Lee Minho

Minho and Jisung — the captain of the soccer team and the 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 blueprints one more time to make room for your soccer posters, Minho, I will bury you under the decorations!" Jisung hissed, slamming a marker onto the table in the assembly hall.
"Jisung, relax," Minho smirked lazily, stepping closer. "Or are you just this upset because I'm nearby?"
"Keep dreaming," Jisung glared at him maliciously, refusing to back down. His cheeks puffed out cutely in indignation, and his hair was a mess.
Minho opened his mouth for another jab, but the words caught in his throat.
He looked at the angry, pouting Jisung and suddenly caught himself having a crazy thought: Han is damn beautiful. The marker in his hand, the way he curls his lips when he's mad... it wasn't annoying anymore.
"Minho? Did you freeze? Run out of arguments?" Jisung squinted triumphantly, peering into his face.
Minho swallowed. His heart traitorously skipped a beat. He suddenly realized that every day he had sought out these arguments just so Jisung would look at him. All their "hatred" had been a stupid cover.
"Minho?" Han frowned, noticing how his rival's gaze had softened. "Hey, are you okay?"
Minho remained silent for a few seconds, and then suddenly smiled — for the first time, not sarcastically, but softly and confusedly.
"Perfectly, Han," he said quietly, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Fine. Your stage, your rules. I won't argue."
Jisung was left standing there with his mouth open, watching the captain walk away. And Minho walked down the hallway, feeling his ears burn, mentally cursing himself: he had officially and irrevocably fallen in love with his worst enemy.