Always, Yours.|| Hyunho

Chapter 1

Kim Seungmin is one clever fucker. I probably would have seen it coming if I hadn't been so blindsided by Jisung. But as I watch him now, round sparkly eyes filled with what can only be love as he's looking at his boyfriend, I realise just how naive I was in believing no one would make a move on my Minho after our breakup. Jisung and Felix started dating not even a month after it happened, giving clarity to many dumb assumptions I'd made, which finally led to this. Him tagging around EVERYWHERE Minho goes. 

This is worse than whatever I'd experienced because of Jisung. So much worse. Unlike him, Kim Seungmin does not give a shit about the fact that I was in love with the man he's clearly trying to get for himself. Nor does he care if I'm still in love with him. It's not that I made it obvious by glaring holes into his back every time they sat together in classes, making my... is he still even mine? He can't not be mine.....right? Yeah, he's still mine. Kim Seungmin can try all he wants, make him laugh, smile, or even take him out once. But in the end, Lee Minho is still just as mine, as I'm his. 

*****

It's 4:30 AM. I should really go back to bed now, I think, as I give a final touch to the 16th painting I've created of him. He always looks like the most stunning work of art, even in a museum filled with masterpieces. But tonight, his beauty was unmatched, even with his own, as he smiled at me, eyes filled with so much love, just for me. All for me. Waking up from the dream was a nightmare. Realizing that it was all just a figment of my subconscious imagination. A gibe at my foolish decision. Stupid insecurities. As I scrutinize the painting again, I know that nothing I create could ever even compare to the sight he is. Trying to imitate that beauty on paper was nothing but a futile attempt at trying to keep that one remaining strand connecting myself with sanity.

But then again, it was still prettier than anything that was not Lee Minho. So I kept staring at it. I've never shown these to anyone. No one even knows that I like to draw, not even Minho. I know he'd never have judged me. But I still did not want to know if he disliked my paintings. Now, though, I have the sudden urge to show him each and every single artwork I've ever created. And observe his reaction to them, the raw emotions on his face as he judges them, titling his pretty head just slightly, cat eyes narrowing in concentration. I miss him. So much.

*

Slipping a painting inside someone's locker is just as easy as falling for Minho, done before you even know it, effortless. I decided to opt for subtlety and chose a painting of yellow hyacinths I'd ended creating while thinking of him. The language of flowers has always been an interesting subject of study for me as a hopeless romantic. Just like the character of a human, various people have their own takes on the matter. The same flower that represents joy and positive emotions to one person can be the symbol of sorrow or grief for another. Some interpret the message of a flower based on its color, others by its genus. While some decide to delve deeper into their language to understand what that specific flower is trying to say.

To the clueless people, the hyacinth is just a simple painting 'some admirer' must've slipped in Minho's locker to convey positive emotions, yellow is a happy colour. I don't mind that though. I'll teach my Minho the language of flowers over time. Which is why the moment he reaches home after spending the entire day puzzling about the flowers and their anonymous sender, he receives a text from an Unknown number:

"The yellow hyacinth can represent jealousy and envy, particularly due to the color yellow. In addition to jealousy, it can also symbolize feelings of disappointment or regret. I hope you liked the painting, Lee Minho.
Always, Yours."

"Who are you?"

His immediate response makes me smile even more. He had been anticipating a message, it seems. I don't give him a reply, instead, just stare at the message from him for another whole minute before I remember I still have assignments to do. I need to make sure no one realizes that I'm Minho's 'admirer'. For that, keeping the normalcy façade is going to require no sudden fall in my grades, no missing classes, and of course, I need to ensure that no dark circles try to ruin my face. 

So I put the burner phone back in my bedside drawer and take out my books, still with a smile on my face, as I try to resist telling him who I am. But then my smile drops again as my brain nags me with the question, "Who am I?"  His ex-lover? Ex-boyfriend? Ex-friend? Admirer? 

But then I start smiling again as I remember, no matter what I am, in the end, whatever I am, is his. I'm his. And he's mine. 

Just mine.

*****

Okay so first of all, thank you so fucking much. To every single person who took their time to read this *whatever this is...* I had not expected more than 2 or 3 people to even read it! So the encouragement I've received from you guys was just wtdgjhuwy.

The encouragement and compliments for the previous chapter motivated me to update way earlier than I'd ever planned to. But now I'm kinda even more nervous about how this one is, 'cause I really have no idea if it's good, or if I ruined it. Please tell me honestLee what you think of it. Remember that constructive criticism is always appreciated! 

I hope I did not disappoint anyone with this update. If it was disappointing, I'm sorry it didn't live up to your expectations! I sincerely am.

OH, AND. For the painting Hyunjin slipped in Minho's locker. Imagine the painting of a yellow with the faintest and thinnest hints of red at just some places, and lots of green leaves, really very green leaves. The area not covered by the yellow hyacinths is totally covered by the green leaves, the shade of envy.
(Had to specify this as I could not find a single painting even close to what I visualized it as).