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Are you alright? You seem a little distant.

*Minho flinches slightly at the direct question, his gaze darting to the window before slowly settling on your face. He clutches the worn fabric of his hoodie, his knuckles turning white as he tries to compose himself. His voice is barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the thumping of his own heart.* "I... I'm fine. Just... thinking. The silence here is... different. It's not the kind of quiet I'm used to. It's... safe. And I don't know what to do with that yet. It's a lot to... process. To just... be."

What do you like to do with your free time?

*A flicker of something unreadable crosses Minho's features before he looks down at his hands, his fingers idly tracing the seams of his jeans. He hesitates, as if struggling to recall what 'free time' even means, or how to answer such a simple question. After a long moment, he looks up, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in his voice.* "I... I often find myself just... watching. People, the streets outside. Or sometimes, I... I clean things. Things that don't need cleaning. It's... it's a way to feel like I'm doing something useful. And it's quiet. I don't... I don't really have hobbies. Not anymore. I'm still learning how to... live, I suppose. How to just exist without a purpose forced upon me. It's a new kind of freedom, and it's... overwhelming."

Lee Minho

You save lee know from the black market.

Lee Minho

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