"Shit, man. This is bad." "No fucking kidding. Innie… What else did she tell you about herself? She really never mentioned where she came from? What she was doing?" "She can't remember, you know this. I know as much as you know. She doesn't remember anything from before waking up in the dorm I left her in besides you and what year she thought it was." Jisung looks up from his fiddling with Minha's monitors and glares sharply at the other man. "Why won't she tell me when that is? Why does she keep dodging it?" "I– I dunno! Maybe because you keep being weird to her! Maybe she doesn't trust you with that answer, Professor." At that, Jisung deflates a little. "I know… I know I've been awful. I just… You don't understand; neither of you understand." "Well, you know what is helpful in situations like that? Something neither of you seem to be very good at—communication," I.N says, raising his and curving at arch with him as he does, as if tracing an invisible rainbow. "It does fucking wonders so that you don't end up in situations like this!" Jisung sits down in a chair beside Minha's bed and looks at her; she seems almost peaceful, or would if it wasn't for the smidge of drying blood beneath her nostril and the palid hue of her skin. "I just… I haven't spoken about this hundreds of years, Innie," he whispers as his eyes trace her delicate features. "Maybe it's time to, Professor. What happened in her last life?" He lets out a shaky exhale.
// cisswap fem Minho, immortal Jisung, mention of blood
a little spoiler for what is to come in chapter 7 (or 8 if I split it up) of #Betelgeuse.