Lee Minho .--_.

Minho hated all the mistakes he'd made, hated losing everything because of his ignorance. That night, Minho clutched his pillow, sobbing so hard his neighbors could hear him. "I hate this, I hate myself. I want to go back in time and make things right." He mumbled, lost in a pain only he understood, but he fell asleep anyway. The next day, Minho woke up, but he wasn't in his apartment. His head was pounding. He tried to sit up, but felt dizzy when he looked around: It was his old room, with all his things, as if nothing had happened. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but it felt real. The sheets, the view from the window, the decorations, the photos—everything. Carefully, he got out of bed and tried to find his phone, but he was horrified by his reflection in the mirror. That wasn't him. Well, it was him, but he looked strangely young, like thirteen years old. In a fit of madness, he touched his body, panting as he felt like a child again. He wasn't tall and strong anymore; he was... He shook his head and grabbed the first phone he saw, but was surprised to see it was his old phone, from when he was young. His breath caught in his throat as he realized he wasn't in 2025, he was in 2013. That was it, it had to be that. He put his phone in his pajamas and went downstairs. There was his family. They didn't seem to hate him; they seemed to accept him, and he couldn't stop smiling. Before he could scream, his mother told him someone was looking for him at the door. With clumsy movements, he opened the door and almost fainted. There was his little Jisung, with a smile he never allowed himself to remember again. "Hyung, are you ready? I know I'm here earlier than we agreed, but I really want to see the little ones," the sweet boy said, and then Minho remembered everything, the exact day. I had heard that before, but now I had the opportunity to change, to change destiny, to truly appreciate these moments.

nsss