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writetomyheart2016-03-02 08:36 pm
nachtegael.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2016-03-02 08:36 pm
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[Team One] Misery's Companion
Not-exactly-happy Xiuhan.
It was going to be cold. Minseok knew as soon as he rolled over and his nose got chilled peeking out from the bundle of covers. His brain wasn’t awake yet, but his bones were. They ached. His throat yawned, dry and raw, as he rolled over on his side again. The comforter fell down around his shoulders and he emerged with a shiver, his heels hitting the floor with a dull thud.
The shower was warm, at least. Minseok huddled under the spray, grateful he’d remembered to turn on the water heater before bed. It would have been more energy efficient to turn it on in the morning, but then he would have had to wait twenty minutes for it to do its job. The only way Minseok could trust himself to wake up and not put his socks in the toaster and water the plants with his orange juice was to hop straight in the shower and let the steam work its magic.
He shut the water off once the bathroom mirror had fogged over and his fingertips were starting to shrivel with moisture. He pulled a hand towel from the top shelf of the cabinet above the sink and patted it along his limbs, capping it over the sodden mess of his tangled hair before pulling his pajamas back on. They were warm now too, if a little damp in spots from accidental splashes.
“Good morning,” Minseok sang to the plants as he filled a small tin watering can at the kitchen sink. He made sure to mix the taps, hot and cold, and test the temperature on his wrist before drizzling the water into the row of terracotta pots. He hummed as he watched the potting soil covering the delicate roots of his herb plants and succulents darken as it soaked up the water.
“Does that feel nice? Hm?” He emptied the last dribble of water into the sink and set the can upside down on the counter to air dry. “I’m ready for a drink myself,” he said to himself as he popped open the fridge door. One of the magnets, a ceramic tomato that tended to be a little top heavy, started to slide down the door, but Minseok caught it with one hand and fished out the orange juice carton with the other.
He poured a splash into a heavy bottomed juice glass, just enough to enjoy the taste of citrus without spiking his blood sugar before he could swallow some protein. Perhaps he should get around to fixing his blender so he could start drinking those breakfast shakes Baekhyun was always hounding him about, he thought as he slid the juice box back into the fridge door. Or maybe he should just shell out for one of those new submersion ones that would be simpler to clean.
Either way, blender shopping would have to wait until he got back from their trip. Minseok glanced at the two suitcases lined up by the door, Lu Han’s fat black hardshell with the silver spangled wheels and three combination locks next to his own tweed carry on zipped into a brown dust cover.
Today was the day, assuming Lu Han actually got out of bed and they made it to the airport in time to board their flight. Minseok swallowed the rest of his juice without tasting it and rinsed the acid from his mouth with water from the sink. He couldn’t help from wishing that some last minute kink would upset their plans, but he knew that even if they were late to the airport Lu Han would just demand standby seats on the next direct flight to Thailand. And that this was probably the one and only event Lu Han would leave the house on time for all year. He’d spoken of nothing else for weeks.
Sure enough, the alarm sounded from the bedroom a moment later, followed by a long groan and a muffled curse. Then a sharp crack as Lu Han chucked the radio clock at the bookcase, his daily routine. The door creaked open.
“What’s for breakfast?”
Minseok looked away, pretending to study the misshapen lumps of snow melting into the front lawn to avoid the sight of Lu Han’s gaping yawn. Lu Han never bothered to cover his mouth, not unless they were in public or in the company of someone he was trying to impress.
“Never mind, I’m not going to eat. It’ll just make me sick on the plane.”
Minseok waited until Lu Han’s footsteps had retreated across the bathroom threshold before he turned to open the fridge again. He pulled out the hard boiled egg he had been saving for breakfast, the last meal at home for the next two weeks. Hotel food could get old pretty fast, but it wouldn’t be bad having someone else to wash the dishes for a change.
Minseok gathered the bits of shell that had dropped onto the counter with his thumbnail and swept them into the trash before soaping a sponge. He swirled the suds off his plate and juice glass with a blast of hot water from the sink and stacked them in the dish drain next to the watering can.
All ready to go, save dressing and getting Lu Han out the door. Minseok felt a bubble of lightness lift in his chest when he glanced at their suitcases again. If he wasn’t so well acquainted with the feeling of dread he might have mistaken it for excitement.
