Minho's room was a sanctuary of his usual chaos, clothes strewn across the floor, books piled haphazardly on his desk. He was sprawled across his bed, the covers half-twisted around his legs, his face contorted in a mask of frustration. "Ah! Why am I still feeling terrible?! I don't care about his behaviour towards me!" he groaned, the words a bitter expulsion of air. His gaze flickered away from the ceiling, landing on the window, where the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room. A storm brewed in his eyes, a mixture of annoyance and something else, something he couldn't quite name.
A flicker of doubt then crossed his features, and he mumbled, "I don't care about him, right?" The question was barely audible, a hesitant whisper lost in the quiet room. He quickly averted his gaze, as if ashamed of the vulnerability he had shown. He then snapped his eyes back to the ceiling, as if to reinforce his own conviction. "YES! THAT'S RIGHT!" he declared sharply, his voice gaining strength. "I can't believe how rude he was. On second thought, I feel bad not because of his attitude but about wasting time on his present-" His words died in his throat.
He shot up in bed, his eyes wide with sudden realisation, a look of pure shock spreading across his face. "THE PRESENT! It's still in his room!" he exclaimed, the words a sudden burst of energy. He scrambled off the bed, his feet hitting the cold floor as he lunged for the door. His hand reached out, fingers wrapping around the cool metal of the doorknob, but then he froze. A thought, a sudden wave of dread, washed over him. "Wait. He probably already saw it... Agh! I am so stupid!" he groaned, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
He whirled around, anger twisting his features into a grimace. "How could I let this happen?! It's so embarrassing!" he shouted, the words echoing in the small room. He then collapsed back onto the bed, his body sinking into the soft mattress. He stared at the ceiling, the details of the room fading as his thoughts swirled. "I just won't mention it... he probably won't too." he murmured, the words a quiet plea, a desperate attempt to erase the memory of his actions.
The weight of the day settled upon Minho as he lay in bed, the echoes of his earlier exchange with Seo-Jun fading into the background. "I wonder how the team is doing?" he mused, the thought a gentle tug at his consciousness. His hand reached for his phone, the familiar weight grounding him, "I haven't texted Jin in a while… he hasn't texted me either..."
He set his phone aside, a silent hope filling the space between them. "I hope everything is alright there." With a final, unspoken wish, he closed his eyes, the world dissolving as sleep claimed him, unaware of the storm brewing elsewhere.
In the heart of Phoenix's mansion, a different kind of tension was building, fuelled by Seo-Jun and his connection to the ongoing mission. Jae found himself increasingly frustrated. For days, he'd subtly probed Jin, seeking information about Minho, information that was crucial to their operation. But the data, the vital pieces of the puzzle they needed, remained elusive. Jae didn't care about Minho, but the lack of information was a problem. His patience was wearing thin.
In Jae's office, a room that spoke of power and precision, the air crackled with unspoken words. Jae sat behind his imposing desk, the lines of his face etched with a familiar intensity. Across from him stood Jin, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed on Jae, as if bracing for an oncoming storm. The weight of their mission, the secrets they carried, hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the peaceful slumber of Minho.
Jae's voice, a low growl in the confined space of the office, cut through the silence. "Do we have anything new from Minho those past few days?" Jin hesitated, his gaze drifting away as if seeking answers in the shadows. "No. Apart from him joining Seo-Jun's motorcycle team, we have nothing more." The words hung in the air, heavy with concern and disappointment. Jae's face remained a mask of stone, devoid of any discernible emotion. He rose from his chair, the action deliberate, as he smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket. "I see. He is doing this job too slowly. I will think of another way to get what we want."
Jin flinched at Jae's words, a surge of anger coursing through him at the perceived injustice of the situation. "He is doing his best! You can at least give him more time." His voice, though still controlled, betrayed the tension that simmered beneath the surface. Jae moved closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I have given him more than enough time. I will get the matters into my own hands." He offered a firm pat on Jin's shoulder, a gesture that held both reassurance and a silent warning, and turned to leave.
But Jin, unable to contain his mounting frustration any longer, spoke, his voice low but steady, "Two weeks." Jae paused, his hand on the door, but did not turn. Jin not facing him, his eyes blazing with a mixture of defiance and desperation. "Give him two more weeks and then do your plan." A slow smirk played on Jae's lips, though he remained facing away. "You really care about him, don't you? Two weeks it is." With that, he vanished through the door, leaving Jin alone in the echoing office. Jin, once Jae left, grabbed his phone, concerned, and said "I have to warn Minho about this!"
The dawn arrived with a rush, the aftermath of the previous night's events still echoing in the grand halls of Phoenix's mansion and the more modest confines of Seo-Jun's home. In the kitchen, Minho was a flurry of controlled activity. The sizzle of bacon, the gentle hiss of eggs in the pan, and the fragrant steam from freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Lily, perched on a high stool at the dining table, was a study in contrasts, her attention seemingly absorbed by the glowing screen of her phone, yet her presence a comforting anchor for Minho's morning routine.
