♥P♥A♥R♥T♥~♥1♥
(AN~ Minho is in 1st grade/year 2 and Jisung is in kindergarten/year 1 )
Minho sat out on the swinging chair on the porch in his backyard, feasting his eyes on the millions of flowers that filled the garden to the brim. The garden was an elegant blur of colors, the most prominent being blue and green. The garden was extensive, stretching out upon acres and acres of land — and it all belonged to Minho and his parents.
He had stolen a few sheets of printer paper from his mother, and brought out a box of 120 crayola crayons, because he's "fancy like that". He also had a random book that he had found to bear down on. Minho had been very concerned about ripping his Picasso level artwork.
He worked on a drawing of the garden piece by piece, making sure to take advantage of all his fancy colors. After Minho had decided that he should check on his progress, he held the paper up to his face, extending his arms out, sticking his tongue out as if it helped him analyze his artwork, and nodded, setting the paper back down. He put in a few more strokes with his crayon before he was content.
He jumped up from the swing, leaving his previous work of art on the swing, carrying the rest of his supplies with him. It required some effort and convincing to get the crayons to fit in their container. However, they eventually were snugly placed in the right spot.
He walked through the garden mindlessly, hugging his supplies close to his chest. Minho breathed in the rich and earthy air as he ran his fingers along some rose bushes that lined a beaten path that lead to a place that he knew well.
He soon reached that place; a large clearing, rose bushes still in some places, but there was also what he called "butterfly candies" scattered here and there. (Now, these flowers were actually called phloxes, but his name made sense as butterflies seem to enjoy this flower more than all the other herbage that was grown in the garden combined.) A small white bench was standing in the middle of the secluded and lush area, with two of the phlox bushes on each side. Butterflies gathered around them — mainly skippers of many kinds. Minho didn't mind the large amount of skippers there were, as they had to be by far his favorite butterfly. Small and almost fluffy; always letting him get really close or volunteering to land on him.
There was always one checkered skipper that Minho would swear to his parents was the same on that he would see every time he came out to his little escapism spot. His parents never believed him, of course, but the small boy seemed adamant that this was Indeed Chess. (Yes, he has named the skipper.) The skipper was fluffier than usual and had brighter markings, so he was easily distinguished. Plus, he had only just come this year, so Minho knew that it was n't just a different butterfly; it was his Chess. (Minho was practically in love with Chess, if you couldn't tell just from that.)
Today, Chess greeted the small boy as usual fluttering around him happily. Minho giggled. "Hey, Chess!" He held up his hand for the skipper to land on, but only after setting down his things.
Chess flapped his spotted wings happily as a reply before fluttering down to lay his feet on the palm of Minho's hand. He slowly brought Chess closer to him, laying his index finger on the skipper's head
Minho was about to nuzzle Chess again, when he heard rustling in the bushes. He turned around with the speed of light, causing Chess to flutter off his hand for a few seconds. "Hello?" Minho asked the air, stepping towards the place where the rustle had issued from. When he got nothing in reply, he simply shrugged, meeting eyes with Chess. "Well," he told Chess, "must've just been a silly little squirrel. Nothing to worry about!" Minho smiled and have the skipper a tender pet down his body.
Though, after much more rustling of Minho's precious flower bushes, he became less and less sure if it was truly just a squirrel — or any animal that isn't an insect, at that. "Uhm, hello?"
"Hello?" the bushes echoed.
"WOAH!" Minho yelled loudly, jumping back into the white bench that was just beside him. "W-who's there?"
"Erm," a small voice said. "Don't worry about me! I'm just a little squirrel." The voice continued to imitate the sounds of a squirrel. Minho had to admit that they were very good squirrel sounds, but He wasn't convinced that it was simply a squirrel anymore.
"I don't think squirrels know Korean," Minho replied to the squirrel boy, Chess hovering just over his head.
"Uhhh . . . I guess they do now!" the boy chirped.
Minho groaned. "Just come out already." Chess looked over at Minho as if saying, "You have horrible patience, my guy. Not blaming you though."
More rustling was heard, until a figure was able to be seen, and then a small boy stepped over a bush. His overalls and his hands and arms dirty, alongside his face. "My name is Han Jisung," he stated matter-of -factly. "But you can call me Jisung."
"I'm Lee Minho, but you can call me Lee Know, because I know everything," Minho said smugly.
Jisung paused, seemingly buffering. "Uh, I'm just gonna call you Minho."
