Minho loved his members, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel left out.
When they talked casually in English—especially Chan, Felix, and Jeongin—it felt like he was sitting behind a glass wall. Words flew past him, fragments of meaning catching in his brain but never quite forming a full picture.
"Hyung, you good?" Felix would ask, noticing Minho's quiet demeanor.
Minho would nod, flashing a tight smile. "Yeah, fine."
But he wasn't fine.
The jokes didn't help.
When Minho tried to join in, his broken English always seemed to draw laughter. It wasn't malicious; he knew they were just teasing. Still, it stung.
One day, during dinner, Minho tried to say something in English to impress the others. The words got tangled in his mouth, and Jisung burst out laughing.
"Hyung, what was that?" Jisung teased, tears in his eyes.
"Leave him alone," Chan said, though he was hiding a grin himself.
Minho laughed along with them, but it felt hollow. He shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth to hide the lump in his throat.
Chan noticed.
He always noticed when something was off with his members, but Minho was harder to read. The others wore their emotions on their sleeves, but Minho was like a locked diary. Still, Chan saw the flicker of pain in his eyes that night and decided to do something about it.
The next day, Chan came back to the dorm with a small stack of beginner English books.
"What's that?" Minho asked, eyeing the books skeptically.
"They're for you," Chan said, smiling. "Thought you might want to learn. I'll help you."
Minho blinked, unsure of what to say.
"Unless you don't want to," Chan added quickly, suddenly unsure.
"No, I want to," Minho said, his voice quiet. "Thanks, hyung."
Chan's smile widened.
From then on, Chan became Minho's unofficial English tutor.
Minho was surprisingly dedicated, spending hours flipping through the books. Every now and then, he'd run to Chan, waving the book like an excited child.
"Hyung, what's this word?" Minho asked one night, pointing at a word in the middle of a sentence.
Chan leaned over, reading the page. "Ah, that's 'adventure.'"
"Ad-ven...ture," Minho repeated, his accent thick but adorable.
Chan chuckled. "Perfect. You're getting good, Minho-yah."
Minho's face lit up, and Chan felt his heart skip a beat.
Over time, Minho's confidence grew. He still struggled with grammar and pronunciation, but he didn't let it stop him. He worked harder, motivated by the way Chan always encouraged him, never laughed at his mistakes.
What Minho didn't realize was that Chan was falling for him.
It was the way Minho's eyes sparkled when he mastered a new word, the way his pout deepened when he couldn't figure something out. It was the little moments, like when Minho accidentally called him "beautiful" instead of "helpful" and blushed furiously when Chan teased him about it.
Chan was smitten.
Minho wasn't oblivious to his own feelings either.
He realized he'd fallen for Chan one night after a long practice session. As he watched Chan quietly work on his laptop, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the screen, Minho thought, I want to tell him.
But if he was going to confess, it had to be special.
He decided to confess in English.
Minho practiced for weeks. He wrote out his speech, memorized it, and rehearsed in front of the mirror late at night. He wanted it to be perfect—for Chan.
Finally, the day came.
"Chan-hyung," Minho said, his voice trembling slightly.
Chan looked up from his laptop, surprised by Minho's serious tone. "What's up?"
Minho took a deep breath, his hands fidgeting nervously. Then, in halting but determined English, he began.
"Chan, you... are very special to me. You always help me... and make me happy. I... love you."
His accent was thick, his grammar imperfect, but the sincerity in his voice made Chan's heart swell.
For a moment, Chan just stared at him, stunned. Then he broke into the biggest smile Minho had ever seen.
"Minho-yah," Chan said softly, pulling him into a hug. "That was beautiful. Thank you."
Minho buried his face in Chan's shoulder, his ears burning. "I'm not good," he mumbled.
"Are you kidding?" Chan said, pulling back just enough to look at him. "It was perfect. You're perfect."
Minho's blush deepened, and Chan couldn't resist pressing a kiss to his forehead.
minho's english is just cute. i can't help it
