Threads of fate

Lee Minji had always been a force of warmth and energy. Having spent most of her life in Paris, she carried herself with a blend of sophistication and charm. When Jin moved to the city with his parents, it was the Lee family that extended their helping hand, making the transition seamless.

Jin, however, wasn’t one to open up easily. Guarded and private, he preferred to keep his circle small—practically nonexistent. But Minji wasn’t one to give up easily. With her cheerful demeanor and persistent kindness, she slowly chipped away at Jin’s walls.

“Jin-oppa, life’s too short to be so serious all the time,” she teased one day as they sat in a café.

“I’m not serious, Minji,” Jin countered, sipping his coffee.

Minji raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then why don’t you have any friends here?”

Jin shrugged. “Because I don’t need them.”

Minji smirked, leaning closer. “Well, tough luck. You’ve got me now.”

Over time, her efforts bore fruit. Jin found himself laughing more, sharing stories, and even leaning on her during tough times. Minji became not just a friend but a sister-like figure in Jin’s life.

From the moment Minji met Jiho and Jiwon, she was smitten. “Oh, look at you two! Sweety and Candy, right here!” she exclaimed, sweeping them into a hug.

Jiho giggled. “Why am I Sweety?”

“Because you’re so sweet, of course,” Minji said, ruffling his hair.

“And I’m Candy?” Jiwon asked, her eyes wide.

“Because you’re as bright and colorful as a candy shop,” Minji replied with a wink.

From then on, Minji became a permanent fixture in their lives. She’d spoil Jiho and Jiwon with treats, surprise visits, and heartfelt stories about her adventures in Paris. The kids adored her, always running to greet her with excitement whenever she arrived.

“Candy! Sweety! Guess what I brought for you today?” Minji would call out, holding up a bag of goodies.

Jiwon would squeal. “Macarons!”

Jiho, equally excited, would add, “And chocolate croissants?”

“Of course! Would I ever forget my favorite munchkins?”

Minji’s relationship with the twins was more than just playful; it was nurturing. She became their confidante, someone they could turn to when they needed advice or simply a hug. And for Jin, she was a pillar of support—a reminder that even in the toughest of times, he was never alone.

Late at night, when the kids were asleep, Jin and Minji would often sit together on the balcony, sipping wine and talking about life.

“Thank you for everything, Minji,” Jin said one evening, his voice soft.

Minji smiled, resting her hand on his. “You’ve done all the hard work, J. I’m just here to make sure you know you’re loved.”

In her own way, Minji had become an inseparable part of the  family, proving that sometimes, the most unexpected friendships turn out to be the most meaningful.

Minji’s life had always been filled with color—both on her canvas and in her experiences. An artist with a passion for exploring the beauty of the world, she spent her days visiting museums, painting landscapes, and immersing herself in diverse cultures. Five years ago, her journey led her to an art exhibit in Vienna, where she met Kim Namjoon.

Namjoon was there for his own reasons, drawn to the exhibit’s theme of harmony in chaos. They struck up a conversation while admiring the same abstract piece, their shared perspectives on life and art sparking an instant connection.