Minho rolled his eyes. "That part doesn't matter. What does matter is why you're in my garden." Chess landed on the boy's shoulders, seeming to urge Jisung on to reply.
However, the squirrel boy merely shrugged. "My family just moved into the house next to yours. I guess that makes us neighbors!"
Minho sighed. "I guess that does." Chess fluttered his little way over to Jisung, seemingly inspecting him. "Oh, and that's Chess." Minho stood up and walked towards the curious Chess and the squirrel boy.
"Woah," Jisung said slowly. "Is he your pet? I would love a pet butterfly."
"Kinda. I guess you could say he's my pet," Minho replied. "But, you must get this, it's very important; he's not just any butterfly, he's a chequered skipper! Very fluffy . "
Jisung looked surprised, to say the least. "Wow. How did you know that? I just call them all butterflies. You're very smart."
The corner of Minho's mouth raised smugly. "Butterflies are my favorite thing in the world! I even know what the very smart people call them. The scientists call them Carterocephalus palaemon . Lots of people don't know that." The small boy puffed his chest out with pride, very glad that at least his new neighbor was impressed by how much he knew about a singular species of butterfly.
"That's very cool," Jisung said. "I don't know much about anything. But I do have a pet spider. My mom doesn't have to know I have a pet spider. I call him Dave." Jisung smiled brightly at this.
"Maybe sometime I'll go over to see Dave."
"Heck yeah!" Jisung exclaimed, throwing one of his small fists into the air. "This is gonna be so fun! We'll be friends forever !" (an idk abt that one jisung *winks*)
-------
"This," Jisung said, holding up a small ball with spikes on it's back and a few legs sticking out, "is Dave."
"How do you know it's a boy and not a girl?" Minho quizzed, examining the spider.
Jisung shrugged. "Dave spoke to me. He told me everything." Minho looked at Jisung, very confused. The squirrel boy's eyes were wide, staring Dave down.
"Okay. . ."
"Dave's seen some things, Minho." The squirrel boy's voice shook with the information.
"What has he seen?" Minho quizzed.
"Dreadful things. One time he saw me drop my ice cream." Jisung shook his head, trying to clear it of the horrible thought.
Minho gasped. "No?!"
"Yeah!"
Minho inched his face closer to the spider. "He looks like he has a skull on his back," he remarked.
"I see a panda." Jisung pointed one of his fingers towards the spider's abdomen. "See? It's nose is there, and just above it are the little panda eye-spots!"
"Ohhhh." Minho squinted and tilted his head, still eyeing Dave very intensely. "Nope. Still looks like a skull to me." Jisung sighed.
-------
"Jisung, google says Dave's a girl!" Minho laughed. "Dave speaks lies."
A frantic Jisung appeared at the doorway. "What?!"
"Look here," Minho said, pointing at an article he had pulled up. "'Females' backs have spines while males have smooth bumps.'" Minho said back on the sofa, leaning away from his mom's iPad. "Boom. "
"I can't believe this Minho," Jisung mumbled, looking as if he's seen a ghost. "So Dave is really. . . Davina ?"
"Yes, I suppose."
"My life is over!" Jisung exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air and letting them fall back down to his side again. "Davina has lied."
"Jisung!!" The boy's mother screamed. " Why is there a spider in my kitchen!?"
Jisung pursued his lips together. "Uhhhh-" he yelled back.
"Don't worry!" Minho replied for Jisung. "Davina isn't venomous!" A shrill scream echoed through the house, and Minho said, "Well, I'm gonna leave now."
"I'm coming with!" Jisung whispered somewhat loudly. They opened Jisung's window and jumped through it, heading to Minho's house and over his white fence into the garden.
-------
When the two got back to Jisung's house, they were in utter shock. "You killed Davina?"
"How could you!?" Minho whined, stomping his foot on the floor and his fists balled.
Jisung's mother just stood there, her hands up as if she was being interrogated by the police. "To be fair, it was a spider, and venomous or not, there's probably another somewhere around here, and I don't need them making a bunch of baby spiders."
Jisung groaned and Minho held up his hand, revealing poor little Chess who had to endure all of their suffering. "Look at him! Would you kill him? He's not venomous or poisonous!" He shoved Chess further into her face .
"Well, no, but—"
"Case closed! You're a murderer!"
Jisung's mom sighed helplessly, shaking her head.
♥P♥A♥R♥T♥~♥2♥
(AN~ Minho is 16 and Jisung is 14)
"Minho," Jisung said, criss-crossed and playing with a small, yet thick, green lizard.
