One Bullet Left / Minsung ??

Lee Minho's POV

My phone buzzed on the bedside table, a new message notification flashing on the screen. I picked it up, a small pang of worry in my chest.
When I read the message, a frown crossed my face. It was from Jisung. What could he want? I hesitated for a moment before responding, my fingers tapping out a reply.

“What is it?”

I sent the text, my heart beating a little faster than I'd like to admit.

I waited for a reply, my mind racing with questions. Why was Jisung texting me? And why was it important?
Just as I was about to put my phone down, it buzzed again with a new message from Jisung. I opened it, my eyes scanning the words.

“I need to see you,” Jisung's text read. “Please, it's urgent.”

I stared at the message, my mind churning with conflicting thoughts. I glanced at the clock, the late hour glaring back at me. My first instinct was to refuse, but something in Jisung's tone made me hesitate.
I slowly typed out a response, careful with my words.

“Now? It's late.”

I hit send, my heart in a conflicted battle. A part of me wanted to just ignore Jisung, tell him to bugger off. But it was the "Please" in Jisung's message that made me pause. Something was different about this, it seemed serious.

“Fine,” I finally typed back. “But where?”

I waited for a response, anxiously drumming my fingers against the side of my phone. The silence from Jisung's side was making me uneasy, but I refused to show it.
Just as I was about to put the phone down, a reply came through.

“My place,” Jisung's text read. “As soon as you can.”

I took a deep breath, my mind still wrestling with my hesitation, but my body on autopilot. Autopilot won.
I quickly threw on a hoodie and stepped out into the night, the cold air hitting my face. I started jogging, my mind a jumble of uncertainty and inexplicable worry.
The streets were quiet, the only sound being the echoes of my steps as I made my way towards Jisung's place.

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

Han Jisung's POV

I waited anxiously, my heart beating like a war drum in my chest. Every passing moment felt like an eternity.
Finally, a knock on the door broke the silence. My breath hitched, my hand going to the doorknob to open it.
When I saw Minho standing there, something within me loosened, relief washing over me. “You came,” I whispered, the words barely audible.

Minho's eyes were guarded as he stepped into the room, the tension between us palpable. He looked me up and down, his gaze assessing.
“Alright,” Minho said, his voice gruff. “What's so important that you dragged me here in the middle of the night?”

I felt a pang of anxiety under Minho's gaze. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice.
“I...” I started, then stopped. How did I even begin to explain?
“Before I say anything,” I began again, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Promise me you'll just listen, okay? Don't react, just... listen.”

I spoke, explaining everything I knew: Hyunjin's overheard conversation, the potential danger Minho was facing.
Throughout it all, Minho's expression remained stoic, his eyes betraying nothing. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, and I couldn't decide if that was better or worse. Every word I spoke seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implication.
Finally, I finished, waiting for Minho's reaction. Any reaction.

I braced myself, expecting anger, disbelief, anything other than what I got.
When Minho's response came, it was the last thing I expected.
“You did good, Jisung,” he said, his voice soft. He placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle.
My eyes widened. Was Minho... being nice to me? I blinked, feeling as if I'd fallen into some bizarre parallel universe, because Minho was not just being nice, he was... comforting me.

I stood there, stunned. The gentle pressure of Minho's hand on my shoulder grounded me, bringing me back to reality.
“I... what?” I stuttered, my mind struggling to process the unexpected reaction.
Minho chuckled, the sound low and oddly soothing. “You heard me,” he said, his voice still uncharacteristically soft. “You did the right thing, telling me. Thanks.”
My heart fluttered, something warm blossoming in my chest.

As the tension in the room began to ease, Minho pulled his hand back, stuffing them into the pockets of his hoodie instead.
“It's late,” he said, his eyes darting around the room. “You mind if I crash here for the night?”
I was taken aback once again. Minho, staying at my place? This was definitely a day of strange twists.
I managed to nod, my voice catching in my throat.

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩

Lee Minho's POV

Minutes ago, I would have been horrified at the thought of staying at Jisung's place. Now here I was, asking to do just that.
A part of me was still struggling to understand what was happening. I'd been so sure that Jisung had texted me with some petty grievance or another, so why was he helping me? And that look in Jisung's eyes... it was almost like he was worried for me. The thought stirred something in my chest, a strange, unfamiliar feeling.

My mind was a maelstrom of confusion and surprise. I glanced at Jisung, taking in his bewildered expression. It was a look I was familiar with, but in this situation, it felt different, somehow.
“You look like a fish out of water,” I grumbled, the words coming out more gently than I intended.
Jisung snapped out of his daze, his cheeks heating up. “S-Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide a smile.

I fought back a smirk, enjoying the flustered look on Jisung's face. It was almost... cute, the way he was reacting.
I made a mental note to tease Jisung about it later, but for now, the late hour weighed heavily on me.
“I'm gonna take the couch,” I told Jisung, trying to sound casual. “Unless you have a better idea?”

Jisung's eyes widened. “The couch?” he echoed, a note of surprise in his voice. I rolled my eyes, my usual sarcasm surfacing.
“Unless you want me to sleep on the floor,” I shot back. “Or in your bed. Your pick.”
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. My mind went blank as I realized what I had just said. Had I just... joked about sharing a bed with Jisung? The mortified expression on Jisung's face was priceless.

I internally facepalmed myself. I'd just jokingly suggested sharing a bed with Jisung. What was wrong with me tonight?
Trying to backtrack, I quickly added, “Relax, I'm kidding. I'll take the couch.”

The tension in the room was thick, the air charged with the unaddressed comment. I could see the flush in Jisung's ears, a clear sign that he was as flustered as I felt.

Jisung finally found his voice, clearing his throat before stammering, “Right. Yeah. Couch. You... uh, you can borrow some of my pajamas. If you want.”
I tried to hide my surprise. Jisung was offering me his pajamas? This night was just getting weirder and weirder.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, watching as Jisung scurried off to get the clothes. I let out a shaky breath, wondering what else this night had in store for me.

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