STZ_2358



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    10 years after he lost his first love, and three years after he lost his second, Han Jisung signs his daughter up for ballet class.

     

    Sometimes, there would be months when he dreamed of Minho every night and awoke with only the fading wisps of memory. It left a hollowed-out feeling in his chest. It left him reeling. It left him sunken and gasping and full of remorse.

     

    And then, a few minutes into wakefulness, the dreams were gone, a hazy smokescreen memory, more pain than substance.

     

    “I didn’t forget about you,” he says quietly, and Minho shrugs.

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    25 Apr 2026

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    Minho brushes a tear away from under Jisung’s left eye, the pad of his thumb rough, yet gentle. “We don’t have to tell him,” he murmurs.

    Then softer, almost like a whisper; “We’ve kept other things just between us before, haven’t we?”

    OR: Jisung wants to learn, and Minho is willing to do anything for him.

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    13 Dec 2025

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    “Jisung-ssi,” Minho breathes, voice barely audible over the weight of the world pushing down on him. “I know this sounds crazy, but do you believe in fate?”

    Jisung smiles and it’s genuine. “No. But you do.”

    Minho snorts and sits back in his chair, surprised at the certainty in which Jisung speaks. “I think you’re pushing your luck.”

    “I don’t think it’s luck.”

    “So it is fate,” Minho teases, cocking his head. He picks up his notepad and takes his pen out from behind his ear, underlining the word ‘romantic’ with two tight lines.

    “No,” Jisung says again, big eyes turning sad. “I think things just happen. Even when they’re not supposed to.”

    (OR: Minho and Jisung find each other in every life, even when the universe doesn't want them to. It does everything to stop them and they do everything to keep going.)

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    31 Oct 2025

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    The ballet dancer’s soft voice breaks through the buzzing black and white static that fills Jisung’s mind.

    “Hello.”

    “Ahh–” Jisung stumbles over himself for a moment, chewing his lip to get himself in order. “I’m Han Jisung, born in 2000. It's nice to meet you.”

    Well. Shit. As if he needed anymore proof of how limited his ‘gift with words’ truly was. He shouldn’t have left the house, he clearly can’t be in society.

    The dancer’s face lights up in amusement. “Wow, so formal and polite. I’m Minho.”

    Minho’s smirk shifts again like mercury.

    No, Jisung corrects himself, Minho feels too assured to be quicksilver.

    It’s like the seasons. Like the spring melt. A change that brings relief. A shift so steady it feels stablising

    Or: Jisung is a poet experiencing major writer's block. He goes out to find inspiration when he finds the ballet dancer Minho.

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    23 Aug 2025

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    Minho was silent for a few beats. Over the radio, a man was crooning about his lost love.

    “You don’t want more out of a marriage?”

    It was Jisung’s turn to laugh. “What more is there to ask for?”

    “Attraction,” Minho’s voice sounded odd, almost reluctant. “Intimacy. You really find him…satisfactory?”

    What did Minho know about him, or love, for that matter, anyway? And what right did he have to ask if Seungmin was satisfactory? It wouldn’t be his marriage. It was already hardly his family.

    God damn Minho, Jisung thought, for being so cagey. Mysterious.

    Unfortunately, if there was one thing he couldn’t resist, it was a mystery.

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    16 Aug 2025