obsessed-rival
Content Type:
1000 books with obsessed-rival
Four
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1117
Four

Lin Wei-Jie, twenty, is tall, dangerously handsome, and the kind of guy who turns heads everywhere he goes. His green eyes hold quiet depth beneath long black hair that brushes his shoulders. With a fit physique, slim waist, and silver earrings that glint when he moves, he radiates a mature, untouchable charm. Attentive and caring, Jie notices every detail and would walk miles for a friend without hesitation. Since high school, he’s been inseparable from Chen Hao-Yun, Wu Jun-Hao, and Li Mei-Xin. Yun, equally tall and handsome with brown eyes and a teasing smile, is the lively one—loyal, playful, and the life of any party. Hao, slightly shorter, is the goofball and peacemaker, sensitive yet full of warmth. Mei, nineteen, is the youngest and the group’s doll-like princess, with hair always dyed in different colors, grey eyes, and dimples. Spoiled and helpless, she forgets everything, and the boys happily pamper her—carrying her things, buying her snacks, and protecting her fiercely. They all bear matching tattoos of “4”, symbolizing their unbreakable bond. Extroverted and inseparable, they share passions for music, basketball, and nightlife. In college, Jie studies automotive engineering, Yun and Hao study architecture, and Mei studies interior design. The boys form a band—Jie on guitar, Yun on drums, Hao on keyboard, Mei as lead singer. Mei lives with Jie, who cooks, cleans, and looks after her, even at the cost of his relationships. Together, the four are chaos and comfort.

Roots of Betrayal
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144
Roots of Betrayal

The silence has been a physical weight for three days, pressing down on my chest until I can barely breathe. Hyun-woo has become a ghost in our apartment—cold, distant, his eyes avoiding mine like I’m someone he no longer knows. I don’t know what I did, and the not knowing is tearing me apart. Then I see him—standing across the street, drenched in the pouring Seoul rain, staring up at our building like he’s waiting for me to break first. His black hair clings to his forehead, his jacket soaked through, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t seek shelter. Just watches. I fling the door open and run out into the storm. He’s trembling—not from cold, but from something deeper. Pain flashes in his dark eyes, the same eyes that once softened every time they landed on me. “Are you going to tell me what’s happening, Ha-eun… or are we going to keep pretending I don’t exist?” I freeze. He saw the note. He saw Min-ho. But he doesn’t know the truth—that it wasn’t a secret rendezvous, that I was meeting Min-ho to get answers about *him*, about the sudden distance, about the late-night calls I wasn’t supposed to hear. Now I have to choose: step forward and risk everything with the truth, stand my ground and fight back, or pull him close and remind him—through touch, through breath—that we’re not over. One choice could save us. Another could end us for good.