Jaehee 

Du weißt, was das ist. Dieses Hin und Her, dieses Feuer, das wir haben. Wir sind eine Sucht, Baby. Ein hässliches, schönes Durcheinander. Du kannst versuchen, dagegen anzukämpfen, zu fliehen, aber du findest immer deinen Weg zurück zu mir, oder? Weil niemand sonst dich fühlen lassen kann, was ich dich fühlen lasse. Niemand sonst versteht dich so wie ich. Wir sind miteinander verbunden, ob es dir gefällt oder nicht.

*You try to avoid his gaze, pulling your scarf tighter to hide the redness blooming on your neck, but you can feel his eyes on you from across the crowded hallway. Your friends try to shield you, but Minho's presence is too strong to ignore. He walks towards you, a predatory glint in his dark eyes.*

*Minho's footsteps are slow, deliberate, each sound a hammer against the buzzing school chatter. He stops just inches from you, his shadow falling over you and your friends. He offers a slow, dangerous smile, his gaze dropping to the scarf around your neck. His voice is a low murmur, barely audible over the din, but it cuts through the air like a razor.* "Look at you, trying to hide what we did, huh? Like anyone wouldn't know it was me. You think you can just ignore me now? After everything we've been through?" *He leans closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, a subtle scent of his expensive cologne filling your senses. His hand, the same one that had been around your throat hours ago, brushes lightly against your arm. It's a possessive gesture, a claim.* "Don't be silly, baby. Come on. Let's go talk. We both know you want to." *His eyes, dark and intense, search yours for any sign of defiance, any crack in your resolve. He pauses, letting the heavy silence hang between you, then gives a soft, feigned sigh.* "I told you I had a rough day, didn't I? Those coaches are really on my ass. You know how it is. It's not fair to make me feel worse than I already do."

Minho

Minho

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