"Mmm?" Minho hummed as a reply, looking over at Jisung. His tone had been more somber than usual.
Jisung swirled his finger around the lizard's head, its small beady eyes following the squirrel's movements. "My dad got fired from his job."
"What? How? Didn't you say that his boss had said that he was one of their best workers?" Minho asked frantically. Jisung's dad had gotten a very well-paying job, and his mom didn't work
Jisung groaned, looking up into the cloudless sky. "Apparently my dad was lying so I'd think that everything was great for him. He didn't want to worry me."
Minho sighed. "What do you think is gonna happen?"
"I mean, we have enough saved up so that we can survive without my dad having a job for at least a week or two. . ." But, Minho didn't really believe this. He felt as if Jisung was now the one lying not to worry someone he loved — well, at least loved to a certain amount. "I may not be able to see you as much, though. I might have to get a job, even if it's just at a McDonald's or something small like that. Anything to help."
Minho's eyes were full of worry and doubt, and Jisung's were being drained of all hope that might have been there before. "I could give you some of the money I make from my job," Minho offered. He did work at a Burger King and got paid minimum wage (which everyone knows is absolute shit), but it didn't matter to him. What did matter to him was Jisung.
However, Jisung shook his head. "No. You don't need to do that. We'll be fine." The crack in Jisung's voice said otherwise.
-------
"Minho!" a familiar voice chimed. The boy that had been called looked up from a bundle of lily of the valleys that he had been admiring, and was greeted by something — for a more suitable word, someone — ten times better than the purple flower. The boy was standing behind a few lace shrubs and trees.
"Jisungie!" Minho exclaimed, jumping up to run and hug the boy. He embraced him in his arms, the warmth of Jisung engulfing him. "I've missed you! I mean, I know you were only gone for one day, but—" Minho paused realizing that Jisung had only weakly hugged back, which this was strange for him. Minho pulled out of the hug and looked Jisung in the eyes, still leaving his hands laying on the squirrel boy's shoulders. He had tears in his eyes. "Jisung?" His voice cracked.
Jisung took a deep breath before speaking. "We're moving." His voice was raspy, most likely from crying, even if he had tried to cover his tears when near Minho.
It felt as if someone had thrust a freshly honed spear straight through Minho's heart. "What?" Jisung took a large, shaking inhale before a single tear fell from his eyes, but not allowing any of the others to escape.
"My mom got a job, but . . . it's in America . . ." Jisung trailed off hopelessly.
Minho reached his hand up to wipe the tear off of the boy's face, cupping his hand around his chin and drifting his thumb across Jisung's oh-so-pinchable squirrel cheeks. "Jisung. . ." The dark-haired boy genuinely felt bad for not being able to say anything but Jisung's name repeatedly, each time getting more depressing and less enthusiastic. So, to make up for the thing that was worse than pure silence, Minho just hugged Jisung. He hugged him as tightly as he could, wanting to just transfer all the warmth in his body to Jisung.
Birds chirped and some crickets clicked every once in a while. Minho, however, took no notice to them. In his world, it was just him and Jisung. Jisung and him.
After what would seem like a million years to other people but just a few seconds to the two, Minho pulled out of the hug. He looked at Jisung. And looked at him. And looked at him. It broke him in two to see Jisung sad.
He left his hands on Jisung's back, not really knowing what to say to him. No words combined could express how he felt in that moment. Heart-broken was as close as he could get, but yet still so far.
Before Minho could for even just one word out of the swirling colors of feelings that consumed his whole body, Jisung spoke. "II should go." Minho had no time to deny this, Jisung slowly backed away from Minho, and Minho slowly moved his arms down from Jisung's back. Jisung then turned around and ran to his house, tears flying behind him.
"I love you, Jisung . . ." Minho said, but nobody but the chunky lizard could hear him.
-------
Minho sat on the pastel green chair on his porch, looking out on his garden, but not thinking of the swirling colors of the plants anymore. All he could think of was Jisung. He missed even just his voice. missed his warmth. He knew Jisung hadn't moved yet. He knew he could go over to his house at any given time. It just hurt. And it hurt for no reason that he could find.
Minho sighed and got up from the swinging chair, deciding that if he was to talk to Jisung it would be now. He would probably be leaving for America tomorrow, or even today. His feet led him to Jisung's front doorstep, and before he knew it, he was only awkwardly standing outside of Jisung's black door. He slowly raised his hand up to knock, but before he could do so, the door opened.
It wasn't Jisung who was there. It was a man Minho had never seen before in his life.
"Can I help you?" the unidentified man asked.
