Growing & Growing
Title: Growing & Growing
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Genre: that wannabe sad stuff.
Warnings: I have a nasty habit of not finishing sentences? oh, & broken!2min
~556 words, btw.
A/N : Part of my Minhoism Series. Minho-centric because I'm terribly biased. Taemin's POV tho. & whoo, first post here =]
You’re a little more tired with every passing day. Smiling with a little more ache in everything you do. But you remember wishing for Minho to open up, to show the world he was caring and understanding, and more motherly than everyone painted Key to be. Wishes come true, yet bring no satisfaction.
He’s more open, but he’s also more open with everyone else. He’s no longer just yours, he belongs to everyone and everyone leeches greedily off his love. And lately you can never be sure how much of his heart actually makes it back to you at the end of the day.
Maybe this is how Mom felt when you told her you were going to become a famous dancer with famous friends and live in famous places. But she believed you and encouraged you, prepared your wings for you, packed lunch and let you fly. She felt proud.
It’s different with Minho. And even as you urged him to smile more, to talk more, to be the Minho he was when he was with you behind closed doors. Even when you wanted him to fly, and even when he did just that. Was doing just that. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel proud. Instead anger and jealously and loneliness plagued you, will always plague you.
“Minho…” You call to him as he’s walking up to the stage. It can’t wait for later, what you have to say. The fans shout louder, more demanding, but he stops and turns to you. (And that should have been enough to show you he still loved you, fans were so important to him). He turns his eyes to you, you look at him and you lose yourself. He’s gorgeous. He had always been handsome, but the confidence and friendly aura that engulfed him now made him gorgeous, more alluring. You feel inferior, all thinned wrists and fighting awkward growth spurts.
He waits for you to speak and you think he already knows what you want to say. But he‘ll wait for you to say it anyway. No matter how ridiculous he knows it’ll be.
You live together, close you eyes and the last thing you see is him, is SHINee. Open your eyes and the first thing you see is him, is SHINee. But you know he understands when you tell him just how much you miss him. He doesn’t hold your hands anymore, he holds Jonghyun’s. He doesn’t hold you anymore, he holds Donghae. He doesn’t even turn his head, pretend to whisper in your ear, he turns to Kibum.
And when you’re gasping for breathe, rant dead at the tip of your tongue, he blinks in a way paranoia makes you think is in mock manner of your nervous habit. “No worries, Taemin-ah” He turns away, and you worry. You follow, trying not to think about how this conversation would have gone if he was still shelled away from everyone but you.
I miss you, Minho.
Miss you too, love.
You guess a lot has changed, a lot more than you could fathom. A lot more than you wanted. You guess you had to deal with it. You could still pretend he was yours, at least he still let you pretend. After all he was always so nice to you…and you guess that would never change.
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Genre: that wannabe sad stuff.
Warnings: I have a nasty habit of not finishing sentences? oh, & broken!2min
~556 words, btw.
A/N : Part of my Minhoism Series. Minho-centric because I'm terribly biased. Taemin's POV tho. & whoo, first post here =]
You’re a little more tired with every passing day. Smiling with a little more ache in everything you do. But you remember wishing for Minho to open up, to show the world he was caring and understanding, and more motherly than everyone painted Key to be. Wishes come true, yet bring no satisfaction.
He’s more open, but he’s also more open with everyone else. He’s no longer just yours, he belongs to everyone and everyone leeches greedily off his love. And lately you can never be sure how much of his heart actually makes it back to you at the end of the day.
Maybe this is how Mom felt when you told her you were going to become a famous dancer with famous friends and live in famous places. But she believed you and encouraged you, prepared your wings for you, packed lunch and let you fly. She felt proud.
It’s different with Minho. And even as you urged him to smile more, to talk more, to be the Minho he was when he was with you behind closed doors. Even when you wanted him to fly, and even when he did just that. Was doing just that. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel proud. Instead anger and jealously and loneliness plagued you, will always plague you.
“Minho…” You call to him as he’s walking up to the stage. It can’t wait for later, what you have to say. The fans shout louder, more demanding, but he stops and turns to you. (And that should have been enough to show you he still loved you, fans were so important to him). He turns his eyes to you, you look at him and you lose yourself. He’s gorgeous. He had always been handsome, but the confidence and friendly aura that engulfed him now made him gorgeous, more alluring. You feel inferior, all thinned wrists and fighting awkward growth spurts.
He waits for you to speak and you think he already knows what you want to say. But he‘ll wait for you to say it anyway. No matter how ridiculous he knows it’ll be.
You live together, close you eyes and the last thing you see is him, is SHINee. Open your eyes and the first thing you see is him, is SHINee. But you know he understands when you tell him just how much you miss him. He doesn’t hold your hands anymore, he holds Jonghyun’s. He doesn’t hold you anymore, he holds Donghae. He doesn’t even turn his head, pretend to whisper in your ear, he turns to Kibum.
And when you’re gasping for breathe, rant dead at the tip of your tongue, he blinks in a way paranoia makes you think is in mock manner of your nervous habit. “No worries, Taemin-ah” He turns away, and you worry. You follow, trying not to think about how this conversation would have gone if he was still shelled away from everyone but you.
I miss you, Minho.
Miss you too, love.
You guess a lot has changed, a lot more than you could fathom. A lot more than you wanted. You guess you had to deal with it. You could still pretend he was yours, at least he still let you pretend. After all he was always so nice to you…and you guess that would never change.