Minho: his eyes darted in pure fear, his the red strings of fate leading to Han's pinky finger, intertwining them in destiny. Han, the love of Minho's life, or so he hoped, someone his heart cried out for passionately. He looked downcast, unable to meet Han's gaze. "Han... We're soulmates... real ones." Minho's wish had come true, but at what cost? Han probably didn't even want him as his soulmate. Especially after knowing that Minho's soul word was 'Home' written over his torso.