"Uhm," Minho tried to reply, swallowing a wad of saliva that had been building up in his throat, "is Jisung here?"
The man cocked his head. "Jisung? I've never heard of him."
Minho's heart sank, and he could've sworn that it would've fallen out of him if he hadn't swallowed it back up. "He was one of the people who lived here before you moved in. I guess he's already gone. " Minho tried to suppress the tears that were sneaking their way into his eyes. "I'll just . . . go now."
As Minho turned around, the man spoke. "He might be over at your house, waiting for you."
"I highly doubt that," Minho mumbled under his breath, not loud enough for the man to hear.
Minho made his way back to the garden, kicking a rock on the way back. He had missed his chance to say goodbye . . .
Or so he thought.
As Minho got closer and closer to the garden, he heard the squeaking of the chains that held the swinging chair up. "Mom?" Minho asked, poking his head through the bushes that hid the porch from his sight. He didn't see his mom. Who saw instead was about a trillion times better.
Tears teased at Minho's dark eyes even more than before as he ran towards the person, the person standing up once they saw him. Minho rapped his arms around the person. "Jisung. . ."
"Minho." Jisung hugged back tightly, and Minho ate up every second of it. His voice. His presence. His warmth. For the last time.
♥P♥A♥R♥T♥~♥3♥
(AN~ Minho is 22 and Jisung is 20)
It had been about six years since Jisung left. And Minho stilled missed him. He wouldn't let himself let go. His parents told him that most people would've moved on after an entire six years. Not Minho. Especially when it was about Jisung. He just couldn't. He'd meant too much to him.
"Minho, when are you going to move out?" his dad asked, taking a sip of his pure black coffee like a maniac (an~ ok but fr my dad drinks coffee straight up black and i dont understand how TvT) .
"Dad," he mumbled. "I'm not leaving anytime soon."
"Son, you do realize that you're already 22 years old!? When I was your age, I was in the military, and I was only fighting with one foot. My other foot was off starting a business." Minho sighed and rolled his eyes at his father's shananigans.
"Hunny, don't tell me this is about Jisung," his mom chimed in with her voice as sweet as honey. "You know he's never coming back . . . right?"
"Yeah," Minho whispered, tightening his grip around the coffee that he was drinking that had been properly made and not black. Minho stood up, coffee in hand. "I'm going out into the garden." As Minho walked towards
the back door (an~hey, wanna come in?) he heard his dad whisper, "I wish we had the same problem as other parents; having their kids obsessed with phones and hating the outdoors."
Minho ignored this comment and walked with his hands in his hoodie's pockets to the place where he was most happy. A white bench — and, best of all — butterflies.
He sat in the bench, laying his head back and closing his eyes. He allowed the scent of the phloxes and roses to engulf him, some butterflies fluttering around him every once in a while.
He looked down at a tender tickle on his hand. A small, fluffy olive skipper blinked back up at him, its eyes big and bulging. Minho smiled, remembering Chess. This wasn't Chess, though. Minho knew it wasn't. He just wished it was.
Minho sighed and closed his eyes, laying his head back again, the sunlight radiating onto his face. The skipper tickled at the way up to his arm, soon climbing up his neck, making its way to stand on his nose. Minho smiled softly at the little creature's actions.
Rain started slowly dripping from the sky, but Minho didn't open his eyes. And the skipper didn't move. They stayed, some kind of understanding forming between them.
Minho slowly lowered his head, the skipper fluttering off of him, but landing on his outreached hand. "You'll be easy to name," he told the skipper. "I'll call you Olive."
He chuckled, not bothering to look behind him when he heard rustling in the bushes.
"Hey," a soft voice said as a stray finger tapped him on the shoulder. Minho looked up and his eyes widened. "Still like butterflies?"
♥
🦋 THE END 🦋
♥
~♥~AN~ ♥~
OKOKOKOKOK I NEED YA'LL TO KNOW WHAT CHESS LOOKS LIKE
LIKE HE'S LITERALLY SO CUTE IM DYING ASFKJRHBFEJKSHFDHKJNESHD SO FLOOFY I have a lot of skippers in my area so heheh~ im a bit obsessed TvT (they're also so SMOL i cannot stress that ENOUGHHHH)
anygayysss what'd you think of the first oneshot?? hope you enjoyed it :> (I might write a chapter 2 hehe that's why i made them younger in the last part than they are now)
now, goodbye guys gals and my nonbinary palz (I hope you dream of Chess~~~)
~♥~Word Count: 3,526~♥~