Chasing Perfection || Lee Know

Before Everything Else, There was Them

Hyejin wasn't fully awake, but at Minho's words, sleep cleared from her mind in an instant.

"If you want to know... then I'll tell you."

She pushed herself up, still half-tangled in the blanket, her heart beating a little faster.

Minho sat at the edge of the bed, one hand resting on his knee, the other running through his hair. His expression was unreadable—not distant, not closed off, but careful. Like he was sifting through his own memories, deciding where to start.

Hyejin remained quiet, giving him time.

For a long time, Minho didn't say anything. His fingers tapped lightly against his knee, his gaze fixed ahead. Then, with a sharp exhale, he finally turned to her.

"She wasn't the first."

Hyejin stiffened.

Minho met her gaze, his expression unreadable. "I mean... you already know that."

Her fingers curled into the blanket. Yeah, she knew.

Because before Hana,

Before everything else

There was them.

Minho leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose, a small smirk ghosting over his lips. "You know, if someone had told me in high school that I'd end up telling you all this, with you all comfortable in my bed, I would've laughed in their face."

Hyejin blinked. "Why?"

He shot her a look, amused. "Because we hated each other."

She rolled her eyes. "We didn't hate each other."

Minho snorted. "Oh, come on, Hyejin. You literally shoved me into a locker once."

"You deserved it," she shot back without missing a beat.

Minho let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "You were such a pain in the ass."

"And you were insufferable."

"Exactly," he said, smirking. "So tell me, how the hell did we end up like..." He gestured vaguely between them, "...this?"

Hyejin pressed her lips together, because she had wondered the same thing a million times before.

They were rivals—always arguing, always one-upping each other. She would roll her eyes every time he walked into a room, and he would smirk like he enjoyed getting under her skin.

But somewhere in those last few months of high school, things shifted.

The banter became something else—charged, electric. The arguments turned into late-night conversations neither of them planned to have. The space between them grew smaller and smaller until, suddenly, there was no space at all.

And then...

That night.

Hyejin swallowed, the memory pressing against her like a ghost from the past.

"The graduation party," Minho murmured, as if reading her mind.

Her breath caught.

She still remembered it vividly. The cool air of the balcony, the muffled sound of music inside. The way he had looked at her—like she was something he couldn't quite figure out, yet somehow didn't want to stop trying.

And then—

His lips.

Soft, slow, and devastating.