SUMMARY Minho is more than the Acquirer.
CHARACTERS/PAIRINGS [SHINee] Minho. Dare I say one-sided Minho/Jinki? In an un-heart-breaking way.
GENRE Supernatural/light horror/humor/suspense/romance
AN: Just a drabble-ish interlude from Minho's POV.
in close orbit;
Minho had always considered himself more than just the Acquirer. He had a lot of other given names, known by a myriad of people and creatures alike. He did a lot of things besides acquiring.
Minho observed. He watched Jinki the most, finding the Landlord fascinating even at his most boring—when he read, or when he got that dazed look to his face, about to sleep, but never quite.
Minho noticed. Jinki's tired eyes, or the constant sway in his step, a slight dragging. Even with Taemin around, constantly distracting Jinki, Minho could still clearly see that the Landlord was very, very tired.
Minho thought. Of course Minho thought. It was the very basic nature of any intelligent creature's being, thought. But Minho thought about what Jinki was looking for, and why he was looking for it, and if there was really anything to be found.
Minho wondered. If one has thought, then one has wonderment, and Minho wondered if the link between Jinki's insomnia and his curse was connected. He wondered, because he, unlike Jinki, knew that they were not the same thing.
Minho helped. It might be against his very nature, to really help a person without an ulterior motive, but for Jinki, he didn't care. He would always point Jinki in the right direction, or be there to explain the unexplainable. It was, he had to admit, a little too entertaining.
Minho stole. He was an Acquirer, so ultimately, the things he acquired were often stolen from others. He stole the music box from a room harboring a dying boy, he stole Taemin's soul and put it there. He stole Chaos and made it something else.
Minho gave. He only really gave to Jinki without requiring compensation. He gave Jinki what he needed—another piece to his puzzle—a heart, perhaps—or just the broken spell, smashed music box, love. He gave Jinki chances, when the Landlord really should have none.
Minho lied. There were secrets to keep, and villains to play. If Minho had to play them, he would. If he had to keep secrets that would pain Jinki, but help him in the long run—of course he would. Those were what he was best at, after all.
Minho loved. He wasn't sure if it was Jinki he loved, or how anything that surrounded Jinki instantly took orbit around him, like he was a brilliant sun and they were enchanted.
Perhaps he, too, had become a part of that orbit.