immediately notice the box, and he storms in to snatch it out of Minghao's hands.
"Why are you going through my things?" Mingyu's voice is deadly calm, but his eyes reflect what looks like anger, along with a little bit of alarm.
"I promise I didn't open it or read anything that's inside!" Minghao promises, deflates when Mingyu scoffs.
"Look, Minghao, for as much as you could've forgotten, I don't think you forgot how to be a decent human being."
"Well, what else am I supposed to do if you nor anyone else want to answer my questions?"
"The internet exists for a reason, Minghao."
"It doesn't tell you everything, though!"
Minghao is trying his hardest to not cry while staring up at Mingyu from his spot on the floor, but he knows he most likely will. He's never been very good at keeping his emotions in check when he was overwhelmed.
"Why aren't you acting like my boyfriend?" he asks, throat feeling itchy.
He feels momentarily victorious when Mingyu's eyes widen and fill with panic. He grips the shoebox a little tighter and takes a step back. "Uh..."
Something in Minghao snaps then, and he stands up so he can be directly in front of Mingyu, ignoring the dull ache in his side. "Tell me," he demands, as he juts out his chin. "Why are you avoiding me like the plague. I'm not expecting you to be with me every passing moment, but I expect you to at least acknowledge my existence, and to value me as a person. So tell me. Why aren't you acting like my boyfriend? In the last five years did I do something to hurt you?"
There's no response from Mingyu, so Minghao continues, stepping closer, his voice raising in pitch, and sounding more and more shaky. "Did I cheat on you? Did I become some sort of controlling asshole of a boyfriend? Did we break up and are you, along with everyone else, acting like we're still together?"
Mingyu inhales sharply at that.
Minghao feels his heart break.
. . . . .
he knows. 𝟷:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ
he knows the truth now and i don't
know what to do. 𝟷:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ
𝟷:𝟻𝟽ᴀᴍ oh, mingyu...
i've been hiding in the guest room for
the last four hours. 𝟷:𝟻𝟾ᴀᴍ
i swear i can hear minghao crying. 𝟷:𝟻𝟾ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟶𝟹ᴀᴍ did you try to talk about it?
𝟸:𝟶𝟹ᴀᴍ how did he even find out in the first place?
𝟸:𝟶𝟹ᴀᴍ did his memories come back?
no, not those memories at least. 𝟸:𝟶𝟻ᴀᴍ
he was asking me why i've been acting
so weird, and when i couldn't answer,
he just started listing possible reasons
why i'd been acting like this. 𝟸:𝟶𝟻ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟶𝟼ᴀᴍ and he guessed you broke up?
yeah. 𝟸:𝟶𝟼ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟶𝟽ᴀᴍ you didn't answer my question... did you
try to talk about it?
uh. 𝟸:𝟶𝟽ᴀᴍ
i kind of left the room when he figured
it out. 𝟸:𝟶𝟽ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟶𝟿ᴀᴍ ...
𝟸:𝟶𝟿ᴀᴍ mingyu, you ASSHOLE
𝟸:𝟶𝟿ᴀᴍ why would you do that?!
i'm sorry! 𝟸:𝟶𝟿ᴀᴍ
i didn't know what else to do!! 𝟸:𝟷𝟶ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟷𝟹ᴀᴍ YOU COULD'VE COMFORTED HIM!!
𝟸:𝟷𝟹ᴀᴍ mingyu, how would you feel if you woke up
with amnesia, thought everything had stayed the
same, only to find out that nothing hadn't.
i don't know 𝟸:𝟷𝟽ᴀᴍ
be devastated? 𝟸:𝟷𝟽ᴀᴍ
i'm just really scared to see him right
now. 𝟸:𝟷𝟽ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟸𝟹ᴀᴍ just go talk to him.
𝟸:𝟸𝟹ᴀᴍ it's the best option here.
but he doesn't have any context! 𝟸:𝟸𝟺ᴀᴍ
am i just supposed to throw out random
information and expect him to
understand?? 𝟸:𝟸𝟺ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟸𝟻ᴀᴍ be there to guide him.
𝟸:𝟸𝟻ᴀᴍ do for him what you wish he could've
done for you.
𝟸:𝟸𝟻ᴀᴍ you got this.
love you, hyung. 𝟸:𝟸𝟻ᴀᴍ
𝟸:𝟸𝟼ᴀᴍ yeah, yeah.
