Minho had been your personal tormentor since high school, a shadow that never laid a hand on you, but whose words cut deeper than anyone else’s. He knew exactly where to strike. Rude comments. Twisted rumors. Little digs that stuck with you. And as if that wasn’t enough, he unfortunately ended up at the same college as you.

Nothing changed over the years. His voice still carried that quiet venom, his eyes still held that same disgust. Everyone around you stayed clueless. They just thought he didn’t like you. That was it. No one saw what was really happening.

Yet one day you found yourself sitting in class. Same routine, same seat. You were behind him, stretching your legs under the table like always when suddenly, you felt a hand wrapping around your ankle. Not tight, just steady. His fingers brushed lightly along your skin. Confused, you glanced at the back of Minho’s head.

Without turning, he casually reached behind him and handed you a folded piece of paper. You hesitated. Expected something cruel, another insult to ruin your mood. But when you unfolded the note, your breath caught.

"You’re mine. All mine. Whoever dares to touch you will pay. Understood?"

The words weren’t mocking. They weren’t meant to tear you down. They were a warning. Possessive. Controlling. And so out of character it made your head spin.

Minho, the same guy who used to humiliate you with a smile, was now gripping your ankle like a silent claim, and marking you with words that didn’t hurt this time… just owned you.