#wsminho

elliot’s favourite part of being in blue.m was the members. thank god they were willing to join in his strange anticts. it was the reason why he had instantly found himself at home within the group of boys, some of whom were equally as weird as himself.

he was blessed with friends like jang minho who, for some reason, had absolutely not questions as to why elliot had woken him in the middle of the night to sneak out of the dorm together. tugging his very large oversized jacket tightly around himself, el bounded out of the front door of their building. he seemed as if he were on the mission of a lifetime as he made his way around the corner that many of the blue.m members seemed to enjoy frequenting (all for very different reasons). 

TRUE BEAUTY SCREENCAPS

everything in life leads up to a moment. it's rhetorical, obviously considering that the choices that he made had brought him to where he was now. but moonsik felt as if this moment was the pinnacle of his life at that very moment. so many late nights and discarded notes as he rewrote his words again and again, pouring out his heart on paper in ways that he never knew that he could. it was like his music but, somehow, the notes passed between the two of them allowed him to express the depths of his heart more than he ever thought that he would be able. to feel this way about something, moreso than anything he had in his life - even his music - was something that he didn't think possible. and yet, here he was.

hands in old knit mittens, clutching tightly to the paper cups that were steaming in the cold air. a coffee, hopefully to calm his jitters and relieve his lack of sleep with the caffeine. and hot chocolate. minho's favourite. he knew a lot about the younger boy, despite the fact that they had only spoken face to face on a hanful of occasions. he knew that he loved strawberry pocky. he knows that minho doesn't like wet socks. but above all else, moonsik knows that jang minho had managed to steal his heart without even knowing it.

moonsik never meant to let it go this far. the notes started as a way to get to know him more. a simple way to make a friend while overcoming his shyness. and it meant that there was no consequences if things feel through. minho would never have known that there never was a yuseong ghost. rather, a lonely boy looking for a friend in one of the few ways that he knew how. however, once they started he was scared to stop. in typical moonsik fashion, he let his fear of not being good enough hold him back. the pair got along so well on paper. short notes back and forth slowly turning into paragraphs, and sometimes even more as moonsik poured his soul out on paper too late at night to leave for the younger boy in the dark corners of the yuseong building.

it took time for him to gain his courage. but at this point, moonsik couldn't imagine life without minho in it and perhaps minho felt the same. maybe he would want more too. and so, moonsik had taken all of his bottled up courage and used it to write a simple sentence.

lets meet at the ice during the light festival

     he makes himself at home in the corner of one of the practice rooms, bringing only a water bottle, a ghost radio and some metal rods he had recently added to his ghost hunting equipment. incredibly professional. he lets out a yawn, already feeling tired as the clock ticks closer to the 3am, they were set to meet here in a couple more minutes. 

     in the meantime, he decides to delve deep into his reverie, rediscovering that same fear he had when he was five. right after his father had died, he would attempt to speak with the deceased man through his dreams. praying and praying and finally, getting a glimpse of the smile he used to get, one that would warm even his cold soul. there was a point in time when he truly believed that perhaps, if he had tried hard enough, his father would reappear again before him. but then, he hits a certain age when he loses his optimism. the mundane cycle of life smacking his rainbow filled reverie with the dull rhythm of life. and he loses all colour, a life now lived in monotony. he hears the door squeak opened, looking up, he let’s his corners tug into a smirk, “thought you’d chicken out for a second.” sliding the two rods in the other’s direction. 

when seojun’s phone lit up with a text from hyeon asking to meet him (something about running an errand together, whatever, he didn’t care, he was just relieved he’s no longer ignoring him), it didn’t take him much convincing to up and go. he hadn’t bothered to ask any questions either, but now it seems like he should’ve, considering how he found himself in an unexpected situation, one he evidently did not see coming. 

standing before him is no hyeon. instead, it was someone a little taller. leaner. prettier. but also a lot more annoying. unlikeable. unbearable. what is he doing here? at first, it seemed like it was an unfortunate coincidence, but then it clicked—it is no coincidence. it’s a scheme he hadn’t seen coming, one devised by none other than hyeon himself. seojun should’ve known this was what he meant by, “we’re debuting soon, it’s time the both of you learnt to get along”, or something sappy along those lines. (he wasn’t listening, too distracted by how good he looked with wet hair.)

now, it seems like he has two options. one, pretend he ended up at the wrong place and walk away. fast. or two, acknowledge that they were both tricked into this and get whatever was meant to be done, done. usually, seojun would opt for the easier option (in other words, the former), but something about the setting sun was eating into his newfound conscience. surely, he can’t leave him out here alone. it was getting dark and judging by his apparent lack of wit and reflexes, he’d probably get himself lost and injured, and who’s to blame when that happens? 

that leaves him with option two... which shouldn’t be too much of a challenge, right? all they had to do was get the boxes of marshmallows and make their way back to the campfire. besides, he’d like to believe he is the one with the brains and brawn between the two of them, and that alone is enough reason to offer his help. can’t have mr clumsy falling into a ditch and delaying their debut. (or so he tells himself. whatever makes more sense than the unusual empathy he was developing for his nemesis.)

“let me guess,” the words roll out of his tongue reluctantly, a lazy eye-roll following after, “you were supposed to meet hyeon here but he didn’t show up?” he waves his phone in his hand, a defeated sigh leaving his lips. “well, if it wasn’t obvious enough, he’s not coming. we’ve both been tricked.” he declares, punctuating each sentence bitterly. “I know, you don’t want to be here, and neither do I. so, what do you say we get the damn marshmallows and get back out there?” 

I'm ready to love, 내게 말해 줘 Can we stay together? Can we stay together?

I'm a fool of love for you 내 맘을 네 곁에 forever, 네 곁에 forever

it was late when moonsik finally emerged from the studio, laptop tucked under his arm and backpack weighing down his small frame. he knows that he was due back in the dorm hours ago but, like usual, he had decided to forgo a good night’s sleep in order to cram in just a few more hours working on his newest project.

the people in the building were usually scarce once it reached the late hour, so moonsik couldn’t help but let curiosity get the best of him when he saw the light peeking through the door of a practice room. he quietly pulled the door open, planning on giving a quick polite greeting to whomever was inside. he knew the boy inside, but not all that well. they had only passed paths several times, and moonsik hadn’t had many compliments for him they few times that they had.

he watched in silence as the taller boy tripped over his feet while he ran through a choreography. it reminded moonsik of his younger self, he hadn’t been all that great at the whole dancing thing when he was first scouted. but it came along with practice, which the boy seemed willing to put in given the late hour and the fact that he was still tucked away in a practice room. he cleared his throat quietly, hoping not to scare him with his sudden presence before speaking. “it’s hard, isn’t it? i remember when my dancing was even worse than yours.”