GOAL! Love or hate on the field?
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YetişkinDevam ediyor6m
Son yayınlanan Çar, Ağu 6, 2025
Minho had always been the kind of person who chased his goals with everything he had. Getting into one of the country's top five universities wasn't just a dream-it was a mission. Years of late-night practices, relentless studying, and playing through injuries had all led to that one moment: the letter bearing his dream school's crest, offering him a full-ride athletic scholarship. It should've been the happiest day of his life. And it was-until preseason started.
That was when he met Christopher, the team captain.
Christopher was everything Minho hated: uptight, unshakably confident, annoyingly perfect, and constantly watching him like he was one screw-up away from being benched. On the surface, Chris was a model leader-respected, disciplined, the kind of guy who spoke and the team listened. But with Minho? There was no patience. No warmth. Just criticism and that unreadable, borderline smug expression like he already had Minho figured out.
The tension between them escalated quickly. Minho wasn't known for his level-headed personality-he was much more associated with anger or stubbornness. And Chris? He had a way of pushing that felt deliberate. A cutting remark during passing drills. A pointed look after a missed shot. Whatever effort Minho put in-early mornings, extra laps, staying late after practice-it never seemed to be enough. Chris never acknowledged the work. Never gave praise. Just silence.
And the more Chris dismissed of minhos efforts the more Minho stopped trying, eventually the missed practices started. The late arrivals. Minho would show up with his jersey half on, earbuds in, no urgency in his step. It was performative, like he wanted Chris to say something-wanted a reaction, even if it was a fight. And Chris would watch him from across the field, jaw tight, fists clenched, biting back whatever he wanted to say.
Each of them waiting for the other to break.
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They told Jisung to be careful with this one. They used words like "calculated", "emotionally disconnected", and "selectively mute." They said he doesn't bite - unless he wants to. They warned Jisung not to get attached, not to get comfortable. They never said he'd be beautiful. Jisung watches from behind the glass. The hybrid stands barefoot on the cold concrete floor, black tail flicking absently behind him like the second hand of a quiet clock. Minho. Cat-type. Government-labeled "unfit for civilian adoption" - until now. His ears twitch once. He's heard Jisung arrive. Minho doesn't look at him. He never does. That's the first thing Jisung notices about him - the deliberate ignorance. Most hybrids observe. Most hybrids flinch. Minho doesn't. Minho waits. Like a storm. Like a trap. The case file says he hasn't spoken in months. Not since the last handler, whose name is redacted. Jisung shouldn't be curious about that. But he is. He also shouldn't feel anything when the hybrid finally glances over his shoulder - just once - eyes flickering gold in the fluorescent light. He's not supposed to feel... watched. "You can open the door," a voice says behind him. Jisung hesitates. "I thought he was considered-" he starts, but the officer shrugs. "Dangerous? Yeah. But he likes the quiet ones." The door hisses open, and Jisung steps into the room. The air shifts immediately - cold, clinical, but the tension in his spine isn't from the chill. It's the way Minho tilts his head. The way he breathes. The way his eyes trail him like Jisung is the one being evaluated. "You're not scared," Minho says. Not a question. The first words he's spoken in half a year. And it's not Minho's voice that startles Jisung. It's the way it makes his chest tighten. Like he's just stepped into a room that locks from the inside.
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