Chasing Perfection || Lee Know

Where the Night ends

Minho's eyes snapped open, heart pounding as he struggled to shake off the lingering grogginess. He glanced at the clock—2:47 AM. His throat was parched, and a dull ache pulsed in his body. Grumbling softly, he threw off the covers and headed downstairs, the faint moonlight casting shadows across the floor.

But halfway down the stairs, a soft shuffle of movement froze him in his tracks. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It was unmistakable—the sound of someone in his house.

Adrenaline surged through him, and he instinctively reached for his phone, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. Calmly, he dialed the police.

"This is Lee Minho. There's a break-in at my residence. Four or five men, possibly armed." His voice was steady, but his heart hammered against his ribs as he listened to the operator.

He shoved the phone back into his pocket, turning toward the living room. A flick of the light switch illuminated the chaotic scene in front of him. The robbers froze for an instant, staring at him in shock. Then, all hell broke loose.

One of the men darted forward, aiming a punch that Minho narrowly dodged. He retaliated with a quick jab, sending the man stumbling backward, but before Minho could react, another assailant swung a crowbar at him. It caught him across the arm, the blow leaving a searing pain in its wake.

A third man lunged from behind, knocking him off balance and slamming him into the wall. Minho's head collided with the plaster, and a sharp pain exploded in his forehead. The world blurred for a moment, but he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. Blood trickled down from a deep gash on his forehead where one of the robbers had hit him with a heavy, sharp-edged decorative piece.

The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, and he swiped it away with the back of his hand, his vision swimming from the pain. But there was no time to lose.

He regained his footing, deflecting another swing from the crowbar with a swift parry. He landed a punch to the attacker's jaw, but the blows kept coming. A fist crashed into his cheek, sending his head snapping to the side. His body staggered with the impact, but he refused to fall.

Minho was stronger, quicker, but they were too many. A sharp kick to his knee sent him crashing to the floor. His leg buckled under the force, and he felt something snap in his knee.

Gritting his teeth, Minho pushed himself back up, refusing to go down. His breath came in ragged gasps, blood dripping from the gash on his forehead and the cut on his cheek. He was fighting like a man on borrowed time, but the robbers' relentless attacks wore him down.

Just as the nearest man raised the crowbar for what would be the final blow, the sharp wail of sirens split the air, signaling the arrival of the police. The robbers hesitated for just a split second, but it was enough for the officers to storm in, weapons drawn.

Minho sagged against the counter, breathless and battered, his body pulsing with pain, but relief swept over him as the police quickly subdued the remaining robbers.

He leaned his head back, his vision fading as he tried to stay conscious, the blood from his forehead dripping down his face in thick rivulets. His body was bruised, but he was alive. The sirens, the flashing lights, the rush of officers—it felt like a dream.

The pain was almost numbing now, the world feeling distant as the police processed the scene. Minho was barely aware of them talking to him, their questions muffled, his mind consumed by the adrenaline and the pounding in his head.

I'm okay, he repeated in his mind, trying to steady his breath, his heart still racing with the aftermath of the attack.

But despite the chaos, despite the blood, there was only one thing Minho could think of.

Minho leaned against the counter, his body trembling from the adrenaline and the pain coursing through him. The blood from his forehead dripped down his face, but he hardly noticed it anymore. His head spun, the dull throb from the gash pulsing with every heartbeat. His knee burned from where he'd been kicked, and his cheek stung from the punch. But in the haze of pain, one thought dominated his mind—Hyejin.

She wasn't here with him. She wasn't the one in danger, but she was the one he wanted to see, to make sure she was safe. The image of her face, her eyes filled with warmth, her smile... it was like a lifeline pulling him back from the brink. If only she had been here, he thought. If only she hadn't been far away when this chaos had unfolded.

His hands shook, and despite the presence of the police and the robbers being hauled away, Minho felt the weight of his body pulling him down. He hadn't realized how deeply he'd come to depend on her, how much her presence had started to mean to him.

Why wasn't I more careful? The thought twisted in his mind, sharp and relentless. He should have made sure his house was secure, should have taken more precautions, done something to prevent this. But instead, he'd let his guard down, assuming everything would be fine. Now, here he was, bruised and bloodied, and all he could think about was how he hadn't been able to protect himself, let alone her.

A rush of guilt flooded him.

"Minho?" a voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned, realizing it was one of the officers checking on him.

"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Just... just need to take care of this."

His hands were still shaking as he wiped the blood from his forehead, his mind far from the scene around him. He knew the police would handle things here, but all he could think of was getting back to Hyejin, seeing her face, hearing her voice. Because, despite everything, she was the one who could ground him, make him feel like he wasn't falling apart.

When he finally allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment, he could almost hear her voice in his head, sweet and concerned. "What happened to you, Minho?"

In that brief moment of quiet, before the chaos fully subsided, Minho realized something. He wasn't afraid for himself—not really. But he was terrified of what would happen if he couldn't make it right, couldn't find a way to keep her safe... or worse, if something happened to her. The thought sent a chill through him, and he forced himself to shake it off, focusing on the present, the flashing police lights, the distant murmurs of the officers.

But more than anything, he wanted to get out of here. He wanted to get to her. He wanted to hear her voice, to have her tell him everything was going to be okay.

Everything will be okay, as long as she's by my side.

The Morning After

The next day, Hyejin hummed along with the song playing on the radio as she approached Minho's house. The sunlight filtered through the trees, and everything felt... perfect. But as she rounded the corner, her heart plummeted.