Then Seo-Jun entered. He was a vision of controlled power, clad in a dark blue suit that seemed to absorb the morning light. But it wasn't just the suit; there was a change in him. The usual lines of discontent around his mouth were softened, replaced by an almost unsettling tranquility. A flicker of something akin to happiness danced in his eyes, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had swirled within him the night before. As he stepped into the kitchen, a greeting formed on his lips, "Hey Tiny, about t—" But before the words could fully escape, Minho reacted. A visible flinch, a sharp intake of breath, and then the abrupt interruption. "The breakfast is ready, sir! Please, excuse me!"
With a speed that belied his usual composure, Minho made his exit, his footsteps echoing as he retreated. His mind raced, a chaotic mix of relief and panic. "Shit, he was going to ask about the present! Thank god, I walked out in time. Now, I must ignore the topic at all costs."
Seo-Jun stood frozen, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air, a question mark etched on his face. Lily raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. "Wow, he totally ignored you. What did you do this time?" she asked, her voice a blend of amusement and genuine curiosity. Seo-Jun looked at her, a mask of confusion and annoyance quickly settling over his features. "What?! I didn't do anything. He's just being moody again." With a dismissive wave of his hand, he reached for the breakfast spread on the counter, deftly arranging the plates before him and Lily, pointedly leaving Minho's untouched. He settled into his chair, the clinking of silverware against ceramic the only sound as he began to eat. But Lily's gaze remained fixed on him, her expression a mixture of suspicion and something akin to pity.
"Maybe you said something to him, and that's why he's upset." she ventured, her voice soft, almost hesitant. Seo-Jun met her gaze, his own expression hardening. "I didn't say anything to him." he stated, his voice low and firm. Lily, however, refused to back down. Leaning forward, her eyes narrowed, she pressed on, "Sometimes you can't realise the meaning of your words. You should be more gentle with your partner, you know?"
Seo-Jun stopped eating, his jaw clenching. He looked at her, his voice sharp and laced with a hint of steel. "First of all, he is not my partner, and second, the last thing I said to him last night was that I was going to bed." Lily leaned back, her brow furrowed in thought, the gears in her mind clearly turning. A moment of silence hung in the air before her eyes widened, recognition dawning. "Hmm..." she murmured, then, with a sudden snap of realisation, "Hey, what about the present he gave you last night?!"
Seo-Jun offered no response, his face a carefully constructed blank canvas as he continued to eat. Lily stared at him, her initial suspicion morphing into shock and then, a white-hot anger. She rose from her chair, her voice low and cold, each word a calculated strike. "What did you do?" she demanded, her voice rising with each syllable. "You threw it away, didn't you?" Seo-Jun sighed, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. His gaze locked onto Lily, who stood defiant, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "Enough with this childish nonsense, Lily. Sit and eat your breakfast." he commanded, his voice laced with a weariness that hinted at a deeper frustration.
Lily's shoulders slumped slightly, a sign of her momentary defeat. She moved towards her seat, her movements slow and deliberate, as if each step was a battle won. With a dramatic flourish, she settled into her chair, grabbing her fork with a determined grip. "Fine." she conceded, her voice a low murmur. "But you should at least respect him, he is a human too. He has feelings, you know? Be more gentle, kiss him more often or do something special for him from time to time. He will definitely appreciate it."
As Lily spoke, a single word hung in the air, a verbal landmine that detonated in Seo-Jun's mind. "Kiss him?" he repeated, his voice a low growl, the fork halfway to his mouth. The clatter of Lily's fork hitting the table echoed the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Lily's eyes widened, her initial annoyance morphing into shock and then a simmering anger. "Seo-Jun... have you ever kissed Minho?" she asked, her voice dangerously low, the words laced with a patience that was rapidly running out. Seo-Jun shrugged, his expression nonchalant, as if the question was of little consequence. "He kissed me once." he replied, and then, as if the earth hadn't just shifted beneath their feet, he returned to his breakfast.
Lily's voice, sharp and accusatory, sliced through the quiet. "Are you kidding me?! You have never kissed him?! But you have been sex buddies for the past, what, 2 months or so!" Her words, laced with disbelief and a hint of anger, hung in the air, demanding a response. Seo-Jun, seemingly unfazed, remained motionless. "This does not have anything to do with having sex. Besides, kissing is simply a distraction from the main purpose." he said, his voice a low, indifferent murmur that barely registered above the gentle hum of the refrigerator.
Lily's face crumpled, her expression a mixture of exasperation and a deep, almost painful pity. "I am honestly surprised how he puts up with you most of the time. If you were my boyfriend, you would already be out on the street." she said, her voice laced with a weary resignation. The words seemed to hang in the air, a testament to her frustration. Seo-Jun remained unmoved, his silence a wall, his body language conveying a complete lack of interest in her words. But Lily, fuelled by concern and frustration, refused to let it go. "Haven't you ever thought that, maybe, he would want to be kissed during sex?! And he might enjoy it more that way."
Seo-Jun's silence was a tangible thing, a clear indication of his detachment. Lily's words seemed to bounce off him, unable to penetrate the carefully constructed barrier he had erected. Her voice softened, a plea for him to understand, "What I am trying to say is that you should try kissing him, he might really like it, so do you." Seo-Jun finally reacted, his eyes rolling in a gesture of profound weariness. "Whatever." he muttered, his tone flat, effectively ending the conversation. Lily sighed, the sound a puff of air that carried with it the weight of her disappointment, and turned her attention to her breakfast, the unspoken words still echoing in the room.