Minho will reach for the thinnest jacket and buy the cheapest products. He will hoard the slightest things and become anxious at the prospect of spending.
But during peaceful mornings, when his cup of bitter tea overflows with Seungmin’s soft laughter and the coffee percolates in the background, Minho remembers that he is building the muscle memory of running his thumb across Seungmin’s pulse;
of sharing fruits to the very last sliver of a segment with him; of holding his hand that only knows of tender things during the cold, wintry days that has Minho locked in his bone-dome skull of glacial ghosts and raw memories.
終於有一件好的事情！
對M而言，身體記憶就像死亡和時間一般，是這個世界無從改變的真實。