Jisung never really liked silence.
It was too loud.
He was used to chaos—the studio speakers humming, Chan hyung's fingers tapping on the desk, the constant chatter and footsteps in the dorm. Noise meant life. It meant everything was okay. But now, lying in his room, the silence clawed at him, wrapping around his throat like a vice.
His heart was racing.
Faster than usual.
Too fast.
He sat up in bed, grabbing at the sheets, gasping like he couldn't get enough air even though his lungs were full.
He hated this.
This feeling.
Like drowning with no water.
And worse, he didn't want anyone to see him like this. Especially not Minho.
He wiped at his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but the harder he tried, the more it slipped from his grasp. His vision blurred, and his chest ached. His mind spiraled with thoughts he couldn't quiet.
You're a burden.
They're tired of you.
Why can't you be normal for once?
A knock at the door startled him. His breath hitched.
"Jisung?"
Of course it was Minho.
Of all people.
The one person he didn't want to worry.
He tried to say I'm fine, but it came out as a broken whisper.
"Can I come in?" Minho asked, voice gentler now. When there was no reply, the door creaked open slowly. He peeked in—eyes immediately landing on Jisung curled up in bed, clutching his hoodie like a lifeline.
"Shit."
Minho was across the room in two steps.
"Hey—breathe, Sungie, breathe. I'm right here."
He dropped to the floor beside the bed, not crowding, just close enough. Jisung's hands were trembling, his lips parted, trying to find breath.
"Look at me. Can you do that?"
Jisung's wide, tear-filled eyes met his.
"Good. Just copy me, okay?"
Minho inhaled deeply, exaggerating the motion.
In... two, three... out... two, three...
Jisung tried. His breaths came in short bursts, but he followed. Slowly. Painfully. But he followed.
"That's it. You're doing great."
Minho reached out carefully, resting a hand over Jisung's where it clutched the blanket. No pressure. Just warmth.
"You're not alone. I'm not going anywhere."
Jisung's breathing finally began to slow, though the tears didn't stop. He hated this. Hated the vulnerability. But Minho didn't flinch. He didn't look disgusted or annoyed.
He looked like he cared.
"...You shouldn't have to deal with this," Jisung whispered, voice cracked.
"I want to deal with it," Minho said softly, squeezing his hand. "Because it's you."
That broke something in Jisung.
He didn't even notice the way he fell forward, into Minho's chest. But Minho caught him like he'd been expecting it. Held him like he was precious.
And for the first time in days, Jisung breathed.
