San went out into the living room again when he heard the jingle of keys. Sure enough, Mingi was standing by the door, fully dressed. "Are you going to him again?"
"Yes," Mingi replied wearily, his hand sliding off the door handle. "His name is Yunho, you know?"
The last word had barely left Mingi's mouth when San said, "I don't care what his name is."
That prompted Mingi to turn around, his facial features stretched tight.
San exhaled, letting his own stern eyes soften. "I know he's important to you and you're important to him, but you wouldn't want to put both of you in danger, right?"
"Don't make me sound like a monster. I'm a patient," Mingi retorted.
The low and dangerous voice didn't faze San. "Then are you going to explain to him how you forget most of the things that happen at night because of the medications you need to take?"
"No," answered Mingi. Then, with more confidence, he added, "I'm just not going to take them."
The boldness of that statement stunned San momentarily. "You-you know you can't do that."
Mingi turned himself so he was fully facing San now. "No, I don't, actually. I listened to you and stopped seeing Yunho, but nothing has happened. It killed me to leave him alone without an explanation, and I'm not doing it again. I'm done listening to you."
San's heart clenched in pain, but the sensation was barely noticeable under the panic. He could tell that Mingi's patience was running low; he had to say something.
"But-"
"But what?" Mingi blurted, the sharp end of the 't' bouncing off the walls of the flat. "I know what you're going to say, so unless you have something else to tell me, I'm going to leave."
"I-" San stuttered. He did have something to say, but he didn't know how to say it; his tongue was tied with panic and distress.
Meanwhile, Mingi was struggling to withstand the flood of emotions. "I really need this, San," he said, almost choking on the words with the heavy feelings trying to flow up his throat. "And I know you know."
The desperation in Mingi's glistening eyes and the sentiment in his soft voice made up San's mind.
"Can you at least tell me where you're going?"
"Yunho's place. He lives nearby," replied Mingi as he opened the door.
As he watched, San thought about the dead stray cats he saw in the alley last night and added hastily, "And be careful!"
The door clicked shut behind Mingi. He felt heavy from the conversation, but the notion that he was going to see Yunho soon lifted his mood.
Mingi's heart pounded harder the closer he got to his destination. By the time he was standing at the door, his ribcage was rattling with the type of breathtaking anticipation you had right before going on a rollercoaster.
Inside, Yunho jumped off the couch as soon as he heard the knocks. He brushed his bangs a final time and pulled open the door, revealing the goofy smile on Mingi's face.
Yunho's lips curled up naturally in response. "Come in."
A savory aroma wafted up Mingi's nose the moment he stepped in. That turned up his appetite up a notch even though he was used to having dinner later at night. "What are you making?"
"Sundubu jjigae," Yunho replied as he disappeared into the kitchen to make tea.
Before following, Mingi took a peek at the living room. It was just the perfect size for a cozy atmosphere, with a small gray couch - designed for two people but could just fit a third person - on one side of the room and a wall-mounted TV on the opposite end. The handwoven gray and white rug in the middle complemented the shadow colored shelf under the TV, looking so soft Mingi almost wanted to step on it.
Mingi could almost see Yunho's personality in the room - warm, welcoming, and most of all, unimposing at first glance but amazingly comfortable once you got used to it.
"I made tea," called Yunho.
Mingi followed the voice and entered the kitchen, noticing the same homey feel even though the room had a brighter color scheme.
Yunho placed down a cup on the dining table, tensing his hand to stop it from trembling out of nervousness. He had to focus on that simple movement to prevent accidentally spilling the drink.
Once the cup was safe on the tablecloth and Mingi gave a quiet "thanks", Yunho straightened his body eagerly, made a fleeting moment of eye contact, and returned to the simmering stew behind him.
Looking down at the pot, he realized he wasn't sure if he was listening to the stew bubbling or the blood pulsing in his ears. The red color of the soup might have also resembled the burning tips of his ears.