𝟸:𝟸𝟼ᴀᴍ (me too).
. . . . .
13 July, 2024
Minghao,
It's been a while since I last wrote you a letter. My service started in March, and it's been a lot more time consuming than I initially thought it would be. I guess you were right when you said it would be hard to feel like we were still in a relationship while I was away, but I don't think it would've been enough to have broken us up. We've been through worse, and you know that.
You want to know something? I feel so envious when I see the other soldiers make their phone calls to their significant others. Some of them write letters, and endure the teasing of the others with half-hearted insults and a lovesick smile on their face. I like to think that would also be me. I also like to think that you would send me some, lightly scented with your cologne, the one that I still haven't forgotten, even after a year.
I'm doing my service with Seokmin and Soonyoung. More times than not, I don't feel like I can turn to them. I feel like they still think of me as this sad, broken person, and their eyes always hold some type of pity whenever they look at me. I hate it, but then again, this is what I brought upon myself, and now I have to deal with the consequences.
xo,
Mingyu
. . . . .
Minghao clutches the pillow tight to his chest, feeling the way his sobs rack his body.
From the window in Mingyu's room, he can see the buildings outside glimmering against the indigo sky. It's a beautiful sight, but he can't focus on that when all he can think about is how he's been lied to. Purposefully. He squeezes his eyes shut, and wills for some kind of miracle to happen and for the rest of his memories to come back.
It's of no use. He lets out a noise of frustration, throws the pillow to the other side of the room, and flops back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his face. He stays like that for a few passing moments, before a knock at the bedroom door disrupts him from his wallowing.
"Minghao?" Mingyu's voice is timid, and sounds warbled through the thick wood. "Please let me come in."
It's your room, Minghao wants to retort, but he decides against it, especially since it'd be much harder for Mingyu to hear him from outside. He rolls off the bed, letting out a hiss of pain when he puts weight on his left side, and pads over to the door, greeted by the sight of a puffy eyed Mingyu when he unlocks and opens the door.
"Thanks."
Minghao gives him a tight lipped smile, then retreats back to the bed. Mingyu tentatively follows, picks up the pillow when he stumbles upon it.
"You're finally going to answer my questions?" Minghao asks once Mingyu is settled next to him, drawing patterns into the pillow.
"Yeah, I am."
You should've done that from the start, instead of lying to me, Minghao wants to say, but he wipes away his remaining tears instead. He likes the thought of being the bigger person, and something tells him that so would present/future Minghao. "So? What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Where do you want me to start?"
"I... I want to know why we broke up. I want to know why none of you were willing to tell me the truth and instead had me believing I was living in some sort of perfect future. I want to know what happened that you're so scared to be around me."
"I'm not scared of you," Mingyu starts to protest, but Minghao reaches up to cover his mouth.
"You always tremble when I get close. You shudder when I pull away after I've kissed you. You sigh heavily when I hug you and rest my head on your shoulder."
"Oh. I guess I'm not as good at acting as I thought." Minghao smiles at Mingyu's weak attempt at a joke.
"These are your real feelings, though. That's the main difference."
Mingyu hums in agreement. "I guess you coming back has made me realize that I need to face feelings I've been trying to repress for the last three years."
"Then tell me, Mingyu. I want to know. I want to apologize for all the hurt I've caused you."
"No, you don't have to apologize... But, I'll try my best to explain everything to you."
Minghao takes Mingyu's hands in his, something he'd grown in the habit of doing a little after they'd started dating, as a way of reassuring the other. "I'm listening."
"Okay... Um, I'll start by saying that we never broke up. I—shit, I don't know how to say this without making you seem like a terrible person... So basically, I woke up one morning to your side of the bed empty. None of your clothes were missing, only a backpack of yours. Your phone was out of service, and for nearly a month the rest of the members and I were anxious to know where you'd disappeared to. I still suspect that Jun-hyung knew where you were the whole time, but I never asked, because I was sure you'd left because you didn't want to be with me anymore."
Minghao doesn't know how to feel at the sudden overload of new information. "Continue," he urges, voice hoarse.
"For a few months leading up to that, we'd been casually talking about the future of our relationship a bit. We knew we wouldn't be renewing our contract with Pledis, and we knew that I had my mandatory service in the near future. Nothing ever too serious, though. We took to partying a lot those months, as a way to distract ourselves from what was coming up—not a healthy coping mechanism whatsoever. We started having little arguments during that time with increased frequency, but that was probably the combined result of hangovers, spring allergies, and lack of communication.
