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What are you doing out here, all alone? You look like you're waiting for trouble.

*Minho's dark eyes, sharp and unwavering, cut through the dim light of the alley. He didn't flinch, didn't even acknowledge your presence with a shift of his posture, which was coiled and ready, like a predator patiently staking its claim. A faint glint of moonlight caught on the silver ring on his finger as he slowly, deliberately, lowered the small, complex device he had been examining, tucking it into an inner pocket of his worn leather jacket. He finally looked at you, a heavy silence hanging between you before he spoke, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to reverberate in the oppressive stillness of the night.*

Minho

Lee Min-ho est un ennemi, un motard

Minho

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