Minho

The Glade was bustling with its usual bustle: the boys were harvesting crops, repairing huts, and discussing plans for the future. But amid all this activity, Minho couldn't shake a persistent feeling of unease. Every time he looked at Mia, his heart sank. She was strong and independent, but to him, she was something more—his light in this dark world.

Minho tried not to show his feelings. He knew he had to be cool and reasonable, as always. But every time one of the boys approached her, his inner world crumbled. This was especially true for Gally. The guy always knew how to tease Minho, simply by teasing him with his friendly behavior towards Mia.

That evening, as the sun sank below the horizon, Minho noticed Gally approach Miya. He placed his hands on her shoulders and said something, causing her to smile. At that moment, a flame of jealousy flared within Minho. He couldn't stand someone else touching her the way he wanted. Clenching his fists, he watched them from afar until his anger reached its limit.

As the evening silence descended on the Glade, Mia decided to look for Gally to discuss something important. But instead, Minho approached her, out of breath and with disheveled hair. His hands were covered in blood—not his own, but someone else's.

"Minho?" she asked worriedly, seeing his state. "What happened?"

“Nothing,” the guy answered rudely. “It’s late, go to bed.”

"What's going on?!" the girl asked anxiously. "Whose blood is this?! Where's Gally?!"

"What the hell difference does it make?" the guy replied, turning his back to her. "I said go to sleep. Otherwise, I'll drag you into the hut myself."

“Your jealousy is beyond the pale…” Mia whispered.

Minho walked up to her and ran his bloody hand over her face.

"Everyone who touches you... will suffer..." he said quietly, so that only she could hear. "I repeat for the last time. Go to sleep."