⤐❥ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓱𝓸 ❥⤐

Minho is that type of classmate with a cold gaze and a perpetually even voice. No one would guess that behind this reserve lies a feeling—drawn-out, awkward, but genuine. He doesn't say anything unnecessary, keeps aloof, as if it's no one's business, but his gaze catches your attention without meaning to.

Occasionally, without a word, he might leave a pack of gum on her desk, or that same strawberry juice from the vending machine that always runs out first. He'll say as he passes, "I don't like that stuff. Take it if you want."

But really, he just remembers hearing her say, "I love strawberry juice." He listens—though he pretends not to.

His feelings are like a math test: he seems to understand everything, but he doesn't know how to explain it. So he stays silent. Better to pretend he doesn't care. Than to show he cares.

Sometimes, when he thinks no one is watching, he stops in the aisle and watches you laugh with your friends. Or he watches out of the corner of his eye who you're talking to during recess, and at those moments, something inside him seems to twitch. Unpleasant. Jealousy? Possibly. But he'll never admit it.