𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗡𝗚 | 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗁𝗈

act i.i

[🌿]
The meeting

It was night, quiet, dark but lit up with street lights that not-very periodically flickered. People were returning to their homes, where they had dear ones waiting for them and amongst that same mob Minho was eagerly waiting to reach home.

He held carrybags, a quarter his weight. Grocery shopping, now he had to return home carrying all of them on his own. Walking and weightlifting, surely was energy draining.

His phone rung; he had to pick up the call and he struggled to reach his phone.A man walked towards him. A stranger it was who came to him, tapped his shoulders giving a small bow and held all his bags. Sliding to the side as he stood waiting for him to pick the call. He bowed to him, a gesture of gratitude for the stranger.

He received his call.

"Is this the guardian of-" Minho cut the call, the very second he answered. He was laughing, Was this a joke ? His hands tightly gripping the screen. Shocked was an understatement to his situation.

He sat on the asphalt, hitting it, lost in unendless thoughts. He knew this would happen. Obviously because he was a coward.

The stranger poked a finger on his forehead.

"Are you alright ?" A voice reached out to him; rough as it was, it was the only comfort to him. How desperate he was that even the words of the unknown seemed to embrace him warmer than the known.

"Y-yeah thank you very much for your help" he said bowing his head again. The other chuckled.

"It's alright, it's my duty as a well brought up civilian." You could hear him smile even when he spoke. He was living a blessing; he thought.

He looked up to him, this stranger only had his eyes glistening in the dark, all was hazy in the dark. He noticed though;

The stranger couldn't look into his eyes.

"Well then I shall leave. " The stranger bowed again, heading off the opposite direction.

"W-wait. May I know your name ?"

"Sam." he smiled, Minho smiled back.

He then ran , barely even making the threshold of his apartment he threw his bags. He wanted to puke, his legs were shaking; numb and weak. He was shivering and crying. But he still ran, ran back a long distance till he reached where his mind was stuck at.

He dragged his feet to reach the hospital. Once we standing head to head, he chuckled; he bit his lips, held back tears and entered.

The elevators were closed. So he ran again, limp and giddy, he kept on. His sanity was a millimetre away from snapping.

His frantic self barely remembered the room he was to enter, so pushed door after door with his tired figure. The far end he reached and opened the door. If angels co-existed with humans, he surely knew the lady there would be one of them. There she slept on her bed, smiling at him with her hair splayed about. He was an emotional wreck a second ago and with just a glimpse of her smile he felt his small world slowly coming back.

He walked to his grandmother's side, sitting next to her. He smiled.

"Seems I lost." She said, her voice so faint it was a whisper.

"Look whose the loser now." He hugged her neck tightly, burying his head in the pillow the same way he did when he was just a kid.

She spoke no words, she only pet his head. As time passed small sobs grew louder, he was wailing. Minho was powerless, he was vulnerable, he was weak.