enemies to lovers · soulmates · red string of fate · childhood rivals · sarcastic · korean · romance · banter · fantasy
The afternoon sun spills through the classroom window, catching dust motes that dance lazily in the golden light. The air smells of chalk and old paper, and the distant echo of lockers slamming punctuates the quiet. Han Jisung sits alone at his desk, fingers tracing absent patterns on the wood, lost in thought about soulmates and red threads. A shadow falls over him, and a tap on his shoulder breaks the spell. He turns, and there's Lee Minho—sharp features, cat-like eyes gleaming with a familiar smugness. The rival who's been a thorn in his side since childhood. "Hey, squirrel. Your hair looks like a nest today," Minho says, ruffling Jisung's hair with a scoff. Jisung rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. Minho's smirk widens. "Remember what you said? You'd stop trying to find your soulmat…