The Way You Stayed | MinSung FF

\#\15\#\

The next hour passed in a blur of soft laughter and small talk between coffee machines and trays of pastries. Minho found himself learning that Chris — or Chan, as he insisted — was twenty-one, Australian, and absurdly kind. Like, too kind. The type of kind that made you wonder what you'd done right in life to deserve meeting someone like him.

When Chan brewed his first latte under Minho's supervision, Minho took a cautious sip, eyebrows lifting. "Not bad," he admitted, then after a pause added teasingly, "Still needs a little work though."

Chan's grin only widened. "Challenge accepted."

And just like that, Minho found himself smiling too — realizing somewhere between his spiraling thoughts and stress, he'd just made a new friend.

⸻

After Chan had found his rhythm in the kitchen, one of their coworkers called him back. So Minho was alone, again. He glanced toward the window, almost expecting to see Jisung walking by, even though he hadn't in a few days. That thought made his chest tighten even further.

He shouldn't be thinking about Jisung. Not when he had Jeongin depending on him. Not when he had bills to pay and schedules to keep. Not when his sister would soon take Jeongin back.

But he did. Every time he closed his eyes, every time he paused to catch his breath behind the counter, the image of the boy's smiling face and teasing eyes appeared in front of him.

Intead of Minho focusing on customers and pastries, he was daydreaming about some boy he'd only known for two months.

⸻

Finally, Minho got a moment of reprieve. The café had calmed down, and the line had dwindled to one elderly woman who ordered a tea. He leaned against the counter, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

Jeongin's voice came to him in memory, calling "Mama!" as he waved at Minho across the café months ago. The memory was bittersweet now, filled with warmth and guilt at once.

He could feel the tension in his shoulders unraveling just slightly. And yet, the ache remained, gnawing at him, whispering reminders that nothing he had now was permanent.

He wanted to sit down and cry. He wanted to let it out — the exhaustion, the guilt, the helpless longing — but there was no time. He had cried to many times the past month. And especially not here. Not with a café full of people watching him.

He wiped his hands on a towel, staring blankly at the counter.

You're not enough.

That thought hit him every time he thought about Jeongin going back to his sister. He wasn't enough for the little boy. Not enough to provide the security and love Jeongin deserved.

You're selfish.

That one cut even deeper. He liked Jisung — no, he was falling for him — and yet he was supposed to be responsible. Focused. Mature. Not flustered and flailing at the thought of a boy who might make him smile even on his worst days.

You're weak.

Minho's chest tightened. He hated how vulnerable he felt, how much he cared about things he had no control over. He had been trying to keep it together for Jeongin. For his sister. For himself. And yet the minute he had space to think, everything fell apart in his mind.

⸻

The elderly woman had taken her tea and left, leaving the café quiet except for the soft music in the background. Minho took a deep breath and looked around. The empty tables, the polished counters, the sunlight streaming in — it all felt distant, like he was observing it from far away.

He forced himself to focus. He had work to do. Orders to fill. Milk to steam, pastries to wrap, drinks to serve. But every time he touched a cup, he thought of Jeongin's tiny hand clinging to his arm. Every time he adjusted the napkins, he thought of Jisung's teasing grin, the way the taller boy had brushed hands with him just days ago.

He was drowning in his own thoughts, yet he had to keep moving. Because there was no one else who could take care of Jeongin like he did. No one else who could carry the weight of his life on his shoulders with as much grace, even if he felt like he was failing.

⸻

By the time the café began to empty for the afternoon lull, Minho's mind was still spinning, but he forced himself to slow down. He wiped down the last counter, stacked the chairs neatly, and took a moment to breathe.

He couldn't change the past. He couldn't predict the future. He couldn't know what would happen with Jisung.

But he could be here now. For Jeongin. For himself. For the fleeting moments of happiness, no matter how small, that he could carve out in his day.

He also had made a friend, Chan had already left for the day, but he made sure to get Minhos number before leaving.

Minho took a deep breath, straightened his apron, and offered a small, tired smile to the quiet café around him. He might be tired. He might be overwhelmed. But he was trying.

And that was... enough. For now.

A/N

Hello~

Yay, Channie is in the story now 🫰🥹

I didn't come up with the brilliant idea of him being Minhos coworker it was this lovely person
@Helikuro

So I was writing this on my school laptop the other day and then one of my classmates saw it. 😭 I had to come up with an excuse bc all the ppl in my school are like so judgmental I would've been fried in seconds if I told her I was writing a fanfiction. It's okay tho I survived. But then she left and told her friends I was acting weird so now all the "popular" kids think I'm weird... great.
Sorry idk why I had to tell u all that I js did.

#littlerantsessionbcihavenofriends✌️😭

Anyways,

XOXO, Karina