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The first time Jisung sees Minho in four years — the first proper time, not the glimpses during Chuseok and odd weekends here and there when he’d come down from university — he’s running his hand through his hair and looking so unbelievably beautiful Jisung almost falls off his bike.
He hasn’t spoken to Minho in a long time.
Or: in 2002, four years after Minho moved to college, four years after they stopped speaking, seven years after Jisung fell for him, twelve years since the day they met, Jisung and Minho fall in love again.
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Tick, tick, tick , here it comes. Blood, yes, the tiles will forever be stained, their insides will mix, they’re going to hack away at the floor and the walls and the ceiling, the museum, the bomb, the blood, the plaque. Minho’s name, next to Jisung’s. They’re terrible people, Jisung is the worst, Minho very much so too. The plaque will say it, most definitely: Maybe they’re so good for each other, because they’re both such terrible, horrible, people.
Jisung is lonely and Minho is there. They can’t, they shouldn’t, but they do.