"I think it was during those months that I fell in love with you even more."
Minghao squeezes Mingyu's hands. He doesn't trust himself to speak, especially when the older is allowing himself to be so vulnerable.
"You know I never really was one for going out to big events where we were sure to run into people we knew, and ran the risk of being photographed as we tried to sneak back into our dorms at four in the morning. But... it was a life that fit you so well, and I found myself following you without second thought because I wanted to enjoy every possible moment I had with you."
Mingyu pauses to laugh. "I would sit at a couch at whatever club you had dragged us to that night, glued to my phone, not wanting to prevent you from socializing with others or dancing freely. And every single time, without a fail, you would appear in front of me with a smile I would always try to commit to memory, and tell me to put my phone down. You'd then drag me out of my seat and into the middle of the dance floor, where you would move my hands to your waist and whisper into my ear how you wanted me to touch you, to feel you.
"And that was how we would spend our nights and early mornings. We had one last comeback in February that year—the fans didn't know, but we did—but after our promotion period was over, we had from then until June to live as recklessly as possible. But during the day, we would pick fights at the smallest of things, things that had never bothered us before, like socks on the floor or who was responsible for the blanket ending up on the floor each morning. But then, it started getting better, and that made me feel confident that we were okay again."
"But then I left," Minghao says, bitterly.
"But then you left," Mingyu reaffirms. "And so began the worst months of my life. I wasn't able to contact you for a month, and you weren't active on your social media accounts either. It wasn't until Seungcheol-hyung's wedding that I heard something about you, and it was only that you were living in China and starting a career of your own there. I wanted to reach out to you then, but I thought, that with my military service so close, it would be best for me to wait until afterwards. When I came back, the other members told me that you'd come to visit for the 10th anniversary celebration, that you'd asked for me, but I was gone, obviously."
"Oh, Mingyu... I'm so—"
"—Please, please don't try to apologize," Mingyu interrupts, taking his hands out of Minghao's so that he can cup the younger's face. "I'm sure that once your memories come back, I'll be able to get the explanations I've been waiting for. Until then, I will be here for you as a support, something I haven't really been in the last weeks."
Mingyu leans in to press gentle kisses to his eyelids, and something about it feels familiar to Minghao. "I know you asked me to not apologize, but I'm so sorry that I can't explain the reasons for my actions right now. I hope that I will be able to give you the explanations you deserve soon, and until then, you could maybe try to forgive me?"
Minghao can hear his heart beating hard in his chest as he waits for Mingyu's response.
"You're forgiven, Hao. I never was able to find it in myself to hate or hold a grudge against you."
Minghao's eyes fill up with tears at this, and he nods. Everything feels a lot better now that he doesn't have to be carefully studying Mingyu's every move, in an attempt to try to figure out how the other is truly feeling.
"Ready to go to sleep now?"
"Yeah... Could we spoon, maybe?"
"Uh, isn't that moving a little too fast?"
Minghao laughs tearfully at Mingyu's shy tone, leans in to press a soft kiss to his lips, then draws back immediately. "Sorry. I just realized I've been demanding so many kisses from you since I came back from the hospital. It must've been so awkward for you."
"It's okay. I always felt so guilty whenever you did, like I was taking advantage of you, or something."
"Well, you weren't. And I'm sure 30 year old Minghao thinks the same. And to answer your question, I don't think we're moving too fast. I think we're okay. Communication is key, right?"
"Yeah," Mingyu replies, sounding dazed.
It's a whole ordeal, trying to find a position where they can lie together while making sure Minghao is still comfortable. Mingyu almost makes them go back to sleeping on different sides, and Minghao nearly throttles him for that. When they finally are settled, fitting perfectly against each other, Minghao wonders how he could've ever left this.
There's one thing left on his mind, though.
"Mingyu?"
There's a few moments of silence before the other replies, slow with sleep. "Yeah?"
"What was in the box you took out of my hands earlier?"
"Oh... Just things. Sorry for being such a dick about that—I kind of panicked when I saw it in your hands."
"Don't worry, I shouldn't have invaded your privacy like that."
