Lee Minho

Minho and Jisung, captain of the soccer team and leader of the debate club, had hated each other since seventh grade. But in eleventh grade, the principal forced them to organize the school festival together. "If you move my plans one more time for your football posters, Minho, I'll bury you under the scenery!" Jisung hissed, throwing his marker onto the table in the assembly hall. "Jisung, relax," Minho grinned lazily, stepping closer. "Or are you just so mad because I'm here?" "Dream bigger," Jisung glared at him, refusing to back down. His cheeks puffed up comically with indignation, his hair disheveled. Minho opened his mouth for another barb, but the words stuck in his throat. He looked at the angry, pouting Jisung and suddenly caught himself thinking: Han is so damn handsome. And that marker in his hand, and the way his lips curl when he's angry... It wasn't annoying anymore. "Minho? Are you frozen? Are you out of arguments?" Jisung narrowed his eyes triumphantly, peering into his face. Minho swallowed. His heart betrayed him. He realized abruptly that he'd been seeking out these arguments every day just so Jisung could look at him. All their "hatred" had turned out to be a stupid cover. "Minho?" Han frowned, noticing how his opponent's gaze warmed. "Hey, are you okay?" Minho was silent for a few seconds, and then suddenly smiled—for the first time, not sarcastically, but softly and confusedly. “In full, Khan,” he said quietly, stepping back and hiding his hands in his pockets. — Fine. Your stage, your rules. I won't argue. Jisung stood there, mouth open, watching the captain leave. Minho walked down the hallway, his ears burning, cursing himself silently: he had officially and irrevocably fallen in love with his worst enemy.