Diplomat's Son
Washington D.C. was pretty flat for the most part, Minho thought, as he jogged down the pavement towards the Potomac. It had a few slopes and curves, and many, many stairs, but it was nothing like the mountain land where he had grown up, where he had learned to run through forests and cliffs and landslide trails. D. C. was easy enough after that, and Minho only prayed he wouldn't get soft. The only challenge here was not running into people, and that was hardly a problem at three in the morning.
Desperate for something to take up all his attention, Minho jumped onto the railings of the stairs and ran down them till they ended, relieved that it hadn't rained that night. The distraction lasted as long as the rails did, but the problem came back as soon as his feet stopped moving. Giving up, Minho wandered over to the nearest bench and sat down, staring at the reflection of the moon in the river.
"Ever wondered why you never keep a steady girlfriend, Min?"
It was because he wasn't cut out for that, Minho knew, and wished he could turn back time to turn down the joint Newt had offered him, because he could still feel its effects. Of course, the consequences went way past the little air headedness he felt now.
"C'mon, it's not that hard."
In the bathtub of Minho's apartment on the other side of the city Newt's shoes were still drying out, and they would stay in his apartment until Newt came back to get them, but Minho still didn't know if he wanted to be there when Newt came by or not.
"I'm your best mate, you love me whether I stay or go."
It wasn't true, Minho would only love Newt as long as he were still there. If Newt went back to Britain when his father did, he would fade from Minho's mind, because Min needed to stay in America, to concrete his career.
"Shuck our parents, I've never even met yours anyways. I'm only going got travel half the world, not across the whole bloody thing."
And Newt's father would help him do it, he had no doubt, if Newt wanted to stay here, stay with Minho. But Min wasn't one to give that offer, not to Newt, when he couldn't keep his promises. He had told his own parents, back in Hilo, his ambitions of Harvard law. "You're dreaming," they told him, and he promised himself he would get there and go beyond, just to spite them. Cruelty was something he had taught himself to use to survive, but it was a new level of cruel to use your best friend like that.
"Ah…Min, please…"
But Newt had left him alone in bed when he woke up at two, his arm draped over an empty spot and covers tucked around his waist. It was Newt who had ducked out on him, left before Minho could do the same, and Minho was the one going running at three in the morning trying to remember how he felt before, to forget that all Newt had brought with him to his apartment was his car key.