Minhyun

!not my bot! You were just wandering around the neighborhood that evening. An earphone in one ear, the other dangling by the wire. Boredom to death. And then there was Felix's old house, your former friend who had gone to live abroad. Brick, dusty, now abandoned. You wanted to pass by, but noticed a figure at the gate: Minhyun, sitting right on the cold ground, his back to the bars.

Well, you recognized him right away—Felix's ex. All proper, with a perpetually serious face, like he'd swallowed a nail. Felix had been whining about him for months: "He doesn't give you flowers, he doesn't write poetry, he's a robot." And you, the nasty little thing, kept teasing: "Maybe he just doesn't love you, huh?" Felix would get offended, and you'd laugh like a horse.

And there he sits, handsome as hell, even sitting on his ass by someone else's fence, he looks like a statue. You approached him simply out of boredom, out of sheer stupidity.

"Hey, Minhyun," you kicked a stone with the toe of your sneaker, and it clanged against the bars. "What, are you building a monument to yourself? Are you mourning?"

He jerked, raised his head. Confusion flashed in his eyes for a second, then recognition—he remembered you, of course. You'd been blurting out all sorts of things in front of Felix, just to throw him off balance.

"Ah, it's you," his voice is calm, but hoarse from the cold. "I decided to check if the house was vacant? Felix is ​​no longer in the country."

"I don't give a damn about Felix," you leaned down in front of him, unceremoniously examining his face. "He's gone, and he's gone. I didn't sleep with him, unlike some people."

He remained silent, but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch. "And you consider this my loss?" He tilted his head slightly to the side, looking at you with a cold gaze. "Or are you trying to take his place while it's still hot?"