"Mmh. Now sleep. I'll take you to filming tomorrow, if you want. It can be a bigger apology for being so rude to you, if you want to think of it that way."
Minghao nearly squeals at the excitement the words cause in him. "Yeah, that sounds nice. Really nice."
And he falls asleep to the sound of Mingyu's soft breathing, calming and peaceful.
. . . . .
15 February, 2025
This is a waste of paper.
Today would've been our eight year anniversary.
If it weren't for the pictures I haven't been able to delete, I probably would've forgotten so much of your face already.
. . . . .
𝟷𝟶:𝟸𝟾ᴀᴍ i heard you've been going out
with minghao every day this week
𝟷𝟶:𝟸𝟾ᴀᴍ does this mean you talked or?
𝟷𝟶:𝟸𝟿ᴀᴍ
hi jihoonie-hyung !! 𝟷𝟶:𝟸𝟿ᴀᴍ
𝟷𝟶:𝟸𝟿ᴀᴍ oh, hey !! where's gyu?
i don't know !! 𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟶ᴀᴍ
he told me to wait for him in the car
while he got some things. 𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟶ᴀᴍ
𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟸ᴀᴍ ohhh okay then
𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟸ᴀᴍ did you eat breakfast already?
not yet ! 𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟸ᴀᴍ
that's actually where we're headed
to right now, actually :) 𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟹ᴀᴍ
𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟹ᴀᴍ oh
𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟹ᴀᴍ so you two are back to normal
now?
hm i wouldn't say normal but 𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ
:D 𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ
. . . . .
18 November, 2025
I've come to the conclusion that you shined the brightest when you were dancing.
Whether it was on stage or in a dark club, you always knew how to effortlessly command the attention of everyone in the room.
I used to think that one day, when we were both wrinkled and complaining of some type of joint pain, we would look back on this decade that is our 20s with fondness. Maybe even with some envy, because I doubt that we'll be able to drink our body's weight in liquor by then. We'd be living happily in Amsterdam, like we'd planned, surrounded by our children and grandchildren.
I wouldn't be surprised if you found someone new to hold you through the night, to wake you up with kisses all over your face. Do they leave kisses on your eyelids? Do they stay awake a little longer to hear what you talk about in your sleep? Do they let you wake them up right before sunrise, so you can watch as the sun slowly washes over whatever city you're in? Do they fuck you better than I ever did? Whoever they are, I hope they make you very happy.
Mingyu
. . . . .
It's tough, trying to glue together broken fragments of memories.
Some days bring back more bits and pieces of the life he's forgotten than others, and Minghao is always the most irritated on those. He tends to lash out on Mingyu, just because he's the closest—he doesn't understand how the other hasn't thrown in the towel yet. He loves him for that.
They've managed to fall into a life together so easily, and Minghao feels guilty when he thinks about how he and Mingyu could've been having this for the last three years. It doesn't help that Mingyu is so forgiving, so good, so kind.
"What are you thinking about?"
Minghao is interrupted from his thoughts and looks up at Mingyu, whose eyes are fixated on the way his hand that's fiddling with the two rings on his necklace. It's a habit that he has, apparently, because he remembers the way his hand had automatically flown up to them when he'd first gotten into the car with Mingyu, all those weeks ago. They're very pretty, look strikingly similar to engagement rings—he knows Mingyu thinks the same—and he hasn't had the heart to take them off, mostly because he's had them on since he woke up and they bring him a sense of comfort, in an odd kind of way. One thing he knows for sure, though, is that any version of him—present, past, or future—could never go and get engaged to someone who wasn't the love of his life.
Kim Mingyu.
The one who's looking at him expectantly, eyes brimming with curiosity.
"What if my memories never come back?"
He cringes the moment the words come out of his mouth. It feels a lot more real, now that Minghao has confessed his biggest fear. He stops toying with the rings to take his fork back into his hand, uses it to push his fruit around his plate. He's nearing his third month since his accident, and nothing extremely major has happened other than the fact that he's starting to get better with dealing with the anxiety of driving himself around, called his agent back in China to announce an indefinite hiatus due to medical reasons, and has started remembering a few things from his life post-leaving Mingyu.
"Then they don't," Mingyu replies matter-of-factly, taking a sip from the coffee Minghao had prepared him earlier.
"You aren't scared?"
"Of?"
Minghao takes a shuddering breath. "You're not scared that... that this will all end if they do?"
