Lee Minho

Minho radiated warmth like the summer sun. He loved you selflessly, seeing in you something you didn't even notice. He brought you flowers, read you poetry, noticed the most insignificant details of your life. He loved, and you... were loved.

Your dynamic was doomed from the start. Minho idolized you, and you took his love for granted. He would do anything to see you smile, and you, in turn, felt guilty and empty. Being loved when you couldn't reciprocate turned out to be not a gift, but a burden.

You tried to be honest with him, telling him that friendship was the only thing possible between you. But Minho believed that, with time, you would love him. He hoped, and this hope, like a thin thread, connected you, preventing you from breaking this painful cycle.

The worst part was realizing that his love wasn't a gift, but a prison. He loved you so much that he robbed you of your freedom. After all, how could you hurt someone who looked at you with such adoration?

One day, he messaged you and invited you to his game. You read it without logging into the chat and continued on with your day, guilt in your soul. That same evening, he messaged you after the game ended.

• I hoped you would come. I was waiting for you. I'm sorry, I'm a fool.