Truly Yours • Kim Mingyu

[Finale]

Miyeon's POV:

I never thought there'll come a time in my life where I'll have to cloak my angst with layers of unrealistic sarcasm. Sounds unbearably moronic, but I can't let that compressed piece of trash assume that I'm scared of her commination either. So, here it goes.

"Yeah yeah, don't call me to pay your hospital bills if your neck hurts the next morning. And get a hair treatment for fuck's sake. Your hair is so rough Madam, my hands are literally itching."

Sike.

Her hair is like velvet. What did I just say?

I peek at the scene of destruction and my nose scrunches up in the air straight away. "God, how much makeup does she put on? It's all over the desk." I say underneath my breath, more disappointed than I expected I'd be.

I turn around and shift all my attention on Mingyu this time. He is frozen in his spot. I wave a hand before him, but he has no reaction. He's just, still.

"Mingyu? Hey, Mingyu!" I call louder and nudge his shoulders.

He flinches. "Oh, y-yeah. Yeah. I didn't get you. What did you say?" He stammers. "Are you okay?"

"I am . . . but you don't seem okay." He looks traumatized.

All this affected him more than it did to me. Trepidation is brimming behind those dark orbs of his. I can feel it by the way he is biting his nails and cold sweats are dripping from his forehead.

It's as if she planted a vision in his mind, a very atrocious vision. I can't deny that I don't carry parts of that vision within myself as well, it's impossible not to. The look in her eyes is just indeliable.

However, mine's occluded with a dense murk of negation and other thoughts. While his is clear; apparent. I can't figure out how I can divert him off of it. It's bugging me too.

"Hey, you wanna get out of here? A long drive sounds good, what you say?" I remark. It's not probably the best idea, but one thing I know for certain is that he needs me now, and I need him.

"You sure?" He contemplates, pretending to scratch his head. "We won't make it back in time . . . "

"Oh, we won't make it back before midnight."

"I know . . . that's why I'm asking. Won't your brother get like super ultra max pro angry?"

"Let him get a little angry. What'll happen at most? He'll yell for a few minutes, maybe an hour, send me to my room, then go back to watching Money Heist like a loyal Netflix binger with his cuddle buddy. I think I can handle that."

He doesn't say anything after, only gives me a lethargic nod and disappears somewhere in the gulf of his own thoughts.

***

"I think it's better if I drive." I suggest as we are riding the elevator, heading down to the parking lot.

Readily, he agrees. "I think so too. I really want to go, but I don't feel like driving at all."

"I understand. It's okay, I'll do it," I smile and bring out my hand, gesturing him to pass me the keys. "Let's go waste some gas and end up in the middle of nowhere, just to find out how beautiful the sky is tonight and how perfect we're for each other."

He chuckles, at last. "Sounds like an adventure."

"You bet."

With that, we set out far away from all the gruelling events we've had to deal with today; our hands entwined so tightly, as if we're seeking a desperate escape from reality, while millions of coruscating stars and one sublime crescent moon, who had witnessed centuries and millennia just the same, watch over this tiny, extremely precious and cathartic moment we share with each other.