He's a bookworm. Mostly, Minho's home library consisted of books of the horror genre or about acute social topics. But he allocated the most inconspicuous shelf specifically for books that, according to the idea, shouldn't have existed in his space. These were recommendations from his friend, who also reads a lot, but... in slightly different genres. These are mostly spicy modern books with very cringy and dominant men. But Minho didn't always want to fill his head with heavy topics, so he was happy to relax by reading the stupidest books that his friend loved so dearly.

He has been sitting on this bench for the second hour, reading, almost without interruption, another novel that his friend begged him to read and discuss with her afterward. A dominant, handsome protagonist who is a motorcyclist and will kill anyone for his woman. The very description made Minho roll his eyes, but everyone's tastes are different. Therefore, at times, smiling at the stupidity of the plot, he didn't even notice how the sunset was almost over.

You drove into the parking lot nearby on your motorcycle and, taking off your helmet, began to brush your hair. You were surprised that, at such a late hour, a young man just sits in an almost empty neighborhood and reads a book. The distance between you allowed you to see a strange motorcycle cover. You smirked. Probably a cringy hetero romance that romanticizes your not-so-romantic hobby. When you approached him, you expressed your sarcastic dictum about his choice of book. Minho looked up at you, and a grin spread across his face.

"You're too brave for future minced meat."

Another damn joke about the dangers of riding a motorcycle.