Mingyu sets his mug down. His entire demeanor changes, and now he looks so small, with his shoulders hunched and face blank. Minghao feels horrible.
"I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about that before. I... I wanted to stay away from you at first. Actually, when I showed up at the hospital, the original plan was to tell you the truth. But then, I saw you, looking so fragile, swimming in your hospital gown. Your eyes lit up when you saw me, and God, I can't even put into words how happy your reaction made me, how it seemed to erase all the bad.
"I'd thought up many scenarios for how we'd meet again, and believe me, nothing like this situation we're in had ever crossed my mind, but I took what I got. You were so loving, so sweet the first few days, and I had to keep reminding myself that none of it was real. That's why I insisted on sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. That's why I would turn my head when you leaned in to kiss me..."
Mingyu trails off, still looking down at his lap. Minghao just wishes he could've kept his big mouth shut.
"But somehow, I managed to stop caring that you aren't my Minghao, because I'm not your Mingyu either. We're just two shattered halves of one whole that have managed to find a midway point. And if one of these days, I wake up to find you gone again, I'll know there's nothing I could've done, and that's why I'm going to take as much advantage as I can out of this time I have with you."
Minghao doesn't realize he's crying until he feels a tear drop on his hand. He stares at it for second, then looks back at Mingyu.
"You can't make me cry this easily, it's not fair," he sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Mingyu laughs, then leans over to plant a kiss on his forehead. This is one of the perks of eating next to each other at the kitchen bar, Minghao realized a while ago. He whines when Mingyu pulls away, and the other smirks.
"Just live in the moment, Hao, okay? You always hated being bored, and would always tell me to go, go, and go until I reached my limit. So let's do that."
Minghao simply hums in agreement before lunging at Mingyu to capture his lips in a kiss.
. . . . .
𝟷𝟶:𝟶𝟻ᴀᴍ how's milan?
it's so fucking amazing... 𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ
i can't believe i'm here. with hao. 𝟷𝟷:𝟹𝟺ᴀᴍ
𝟷𝟷:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ well, good morning to you, sunshine.
𝟷𝟷:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ did you just wake up?
yeah. i'm still a little jetlagged 𝟷𝟷:𝟺𝟶ᴀᴍ
𝟷𝟷:𝟺𝟷ᴀᴍ well what else would you expect?
"don't forget to take care of yourself, mingyu" 𝟷𝟷:𝟺𝟸ᴀᴍ
"make sure to apply sunscreen every time you
go out" 𝟷𝟷:𝟺𝟸ᴀᴍ
𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟼ᴀᴍ
stop ignoring me :(( 𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟼ᴀᴍ
but here was the view we had from our hotel balcony
yesterday... isn't it beautiful? 𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟼ᴀᴍ
𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟿ᴀᴍ more beautiful is the fact that you both
finally took the damned anniversary trip
𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟿ᴀᴍ you drove all of us crazy with all the
talking you did about it.
𝟷𝟷:𝟻𝟿ᴀᴍ did you tell him that?
awh, hyung !! :') 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟶ᴘᴍ
i didn't know you had it in you lol 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟶ᴘᴍ
and yes, i did. he almost didn't want to come
anymore when i told him that... said he felt
like a homewrecker haha 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟶ᴘᴍ
𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟷ᴘᴍ yeah, whatever.
𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟷ᴘᴍ what's hao up to?
oh... he's busy right now. 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟷ᴘᴍ
he's in the shower. 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟷ᴘᴍ
;) 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟷ᴘᴍ
𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟸ᴘᴍ oh, god.
you should feel special... instead of joining him,
i decided to stay back to talk to you~ 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟸ᴘᴍ
𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟸ᴘᴍ no one asked you to.
so mean. 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟹ᴘᴍ
talk to you later, i'm about to give my boyfriend
the meanest shower blowjob ever. 𝟷𝟸:𝟶𝟾ᴘᴍ
𝟷𝟸:𝟷𝟷ᴘᴍ MINGYU WHAT THE FUCK
love u, hyungie <3 𝟷:𝟹𝟾ᴘᴍ
. . . . .
15 February, 2026
Dear Minghao,
Our ten year anniversary is would've been in exactly one year.
It's been roughly thirteen years since I met you. Growing up, the couple that lived in the house across the street were known in the neighborhood for having been together since they were thirteen. They passed away the year I met you, and I honestly thought it was some kind of sign. I never told you that because I was scared I would drive you away.
