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Summary
His stomach heaves. Jisung grabs his wrist. Minho yanks it away, throwing up into the fern in the foyer. Felix lets out a cry of disbelief somewhere down the hall.
“Hey, are you okay?” Jisung ducks his head as he pushes Minho’s hair off of his face, trying to catch his eye.
Minho shakes his head with his eyebrows drawn together. His chest hurts and his mouth tastes like shit and he can’t fucking believe Jisung is really here. “I thought you were a New Yorker now.”
“My mom wanted me home for Christmas,” he says quietly. “I couldn’t keep missing it.”
Good for her, he thinks bitterly. He throws up again.