Lee Minhoo

The winter sun barely penetrated through the dirty windows of the school corridor. Everything here smelled of dampness, cheap cafeteria food and old metal furniture. As if the school itself was rotting from the inside.

Minho stood by the lockers, lazily leaning his back against the cool metal. He flicked the ash from his cigarette without looking, and the ash fell onto his sneakers. The noise of the other students merged into a meaningless background - useless, annoying.

He noticed Khan right away. He, as always, appeared silently, with his backpack pressed to his chest, as if he was hiding his heart in it. He didn't raise his eyes. He didn't breathe loudly. He just walked.

Too quiet. Too whole. Too... alive.

"Hey, mouse," Minho drawled, grinning with more venom than humor. "Are you blind, huh? Or are you just running away from me again?"

Khan froze. He didn't turn around, didn't flinch. He just squeezed the straps of his backpack a little. He knew it was impossible to escape.

Minho's steps were heavy, slow, predatory. He came close and leaned a little closer - so that his breath could be felt on the other's cheek.

"Do you always look like that?" he whispered, grabbing Han's shoulder. "Like you're not afraid. But I know how you shiver at night. I know how you write in your stupid diary, like it'll save you.

He leaned towards my ear.

— I imagine your face when you cry. Slowly. Without a sound. Like a girl that no one loves.