𝑴𝒊𝒏-𝒆 || Min Ho x Reader

✧˖° 2 | 15

Her jacket!

Of course! How could I have forgotten? I'd asked someone to take her coat when she arrived, and it was still sitting in the lobby.

I moved on instinct, turning and heading back through the crowd, slipping past people calling my name. I didn't stop to explain. 

It was easy enough to find, navy and creased from where it had slipped halfway off the hanger. It still smelled faintly familiar.

I grabbed it, ready to sprint after her, when something clattered in the pocket.

 Frowning, I paused. I reached inside.

My fingers closed around the edge of what felt like cardboard with rough edges. I pulled it out curiously.

A deck of cards, worn at the corners, held together by a rubber band. Nothing fancy. It looked like the kind of thing someone would shove into their bag and forget about.

Except on the bottom, scrawled in her unmistakable handwriting, it said:

For Min Ho.

My heart gave a sharp, unexpected jolt.

I glanced around, surveying my surroundings for prying eyes, but the hallway outside the gym was deserted. Pale yellow light pooled across the floor, washing the space dimly, making the party feel far away. I found a bench by the lockers and sat down, still holding the cards in both hands. They felt like a weight in my palm.

Slowly, I slid the rubber band off and flipped over the top one.

"52 reasons you make everything better and worse."

A soft exhale escaped my lips. The corner of my mouth twitched. No gift, huh? 

There was something different written on each card. "1. You have the most annoying laugh I've ever heard. But I suppose silence is worse."

"2. Even when we weren't speaking, I still watched the back of your head in class and hoped you would turn around."

My throat closed.

The hallway felt colder. Or maybe it was just the sudden stillness that settled in my chest. 

Card after card. Each reason was quiet. Each one personal. 

I stopped reading. My eyes blurred at the edges. It wasn't the words, exactly—it was the way they were written. Dramatic declarations of love weren't __'s thing, I knew that. But they were honest. They read like someone who had spent time thinking about me in ways I hadn't even noticed.

I had spent the entire day convincing myself that her silence didn't matter. That it was okay that she hadn't texted, or that she forgot. After all, we were in a rough patch.

But she's been thinking about me. She just didn't know how to say it.

And I'd been too wrapped up in my pride and confusion to see it.

Q was right. I can't let her slip away. I need to stop blaming her for whatever happens between us.

My eyes began to sting before I realized they were watering. I wiped it away quickly, glancing up the hallway like someone might have seen, even though I knew it was empty.

"DUDE!"

Right. Empty. Dae skidded into view, red in the face, breathless. "They're starting the mosh pit. They're literally chanting your name like you're some kind of cult leader and— what's that?"