I'm Rooting for you

Part 3

Minho shuffled through the crowded university corridors, a stack of textbooks weighing heavily

in his arms. The consistent buzzing of students filled the air, punctuated by the occasional laughter and chatter. As he passed by familiar face after familiar face, Minho offered polite nods and half-hearted attempts at smiles, his mind preoccupied with the looming deadlines and upcoming practice game.

With a sigh, Minho finally reached the end of the hallway and pushed open the glass doors leading out into the crisp air. The clamorous energy of the campus faded behind him as he made his way towards the nearby cafe, a haven of warmth and caffeine beckoning him like a much-needed beacon.

Entering the cozy cafe, Minho was greeted by the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversations. He made his way to the counter, exchanging pleasantries with the barista as he placed his order for a much-needed espresso.

"You look familiar! Have I seen you here before?" The barista was blonde, sporting uncommon freckles across his porcelain skin. His deep voice was a stark contrast to his small figure and seemingly bright personality.

Minho muttered out a hum of confirmation. He'd seen the barista, but had never actually had his order taken from him.

"Awesome! What's your name? I'll remember your order for next time." He smiled and tilted his head with wide, radiant eyes.

"Minho." Normally people didn't talk to him at this cafe. They had gathered that he was more on the quiet side. He wasn't used to someone with a friendly personality trying to avidly communicate with him.

"Minho! Nice. I'm Felix, in case you need anything or I see you again."

If the smiley face emoji was a person- it'd probably be this guy. Just that small interaction was so unexpected, it made his day just a little better and his thoughts just a little less saddening.

As he waited for his drink, Minho's gaze wandered around the cafe, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons seated at the tables. And then, amidst the sea of faces, his eyes landed on a figure that stood out from the rest.

There, seated at a corner table, was a boy with medium-length silver hair, his black glasses perched on his nose as he flipped through the pages of a book. The soft glow of the cafe lights cast a warm halo around him, accentuating the subtle curve of his cute, chubby cheeks and the gentle slope of his shoulders.

As Minho's order was called, he tore his gaze away from the boy and collected his iced americano, the cool temperature of the cup seeping into his fingers. With a final glance towards the corner table, Minho made his way over to an empty seat by the window, his thoughts lingering on the silver-haired student, his sweet, unexpected encounter with a stranger, and the frustrating possibility of his only close friend no longer being a constant in his life.

🐾

When Friday's game came, Minho was gearing up when he was hit with the sudden realization that his mascot-friend-crush would no longer be there. If anyone was there, in costume, it wouldn't be him. If the game went poorly, and Minho let his anxiety get the best of him, he would no longer have his comfort person to talk to at the end of it, and that was a lot to deal with, internally.

He didn't want to play.

Halfway through the game, they took their normal break, and Minho went to grab water. He gazed over the crowd of onlookers, unsure why he bothered. Even if the boy were there- he wouldn't recognize him. He wouldn't know. They were up by several points, so Minho was confident in his ability to power through and get the game over with, but he still felt... empty.