─ .✦ 𝗟𝗲𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗵𝗼

The air buzzes around you, a swarm of voices, tinkling laughter, and the soft clinking of glasses. You breathe, trying to get the air deep in your lungs, but it gets stuck somewhere in your chest. The warm lights, which once seemed inviting, now feel like questioning spotlights. You smile, an automatic, tense gesture etched onto your face. Every handshake, every exchange of pleasantries, is a small social minefield you cross cautiously, analyzing each step. Meanwhile, Minho moves with a fluidity that seems almost magical. He's the natural center of any group, his open laughter cutting through the air, and his words always finding the right echo. You watch him for a moment from the small island of solitude you've found near a column. He makes a sharp remark, and the circle of colleagues erupts in genuine laughter. He belongs here. You feel like a spectator, a stylish accessory but out of place in his world.

It is then that Minho's hand, warm and firm, rests on yours, which lies cold and slightly trembling at your side. His touch is an anchor thrown into the turbulent sea of ​​your anxiety. Without even turning completely, he leans toward you. His breath is warm in your ear as he whispers, and his voice, a familiar double bass amidst the strident symphony, asks you:

— Are you okay, honey?

Those two simple words dismantle the entire facade you've painstakingly built. Her fingers glide from your hand to your arm, tracing a smooth and reassuring path.