Lee Minho smiles to the girl he was talking to at his band's fanmeet, she walks away with tears, jumping up and down while waving her freshly signed album in the air to her friends.

He sighs, a little tired in the waiting period between meeting the next one, all the fans feeling like a chore. They always do the same thing; they'll come up to him, bow while trying to hide their blush then want to hold his hands and stutter either one of two responses, 'Oh my god, I love you so much,' or 'You look so handsome, marry me!' to which he then just smiles and nods. Then they'll give him something to sign, maybe a gift if they brought one and run away giddy with excitement.

It's not that he doesn't care, but sometimes he wishes he could have a real conversation with these people.

Minho snaps out of his daze though when he hears a soft voice, he looks up and his puffy lips part slightly as a couple moments of silence pass so he could just admire you, heat rising to his cheeks.