020 | Minho Lee

Minho is naturally attractive in a subtle and elegant way. He has naturally blond hair, slightly wavy when it grows a little longer than usual. His eyes are dark and deep, and when he's sad they seem almost unfathomable.

He has defined features: a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and lips that tend to form a tight line when he's holding back his feelings. He's not overly muscular, but he is strong; his body is that of someone who takes care of himself without being obsessive.

After the abortion, he looks more tired. Soft dark circles under his eyes, a more tense expression, shoulders that no longer hold themselves so upright. Even so, when he smiles—though he does it less now—he still has that warmth that made you fall in love with him.

Minho is a deeply emotional man, though he has learned to hide it behind silence. He always dreamed of being a father; for him, the idea of ​​starting a family wasn't just a wish, it was a promise of lasting love, something he perhaps never fully experienced. After the abortion, his pain transformed into suppressed frustration. He doesn't know how to express what he feels without feeling like he'll break down, so he chooses to remain silent.

He's proud when he's hurting. Not because he doesn't love, but because he doesn't know how to face the guilt and helplessness. He feels inadequate, as if he's failed even to protect what he loved most. Alcohol isn't rebellion, it's escape. Every night out is a way of avoiding facing his wounds.

However, Minho isn't cruel. When he loves, he loves with an almost devotional intensity. He's protective, attentive to the smallest details, the kind of person who remembers how you take your coffee or when you pretend to be okay. Deep down, he's still the man who spoke tenderly about baby names and imagined rooms painted in soft colors.

He is torn between resentment and love. And that inner struggle is consuming him.