stray kids imagines

minho | the initials

ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵠᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ
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fluff / 1334
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you had the letters L.MH on your left wrist for as long as you could remember. no one knew exactly why some people were born with markings like these, but they were rare and considered sacred, a sign of one’s soulmate, or so they said.

to you, it was both a thrill and a mystery. you would often find yourself staring at the letters, tracing the curves and lines with your fingers as you wondered who they belonged to.

sometimes, you would dream about the person with the initials L.MH - in your imagination, they were someone kind, someone who could make you laugh easily, someone who would understand you without the need for words.

a soulmate.

that word sounded so big and mythical that you dared not think too hard about it, yet you couldn’t help but hope.

___

across town, lee minho had his own set of initials etched into his skin: (your initials).

for minho, those letters had been a mystery too, one that he sometimes looked at with a mixture of curiosity and impatience. there were days when he’d wonder who (your initials) was, what they liked, what kind of laugh they had, and whether they’d be someone he could share his quiet thoughts with.

would they understand his passion for music? would they be the type to go on late-night walks? he found himself dreaming of a gentle soul, someone who’d bring lightness to his life.

but as the years went by, both you and minho tried not to think about it too often.

life was messy, unpredictable, and you had learned not to expect too much from things you couldn’t control.

both of you tried dating, tried being open to the idea of love even outside the initials on your wrists.

and yet, each time you’d look down, those letters reminded you that maybe, just maybe, they were meant for someone you hadn’t yet met.

___

it was a rainy autumn afternoon when your worlds would finally collide.

you had been stuck in a café, waiting for the downpour to ease up. you sat at a corner table, sketching in your notebook, your head leaning on your hand.

it was your favourite spot in the city - a small, warm café tucked between two bustling streets. you loved the quiet hum, the smell of coffee, the way you could watch people go about their day through the large glass windows.

meanwhile, minho, who rarely ventured into this part of town, had taken shelter there by sheer chance.

he walked in, shaking rain from his umbrella, and ordered his drink with a sigh.

as he looked around for a place to sit, his gaze fell on a person lost in their notebook, a soft expression on their face.

he took his drink and thanked the cashier as he stared walking towards the person.