I guess I did that anyways.
Anyways, it's Sunday, and I'm in Los Angeles wrapping up filming for a short indie. This city has gotten uglier over the years—the weight of holding all the broken dreams of the people who've come here with bright eyes and illusioned minds has finally started to show. I remember how much you loved Los Angeles. You never failed to find a way to charm me into accompanying you to explore the city at midnight, always had your phone at hand to capture anything that caught your interest. And I followed you because I loved you. Love you. Still. So damn much.
And I'm sure if you asked me in ten more years, my answer would still be the same.
Yours forever,
Mingyu
. . . . .
The memories of Minghao's leaving and disappearance come back with exploding, vibrant color. Mingyu is there to hold him the entire time.
"—hao... Baby? Can you hear me?"
Minghao is too dazed to focus on the fact that this is the first time Mingyu has used a term of endearment when talking to him, focuses instead on the arms wrapped around him and the worry in his boyfriend's tone.
They are boyfriends, right?
Minghao has a sudden odd feeling of deja vu, so sure he's asked himself that question at least once in the last four months.
"Yeah, I'm okay."
Everything is just happening so fast, and Minghao is only able to process a few bits and pieces here and there. He's proud of himself for making connections between the stories Mingyu has told him and what he's able to see for himself now.
Suddenly, the rings hanging from his necklace makes sense.
"Minghao?"
"I... I remember. I remember! Kind of, not really, but I remember!"
Mingyu's eyes widen, and a bright smile spreads across his face. But just as quickly as it comes, it disappears, and Minghao feels as the other helps him sit down on the chair, then starts to remove his arms.
He's scared, Minghao thinks. Of course he is.
"Wait! H-Hold me. Please." Minghao probably sounds pathetic, but he can't find it in himself to care. "I think I know enough to try to explain now."
"Don't exert yourself too much, though," Minghao chides, reaching up to push some sweat-matted hair back from Minghao's forehead.
"I'm not! I just—". Minghao doesn't let himself finish, instead throws himself into Mingyu's lap so he can kiss him. Desperately, hurriedly, like their time is running out. Because Minghao has learned that time is precious and not to be wasted.
"What was that about?" Mingyu asks, once Minghao has pulled away and is resting his forehead on his shoulder.
"I was so stupid," Minghao whispers.
"Huh?"
And so, Minghao tells him. Tells him how he'd been called in the middle of the night to his hometown, where his mother had fallen terribly sick. He hadn't left Mingyu a note or anything, much less bothered to wake him up, because he knew they'd been missing out on a lot of sleep that entire week. He'd resolved to call him once he was in China and had seen his mother.
Only, that never happened. He lost his phone as he was leaving the airport, was lucky that his father was there waiting for him. He'd get a phone later, he had told himself then. He texted Mingyu that night from his father's phone, explaining everything that had happened.
An answer never came.
"I didn't realize until some three weeks later that it was the wrong number—I've never been that good at memorizing things, and you know that," he tells Mingyu, letting out a snort and shaking his head in disappointment at himself.
He would send a long text to (what he thought was) Mingyu's number every night, always anticipating a response. Eventually, he got fed up with the silence, and took the first train to the main city closest to the small town where his parents lived to purchase a new phone.
"The first thing I was greeted with were the news that you were dating Kim Nari, and I remember thinking that I was too late, that I'd lost you. I think the amount of hurt that I felt at the thought that you could throw away so many years in some weeks was what made me scared. And so, I gave up that easily, further intimidated by how much recognition you were starting to gain as an actor with the scandal—not that I had any doubt you wouldn't."
"Oh, god. That rumor sucked so much—it was Pledis trying to make sure I wasn't going to be contacted by any agencies. They failed, obviously, but I remember hoping you wouldn't happen to come across any of the articles. I guess that didn't happen."
"I texted Jun-hyung after seeing the articles, but I made no mention of you. I told him to promise me to not disclose anything I shared with him with the rest of you, other than telling you all that I was okay."
"Yeah. When you finally came back to social media, you already had your show in China, and I thought, 'why bother to contact him when he's doing so much better off without you?'. I was also totally convinced you had a new boyfriend. You posted a lot of pictures with this one guy."
"Gyu, there's no one else but you."
"How was I supposed to know?" Mingyu cries with exasperation.
