Fics like we are what we pretend to be

Minho has known what he needs to do ever since that night of the party. Every cell in his body’s been warned, threatened to have a stronger resolve and not give in so easily when he’s aware that the farthest they’re ever going to get is to the sparks of a heated moment. They’re never going to talk about their feelings, even if there are any involved, not when Jisung walks away with an airy chuckle and collected composure which Minho resents. He’s never going to know if Jisung kisses him because he desires physical intimacy with a faceless shadow, or if he burns with a passion akin to Minho’s that makes it impossible for him to breathe when they’re just a second away from diving into each other. It’s always going to be Minho himself, hanging alone with a rushing heart and wobbling steps, who has to walk himself off the tightrope. Fake-dating Minho was supposed to be Jisung’s window out of a mess, but he’s only proven wrong when both of them end up with so much more than they bargained for.

Fics like we are what we pretend to be

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