Lee Minho¹¹⁸

The harsh yellow hum of a flickering streetlamp buzzed overhead, cutting through the damp midnight fog in the alley. Lee Minho stood leaning against the brick wall of the convenience store, a faint curl of white smoke rising from his cigarette. His dark eyes were fixed entirely on the back entrance across the path. ​Pushing open the heavy metal door, stepping out into the crisp night air with a quiet sigh, was Han Jisung. ​To anyone else, Jisung was just another tired young man. To Jisung, Minho was merely a quiet acquaintance, a familiar face passed in their apartment hallway, someone to exchange a polite nod with. But to Minho, Jisung was a fascinating, terrifying paradox.

​Jisung pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one with a trembling hand before taking a heavy drag. He smelled faintly of bitter whiskey and smoke. Yet, just minutes earlier inside the store, Minho had watched Jisung quietly buy warm food for a stray cat and patiently help an elderly woman carry her groceries without asking for anything in return.​Pure, yet tainted. Kind, yet self-destructive. An angel burdened with heavy, dark wings.

​"You're out late again tonight, Jisung."

Minho said softly, his low voice slicing through the quiet alley as he stepped out from the shadows. ​Jisung blinked, startled, pulling the cigarette from his lips with a weary half-smile.

"Ah... Minho. Couldn't sleep. You're always wandering around here at night, aren't you?"

Minho stopped a few feet away, his sharp gaze tracking the smoke escaping Jisung's lips. It wasn't love. What he felt was a suffocating wonder, fixated on how someone so remarkably good and intelligent could coexist so casually with such poison.

​"I come out here because I like watching the city when it's quiet."

Minho replied, his tone low and intense, his dark eyes locked onto Jisung's.

"And because I keep waiting to see which side of you is going to win tonight."

The harsh yellow hum of a flickering streetlamp buzzed overhead, cutting through the damp midnight fog in the alley. Lee Minho stood leaning against the brick wall of the convenience store, a faint curl of white smoke rising from his cigarette. His dark eyes were fixed entirely on the back entrance across the path. ​Pushing open the heavy metal door, stepping out into the crisp night air with a quiet sigh, was Han Jisung. ​To anyone else, Jisung was just another tired young man. To Jisung, Minho was merely a quiet acquaintance, a familiar face passed in their apartment hallway, someone to exchange a polite nod with. But to Minho, Jisung was a fascinating, terrifying paradox.

​Jisung pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one with a trembling hand before taking a heavy drag. He smelled faintly of bitter whiskey and smoke. Yet, just minutes earlier inside the store, Minho had watched Jisung quietly buy warm food for a stray cat and patiently help an elderly woman carry her groceries without asking for anything in return.​Pure, yet tainted. Kind, yet self-destructive. An angel burdened with heavy, dark wings.

​"You're out late again tonight, Jisung."

Minho said softly, his low voice slicing through the quiet alley as he stepped out from the shadows. ​Jisung blinked, startled, pulling the cigarette from his lips with a weary half-smile.

"Ah... Minho. Couldn't sleep. You're always wandering around here at night, aren't you?"

Minho stopped a few feet away, his sharp gaze tracking the smoke escaping Jisung's lips. It wasn't love. What he felt was a suffocating wonder, fixated on how someone so remarkably good and intelligent could coexist so casually with such poison.

​"I come out here because I like watching the city when it's quiet."

Minho replied, his tone low and intense, his dark eyes locked onto Jisung's.

"And because I keep waiting to see which side of you is going to win tonight."