Yellow "DO NOT CROSS" tape surrounded the property, and a small crowd had gathered. Her breath quickened, and her mind spiraled into the worst possibilities. She quickly parked her car nearby and ran towards the scene.

She pushed through the onlookers, her voice trembling as she approached a nearby officer. "What happened here? Is Minho okay? No, I mean the owner—" Her words tumbled out in a panic. "Is he okay?"

The officer opened his mouth to reply, but a familiar voice called out behind her.

"Hyejin-ah."

She turned sharply, her heart leaping to her throat. There stood Minho, his head wrapped in a bandage, a Band-Aid on his cheek, and his knee braced. He looked tired but alive.

"Minho!" she cried, rushing to him. Her hands hovered over his injuries, unsure where to touch. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He gave her a reassuring smile, though it wavered under her intense gaze. "I'm fine. Just a bit roughed up."

"Roughed up?!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking. "You look like you barely survived a war!"

His expression softened as he placed a hand over hers. "Hey, I'm okay. The police came in time."

Hyejin's chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing. Her hands trembled, and tears threatened to spill. "I thought... I thought something terrible happened to you."

Minho's thumb brushed against the back of her hand, his voice low. "I'm sorry for scaring you. But I promise, I'm fine now."

Her lip quivered, but she nodded, her grip tightening on his hand as if letting go would make him disappear.

In that moment, with the world buzzing around them, Minho pulled her into a gentle embrace. For the first time since the ordeal, he felt at peace. And for Hyejin, the sound of his heartbeat was all the reassurance she needed.

The embrace was warm and reassuring, no doubt, but as the adrenaline began to wear off, Hyejin pulled back and smacked Minho lightly on his uninjured arm.

"Yah! Lee Minho, how could you not call me even once?!" she demanded, her eyes narrowing into a glare. "Do you know how worried I was? I thought the worst!"

Minho raised an eyebrow, wincing slightly as he adjusted his stance. "You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you up."

"Didn't want to wake me up?" she repeated incredulously, hands flying to her hips. "I'm your girlfriend, Minho! You don't get to decide when I should or shouldn't worry about you!"

"I had it under control," he said, smirking a little despite himself.

"Oh, really? Because 'under control' looks a lot like a bandaged head, a busted knee, and a cheek cut wide open!" She gestured wildly at his injuries. "You didn't think I deserved a heads-up?"

Minho chuckled softly, amused by her fiery outburst. "I called the police first. Priorities, Hyejin."

She threw her hands up to cover her mouth in exasperation. "Unbelievable! I should've been the second call, Minho. After the police. No, scratch that—I should've been the first!"

Without warning, she turned on her heel, muttering, "That's it. I'm going to the police station to find those robbers and teach them that no one messes with my Minho."

Minho's eyes widened, and despite the ache in his body, he reached out and caught her wrist before she could storm off.

"Hyejin," he said firmly, pulling her back toward him.

"What?" she snapped, though her voice was tinged with concern.

Minho tugged her closer, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Thank you for being so brave. But you don't have to fight my battles for me."

She blinked, momentarily thrown off by his sincerity. "I wasn't... I mean, I just..."

"You're cute when you're mad," he murmured against her hair, his tone warm and teasing. "But I'm fine now. Really. And knowing you're here for me means more than anything."

Hyejin's shoulders relaxed, her cheek pressing against his chest. "You're lucky I'm not actually marching down there Minho, because if I did, those robbers would be begging to get arrested just to escape me." she muttered.

Minho chuckled softly, his laughter rumbling against her. "I don't doubt it for a second. But I'd prefer you stay here—where I know you're safe."

Hyejin huffed, but the fight had drained from her. "Fine. But next time, if there is —which there better not be—you call me."

"I promise," Minho said, his voice soft but steady.

As they stood there in the morning light, Hyejin couldn't help but feel a mixture of exasperation and relief. And Minho, holding her close, realized just how much it meant to have someone who cared so fiercely for him. In their own chaotic, imperfect way, they were exactly what each other needed.

Hyejin pulled back slightly to look up at him, her eyes narrowing. "Don't think I'm letting you off the hook. You owe me an explanation. Every detail. And maybe some coffee. Lots of coffee."

"Coffee?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Yes, Minho. Coffee. Because I didn't sleep all night thinking about you, and I'm going to need caffeine if I'm going to lecture you properly."

Minho smiled, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "Fine. Coffee it is. But only if you promise to sit down and let me take care of you for once."

Hyejin raised an eyebrow. "I think you're in worse shape than me, Mr. Bandaged Hero."

"Touché." He winced slightly as he shifted his weight, his knee protesting the movement.

She frowned, slipping an arm around his waist to steady him. "Let's get you inside the car before you pass out trying to act tough."

"Deal," he said, leaning on her just a little, his heart swelling with gratitude.

Where the night had ended in chaos and blood, the morning began with her. And in her presence, he found a sense of peace that no amount of security could provide.

This wasn't just relief or gratitude—it was something deeper, something he hadn't quite put into words yet. But as he watched her fuss over him, pulling him to the passenger seat and threatening to call his doctor if he didn't sit still, he realized something simple yet profound.

She wasn't just his lifeline; she was home.

And in her eyes, he could see that she felt the same.

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I love burdening Minho and Hyejin with problems on problems hehe
ALSOOO
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