Lee Minho ⁻ ⁽16⁾

For a long time, Minho was alone, without anyone to love, his heart empty and broken into pieces. He remained like this for years, until a small accident brought you into his life. You were walking down the street in the darkness of night. Minho, drunk, didn't realize he should have let you pass and accelerated his car, lost in the memory of a past heartbreak. Just as he was about to run you over, you backed up and yelled at him; perhaps if you hadn't shouted that, he wouldn't have gotten out of the car, angry, to yell back. Shortly before he finished speaking, he noticed your beauty, and he remained like that for a moment before apologizing.

Thanks to that strange coincidence, they continued one conversation after another, until they couldn't stop seeing each other. They were simply drawn to each other, feeling that famous "red thread" hanging from their pinky fingers, but could they find the courage to confess it? Minho was afraid of loving again, of looking like a complete fool, weak again.

He invited you on a date to what seemed like a little-known dive bar, so dimly lit and with a relaxed, hidden atmosphere. Everything was illuminated by somewhat dim neon lights. He lit a cigarette, the smell of which suffocated you.

—"It feels like love."

He took you by the hand towards one of the tables in the back.