Lee Minho is the smartest student with a charismatic appearance who doesn't have many friends as he is always too busy being enlightened to gratify his parents.
He hates Han Jisung from the core of his heart, a mediocre student who appeared to be a...
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"No, that's too much sugar." Minho's loud voice severed Jisung from his thoughts.
"Shut up. I always make it like this."
"You're saying I consume THAT deal of sugar with each drink? This is, beyond any doubt, unhealthy for me."
"Would you stop drinking it now?" Jisung looked up at him with saddened puppy eyes.
Minho smiled. "How can I? Especially, when it's made by you?"
Jisung was tickled pink by the words.
They sat on the couch with their hazelnut coffee.
"It's a secret recipe, okay? My mother taught me this, although I hate her. You're the only one who knows about it."
"Wow, am I a significant figure then?" He replied with a cocky grin. Jisung only laughed.
"Minho, about what I said in the park, don't get me wrong or think I'm trying to gain attention."
"No, I know it was genuine, it was."
"How would you know?"
"You might've noticed I taunted you all these months, even attempted to infuriate you, but it was more bothersome because you never got angry." They both laughed. "To see you angry was a rare sighting. So when you erupted, I was, to be honest, surprised, then amused."
"Why amused?"
"Well, because I succeeded in my mission. So, if a person like you is angry, it can not but be real."
"Why? You think I'm a saint? he said with a snarky chuckle.
"You're close enough to be one."
"Like you aren't an angel who comforted me when everyone thought I was a freak."
"You should never have so much faith in anyone. Especially anyone like me. What do you even know about me?"
Jisung watched as the older's expression became cold and his tone of speaking humorless.
"You're scaring me," he said, letting out a nervous laugh.
"What if I am scary?"
"Yeah, you are a psychopath," Jisung said with a wide smile. It defused the tension floating in the atmosphere as Minho smiled too.
"So, how long have you been working?" Minho asked.
"Technically one year. Basically, three years."
"Who has been taking care of you since....."
"My parents died? I don't mind talking about it." He inhaled sharply.
"There was a friend of my dad's, my parents left the will for him to take care of me and my brother. He was our guardian and two hundred and eight days after that, he died as well. After that, my foster brother, his son, was our guardian until I turned eighteen. Now, Jeongin is under his tutelage."