Mingi sipped on his hot drink, his body finally thawing after being out in the cold for so long. He was aware of the slightly awkward atmosphere between himself and Yunho and found it cute that Yunho was so nervous in his presence.
"So are you trying to make competition with San?" He asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"San?" Yunho turned around, sounding serious all of a sudden.
A soft chuckle escaped Mingi's lips. "My flatmate. He made stew for me yesterday too, remember?"
"Oh! Um-No, it's..." Yunho stuttered, diverting his gaze onto a cupboard on his side. "I just chose something I'm good at making."
Trying to contain his laughter, Mingi stood up and circled around the table towards the incredibly flustered man. He tried to slide into the small space between the counter and the short end of the table, where Yunho was.
Yunho froze, his nerves bundling up and firing out incomprehensive signals that overloaded his brain. All he could do was grip the edge of the counter behind him.
A loud sizzle tore him out of his trance and he spun around to tend to the stew.
"Ah shoot, it's going to bur-"
The last syllable got lost in his throat when he felt a pair of arms wrapping around his waist and a warm chest pressing against his back.
His heart pumped twice as hard. The blood in his body rushed twice as fast. Yet his brain didn't seem to be receiving enough, because his mind went blank and his hands dangled uselessly on the stove switch.
Then Mingi's voice traveled straight into Yunho's ears, low and soothing. "Don't worry. You won already because you chose my favorite stew. I love tofu."
Yunho's overheating body seemed to have pulled him back to his senses. He turned the dial to distinguish the fire and shuffled in Mingi's embrace, hoping Mingi would let him go.
He didn't. So now Yunho was actually facing Mingi, barely a centimeter between their noses. His nerves were buzzing. Sweat began to form on his palms. He was sure there was a drummer in his chest where his heart should've been.
"Are you okay?" Mingi asked, referring to the redness of Yunho's cheeks.
No coherent words came out of Yunho's mouth. They were just half syllables, cut off by his overwhelming senses. He was trying to divert his gaze, to relieve some of the awkwardness, but somehow his eyes always found their way back to Mingi's.
The light brown orbs, trembling ever so slightly in a mesmerizing way. They were relaxing to stare at.
Mingi finally pulled away from the hug when Yunho nodded. Almost instantly, Yunho felt a cold spot on his back where Mingi's hands were, and it was only when Mingi looked elsewhere that he realized he actually wanted to hold the eye contact for a while longer.
"Look," said Mingi. He was holding something in his hands.
Yunho tilted his head, glad that he had a chance to calm his racing heart. "What is it?"
"A present," Mingi replied, revealing a portable mirror in his palms. It was round and painted sky blue, with the word Yunho printed in a small, round font.
Taking it reluctantly, Yunho asked, "A mirror?"
There was a glint in Mingi's eyes as he smiled. "I'll tell you why, but let's eat dinner first."
During dinner, Mingi declared Yunho the winner between him and San, which made Yunho blush. Other than that cheesy moment, Yunho had a comfortable meal with the person he was starting to like more and more.
After the dishes were washed, they went out to the porch where they could catch the sun setting on the distant horizon.
Yunho held out the mirror again. "So why a mirror?"
Mingi drowned in the breathtaking scenery. The sky was a canvas, with an invisible artist swirling his paint around delicately. The red mixed with the purple; the yellow with the pink. "Because I want you to know how handsome you are."
That made Yunho's heart flutter, but he stared down at the mirror without opening it. He was afraid of what he would see. "I..."
"I know," said Mingi softly. He gave one last look at the tip of the yellow ball, now barely visible above the cityscape. The paints were wearing off. "But this mirror's different because it shows you what I see when I look at you. And you're going to realize it's the same every time you open it."
Mingi placed his hand on top of Yunho's, guiding him to open the mirror. "You are you," he continued. "You are what you see in the mirror, not what you think other people see in your reflection."
Yunho glanced at the mirror. The side of his face was tinted an orange-yellow color. He looked up again and saw the same color slowly fading on Mingi's face.
Eventually, Mingi's words sank in, just as the sun dipped fully below the horizon.