Mixtape of Memories | Stray Kids One Shots

The rain started slowly, drizzling like the tears that had been brimming in your eyes all evening. You sat uncomfortably on the edge of the kitchen chair, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you stared out of the window into the dark night. The tension in the room was suffocating, so thick you felt like you could choke on it. Minho stood by the kitchen counter, his knuckles white as he gripped its edge.

"I don't understand, Y/N," he finally said, his voice quiet but heavy with frustration. "Why are you pulling away from me? Did I do something wrong?"

You didn't answer immediately. How could you explain what had been eating away at you for weeks? Every time you scrolled through social media or went to one of his events, the sight of his fans—beautiful, confident, and utterly captivated by him—pierced you like a dagger. Their words echoed in your mind: He's too good for anyone. He deserves someone perfect.

It felt impossible to believe he had chosen you.

"It's not you," you whispered eventually, your voice barely audible over the rain now steadily tapping against the window. "It's me."

Minho scoffed, his jaw tightening. "That's such a cliché. Don't do this, Y/N. Just tell me what's going on."

You hesitated, biting your lip to keep the tears from spilling. "Every day, I see the girls who adore you—girls who are so much prettier, so much better than me. And I just—" Your voice cracked. "I can't figure out why you picked me. Maybe you shouldn't have."

The words hit Minho like a punch to the gut. His face twisted, the usually composed and confident Minho unraveling before your eyes. "Is that what you think? That you're not good enough for me?" His voice broke, something you'd never heard before. "Do you really think I'd be here, begging you to tell me what's wrong, if I didn't love you?"

You looked down at your lap, unable to meet his intense gaze. "I just... I don't want to hold you back."

Minho let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "You think you're holding me back? Y/N, you're the reason I feel like I can breathe when the rest of the world suffocates me." His voice softened, but his desperation was palpable. "Don't you see that?"

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I don't know if I can do this, Minho. I think... I think I need to go."

He froze, his chest rising and falling unevenly. "What are you saying?" His voice was barely a whisper now, like he was terrified of your answer.

"I'm saying... maybe this was a mistake."

His face crumpled, and for the first time, you saw tears well up in his eyes. "You don't mean that."

"I don't know," you whispered, your heart breaking as you watched the person you loved more than anything crumble before you. "I don't know anything anymore."

Before he could say another word, you stood and grabbed your coat, ignoring his protests as you walked out the door.

The rain poured heavier as you walked down the empty street, your heart aching with every step. You didn't know where you were going; you just needed to get away.

But then, you heard him.

"Y/N!"

You stopped in your tracks, turning to see Minho running after you, soaked to the bone. His hair clung to his forehead, and tears mixed with the rain on his cheeks. He looked utterly broken, and the sight made your chest tighten painfully.

"Please," he said, his voice shaking. "Don't do this. Don't leave me."

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling. "Minho, I—"

"I can't lose you," he interrupted, stepping closer until he was right in front of you. "I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it scares me. And if you can't see that, then I've failed you."

The rain poured down on both of you, soaking your clothes and chilling you to the bone, but you couldn't focus on anything but the look in his eyes—so raw, so vulnerable.

"I'm scared," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I'm scared that I'm not enough."

He reached out, cupping your face with his trembling hands. "You're more than enough. You're everything. And I don't care what anyone else thinks because I chose you. I'll always choose you."

Something inside you cracked, and before you knew it, you were pulling him into a desperate kiss. His lips were warm despite the rain, and he kissed you back with an urgency that made your knees weak. His hands slid to your waist, holding you as if letting go would be the end of him.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, tears and rainwater mingling on your faces. "Come back with me," he pleaded, his voice barely audible. "Let's talk this through. Please."

You nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak. He took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring, and led you back to his apartment.

That night, wrapped in his arms as he whispered words of love and reassurance, you promised yourself you'd try harder to believe in him—and in yourself. Because if Minho could see something worth loving in you, maybe it was time you started seeing it too.