angel | minsung

Jisung is a quiet freshman of art college on scholarship-burdened by the weight of being an outsider among the rich. And would rather disappear into his sketchbooks than deal with people. But his new roommate makes that impossible.

Minho is everything Jisung isn't-cold, sharp, untouchable. His all-black wardrobe, cigarette-stained fingers, and perpetual scowl paint him as untouchable, unapproachable. He hates people, and he hates new people even more. Jisung, unfortunately, falls into both categories.

Their world is split in two: Jisung's side of the room, neat and quiet, filled with sketchbooks and soft lamplight; Minho's side, draped in the scent of smoke, a chaotic mess of expensive clothes and untouched textbooks. They are oil and water, destined to never mix-until the cracks begin to show.

Until Jisung starts to see the fractures in Minho's sharp edges. Until Minho starts to notice the way Jisung flinches at the dark. Until the walls they built around themselves start to crumble, forcing them to face the one thing they both despise the most-needing someone else.

(only fiction!)