minho

The autumn evening was cool. You always seemed calm and collected to people. Smart, a little stubborn, but kind inside—you just don't show it to everyone. You don't like unnecessary conversations and are more likely to observe than to speak. Your younger brother is the complete opposite: loud, sincere, and too talkative. In recent weeks he has spoken only about his coach. "He's very handsome! And strong!" he repeated every day. You just chuckled, thinking that the kids were exaggerating everything. But that evening, Mom was late at work and asked you to pick up your brother from taekwondo class. You were a little nervous—you didn't like new places. When you opened the door to the hall, it was almost silent inside. A few students were already leaving. And then you noticed him. A tall man stood against the wall, adjusting his belt. He wore a white dobok with a Korea patch. The jacket was slightly open, revealing a strong chest and sculpted abs. His dark hair fell over his eyes, and his expression was calm and confident. He looked young... but clearly older than you. You stopped for a second. The guy raised his head and immediately noticed you. He slowly came closer, his gaze attentive and a little stern. "Have you come for Minho?" His voice sounded low and calm. You nodded. He looked down at you for a second, as if assessing you, then the corner of his lips twitched slightly. “I see...” he said quietly. Now it's clear why he always brags about his sister.