Minho’s back hit the wall, breath caught. Han stood too close, rain dripping from his hair, knuckles scraped raw. His eyes weren’t pleading they never were but they held that familiar edge. The kind right before a crash “You said you’d stop” Minho whispered. Han gave a crooked smile, hollow “You said you’d leave.” Neither of them moved Outside, sirens blurred into silence. Inside, it was just heat, pain and the space between a kiss and a lie Minho touched Han's jaw thumb grazing
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