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softboys !
It was going to be cold. Minseok knew as soon as he rolled over and his nose got chilled peeking out from the bundle of covers. His brain wasn’t awake yet, but his bones were. They ached. His throat yawned, dry and raw, as he rolled over on his side again. The comforter fell down around his shoulders and he emerged with a shiver, his heels hitting the floor with a dull thud.
The shower was warm, at least. Minseok huddled under the spray, grateful he’d remembered to turn on the water heater before bed. It would have been more energy efficient to turn it on in the morning, but then he would have had to wait twenty minutes for it to do its job. The only way Minseok could trust himself to wake up and not put his socks in the toaster and water the plants with his orange juice was to hop straight in the shower and let the steam work its magic.
He shut the water off once the bathroom mirror had fogged over and his fingertips were starting to shrivel with moisture. He pulled a hand towel from the top shelf of the cabinet above the sink and patted it along his limbs, capping it over the sodden mess of his tangled hair before pulling his pajamas back on. They were warm now too, if a little damp in spots from accidental splashes.
“Good morning,” Minseok sang to the plants as he filled a small tin watering can at the kitchen sink. He made sure to mix the taps, hot and cold, and test the temperature on his wrist before drizzling the water into the row of terracotta pots. He hummed as he watched the potting soil covering the delicate roots of his herb plants and succulents darken as it soaked up the water.
“Does that feel nice? Hm?” He emptied the last dribble of water into the sink and set the can upside down on the counter to air dry. “I’m ready for a drink myself,” he said to himself as he popped open the fridge door. One of the magnets, a ceramic tomato that tended to be a little top heavy, started to slide down the door, but Minseok caught it with one hand and fished out the orange juice carton with the other.
He poured a splash into a heavy bottomed juice glass, just enough to enjoy the taste of citrus without spiking his blood sugar before he could swallow some protein. Perhaps he should get around to fixing his blender so he could start drinking those breakfast shakes Baekhyun was always hounding him about, he thought as he slid the juice box back into the fridge door. Or maybe he should just shell out for one of those new submersion ones that would be simpler to clean.
Either way, blender shopping would have to wait until he got back from their trip. Minseok glanced at the two suitcases lined up by the door, Lu Han’s fat black hardshell with the silver spangled wheels and three combination locks next to his own tweed carry on zipped into a brown dust cover.
Today was the day, assuming Lu Han actually got out of bed and they made it to the airport in time to board their flight. Minseok swallowed the rest of his juice without tasting it and rinsed the acid from his mouth with water from the sink. He couldn’t help from wishing that some last minute kink would upset their plans, but he knew that even if they were late to the airport Lu Han would just demand standby seats on the next direct flight to Thailand. And that this was probably the one and only event Lu Han would leave the house on time for all year. He’d spoken of nothing else for weeks.
Sure enough, the alarm sounded from the bedroom a moment later, followed by a long groan and a muffled curse. Then a sharp crack as Lu Han chucked the radio clock at the bookcase, his daily routine. The door creaked open.
“What’s for breakfast?”
Minseok looked away, pretending to study the misshapen lumps of snow melting into the front lawn to avoid the sight of Lu Han’s gaping yawn. Lu Han never bothered to cover his mouth, not unless they were in public or in the company of someone he was trying to impress.
“Never mind, I’m not going to eat. It’ll just make me sick on the plane.”
Minseok waited until Lu Han’s footsteps had retreated across the bathroom threshold before he turned to open the fridge again. He pulled out the hard boiled egg he had been saving for breakfast, the last meal at home for the next two weeks. Hotel food could get old pretty fast, but it wouldn’t be bad having someone else to wash the dishes for a change.
Minseok gathered the bits of shell that had dropped onto the counter with his thumbnail and swept them into the trash before soaping a sponge. He swirled the suds off his plate and juice glass with a blast of hot water from the sink and stacked them in the dish drain next to the watering can.
All ready to go, save dressing and getting Lu Han out the door. Minseok felt a bubble of lightness lift in his chest when he glanced at their suitcases again. If he wasn’t so well acquainted with the feeling of dread he might have mistaken it for excitement.
Tagging
softboys !