"We're so dumb," Minghao giggles, making Mingyu laugh as well.
"Yeah. All of this could've been solved if we'd actually tried to talk to each other from the beginning."
"Definitely... I don't remember it really well yet, but I came to visit while you were doing your service?"
"Oh, apparently you did. I never saw any pictures, and I was too scared to ask why you had been asking for me."
"We're so dumb," Minghao repeats, resting his cheek on his palm. "So, so dumb."
Mingyu sits down on the floor next to him, rests his head in Minghao's lap. "So now what?"
Minghao starts running his fingers through Mingyu's hair. "We finish this delayed anniversary trip in Milan. Make a toast to solved misunderstandings. Make another toast to life threatening car accidents that bring together estranged boyfriends. The usual."
"You're so funny," Mingyu teases.
"Yeah, I know."
Minghao also knows that there's still more he hasn't told Mingyu, but that it can wait. He briefly sees himself talking with a jeweler from Shanghai, discussing the different type of diamond cuts. He remembers crying into his mother's shoulder over how he had possibly lost the best person to ever walk into his heart and get lost there. His three years without Mingyu had been purely accidental, but Minghao feels like they'd also given him time to reflect and think about his future.
I want a future with Mingyu. I always have.
"Do you still love me?" Mingyu asks, disrupting Minghao's thoughts.
"I never stopped," Minghao promises.
"Yeah?"
"I'll love you always and forever."
He can't see Mingyu's face, but the chair he's sitting in faces their balcony, which frames the sight of a breathtaking sunset. A visual reassurance that things were only going to get better from here.
And that, along with the comfortable weight of the rings in between his collarbones and Mingyu's head in his lap, is more than enough for now.
. . . . .
𝟺:𝟶𝟿ᴘᴍ
:) 𝟺:𝟶𝟿ᴘᴍ
𝟺:𝟷𝟻ᴘᴍ wow.
𝟺:𝟷𝟻ᴘᴍ i'm not even upset at the fact that you woke
me up.
aaaa hyung i'm so sorry! 𝟺:𝟷𝟾ᴘᴍ
i just thought you might want to see 𝟺:𝟷𝟾ᴘᴍ
𝟺:𝟷𝟾ᴘᴍ nah, don't be.
𝟺:𝟷𝟿ᴘᴍ so you finally got him back?
almost. 𝟺:𝟸𝟾ᴘᴍ
but i'm not planning on letting him go ever
again. 𝟺:𝟸𝟾ᴘᴍ
i guess this is the universe's way of telling
us we're meant for each other. 𝟺:𝟸𝟾ᴘᴍ
. . . . .
11 June, 2026
Minghao,
There was a time when I needed you just as badly as I depend on oxygen to live. There was a time when the only reason I looked forward to going to bed was because I knew you would be there to hold me through the night. There was a time when my first waking thought was you, because my back would be pressed against your chest more times than not, and I could feel your breath against my neck.
Essentially—there was a time when you were the center of my universe.
Tomorrow marks three years since I last saw you. I was reading through the first of my letters earlier, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. For the longest time, I thought it was hate I felt towards you, but now I know that it never was that. Only betrayal. You said I deserved everything and promised me forever.
You didn’t keep that promise. Among the last things you promised me was an anniversary trip to Milan and your endless devotion. I got neither.
However, this isn’t a letter of resentment. No, it’s a letter of closure. This is the last letter I’ll ever write you, not that you’ll ever read them. It isn't healthy to be writing letters to someone who I'm trying so desperately to get over—someone I haven't gotten over in three years. I guess this was the universe’s way of saying we weren’t meant for each other.
Love,
Mingyu
.
.
.
Mingyu’s eyes fluttered at the sensation of fingers tracing over the features of his face. He was spent, breathing still slightly labored and sweat soaking into the threadbare sheets underneath him. He didn't want to think of how likely it was that they weren't properly washed after someone's stay. No, he wanted to think about how gentle Minghao's fingers felt, how in love he knew he was, how he was certain he'd never feel this way about anyone else ever again.
“In another universe, I can kiss you much as I want in public.” Minghao’s words disrupted the quiet.
“You’d still pick me, even in another universe?” Mingyu’s voice came out small, as if he couldn’t believe his boyfriend’s words.
“Even if there were an infinite amount of universes, I would still want you in every single one.”