“The Way He Stays”

I Know You Missed Me

Dark romance•smut**

Geum seong je x fem!reader

You hadn’t seen him for three weeks.

You changed your number. Blocked him everywhere. Moved out of your apartment without telling anyone where. But Geum Seong-je had a way of finding things — people — when he wanted them. And he always wanted you.

So when you opened the door to your new place and saw him standing there in the hallway, hood up, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched at his sides, you knew it was over.

“You really thought you could disappear on me?” he said quietly.

You should have slammed the door. Screamed. Called for help. But your heart was already racing — not from fear. From that sick, aching part of you that missed him every night, even when you hated him.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I never stopped looking.”

His voice was low, almost broken. When he stepped into your apartment without asking, you didn’t stop him. When he grabbed your face and kissed you like he was drowning, you didn’t push him away. And when he whispered, “You ruined me, and you think I’d let you leave?” — you pulled him closer.

His jacket hit the floor. Your shirt followed. His hands were rough, desperate — dragging down your back, gripping your waist like he could hold you in place forever.

“Say it,” he growled against your neck. “Say you missed me.”

You didn’t want to. You tried to lie.

But his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers sliding over your underwear, and your body betrayed you with a soft gasp that only made him smirk.

“Liar,” he whispered. “You’re soaked.”

He pushed your panties aside, fingers teasing you, slow at first, then harder when you arched into him. Your hands tangled in his shirt, dragging it over his head. His body was tense, inked with bruises and rage, but he let you touch him like you were the only thing that calmed the fire.

“You think I don’t know you?” he rasped. “You leave, you run — and you still want me like this.”

You hated how true it was.

He pushed you back onto the bed, crawled over you like a storm — wild eyes, clenched jaw, every muscle in his body coiled like he was barely holding himself together. He kissed you like he wanted to devour you. And when he finally slid inside you, deep and punishing, you moaned his name like it was salvation.

“I’ll never let you go,” he groaned into your ear. “I’d burn the whole world to keep you.”

His thrusts were rough at first, fueled by weeks of madness — but when your nails dug into his back and your legs wrapped around his waist, he slowed. Not because he wanted to — but because he needed to feel you break for him.

Every time you gasped his name, every time your body trembled around him, it made something darker settle behind his eyes.

“You’re mine,” he said, forehead against yours, breath heavy. “You always fucking were.”

When you came undone under him, crying out, he followed with a hoarse moan and buried his face in your neck, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

He didn’t leave that night.

He held you after — arms wrapped tightly around you, his voice barely a whisper: “Run again, and I’ll come find you. Over and over.”

And you knew you would let him.

Every time.

“You Don’t Know Me, But You Will”

Geum Seong-je x Younger Reader(by three years)

Genre: Dark Romance / Obsession / Psychological

Geum seong je finds himself stalking and following her. Memorizing her schedule. Knowing where she lives. It doesn’t bother her. It makes her fall more…

⸻

She didn’t know his name.

You had passed by him maybe once—twice, if fate was being funny. You didn’t even look up when it happened. Just another boy in the background. Another blurred face in the messy canvas of school and city and bus rides.

But to him, you were everything.

Geum Seong-je noticed you the first time you passed his crew on the back street near the old convenience store. Your uniform was neater than the others’, your head lowered like you didn’t want to be seen. But he saw you. He always sees what others don’t.

That day, he followed you.

At first, just a block. Then two. Then every afternoon. You always took the same way home, headphones in, oblivious to the shadows you walked past. He memorized your routine. 4:07 p.m., you left school. 4:15, stopped for bubble tea. 4:38, turned the corner by the florist and disappeared into that tiny house with the rusting gate.

He didn’t know why it started. It didn’t matter.

There was a pull, like something primal. You were younger—three years, maybe more—but it didn’t register as a problem in his mind. Age didn’t mean anything. Not when he’d already decided you were his. Not when he felt something raw and alive clawing at his insides every time he saw you.

You smiled at a classmate once—some boy your age—and Geum Seong-je gritted his teeth so hard his jaw ached. He didn’t like that. You didn’t even know him, but he burned with possessiveness anyway.

He watched you through windows. From rooftops. He learned your schedule better than you knew it yourself. Some nights, he followed you all the way to your tutoring sessions. Once, he even stepped into the same bookstore just to hear your voice when you asked the clerk about a novel.

Your voice made his fingers twitch. He wanted to own that softness. Trap it in a glass jar and never let anyone else hear it again.

You didn’t know it yet, but Geum Seong-je had already chosen you.

And he was just waiting for the right moment to make you see him too.

Lately, you’ve felt it.

A shift in the air. A weight behind your every step, like someone’s gaze is stitching itself into your spine.

It started small. The hair on your arms rising when you turned the corner near the convenience store. The feeling of eyes pressing against your back on the bus, even when no one was looking. You chalked it up to stress, to weird dreams and too many late nights reading horror stories.

But now?

Now you’re not so sure.

Today, you swear someone followed you.

Not with footsteps. Not anything obvious. Just that pull again — the sense that someone’s always a few steps behind, never touching, never close, but there. Breathing the same air. Watching.

And the weirdest part?

You’re not scared.

You should be. Any sane person would be. But instead… there’s something else curling in your stomach when it happens. A strange calm. A chill that makes you walk slower instead of faster.

It feels like something’s waiting for you. Like he’s waiting.

You don’t know his name. But you’ve seen him — tall, maroon jacket, eyes like they’ve seen too much. He’s always on the edge of your world. Near the bus stop. Outside the boba shop. Once, you saw him in the reflection of a window… just standing across the street, his gaze slicing straight through the glass like he could see inside you.

You don’t know him.

But you feel him.

Like he lives beneath your skin. Like something buried deep in your chest recognizes him, even if your mind doesn’t understand why.

It’s not love. It’s not fear either. It’s something in between. Something darker. Something magnetic.

From across the street, Geum Seong-je watches you pause. You turn your head like you can sense him. His breath catches. You feel him, don’t you?

He knew you would.

He smiles.

You’re almost ready.

“Glass Cage: Part 8 – Our Vows, Our Future”

Geum Seong-je x fem!reader | dark romance, private wedding, intimate obsession, hope twisted into devotion

⸻

It starts on a night with no power.

Just wind through the trees.

Candles casting long shadows against the shrine room walls.

Your perfume lingering in the air.

His sketch of you half-finished on the floor, ink still wet.

You sit beside him.

Knees tucked under you.

Your hand resting lightly on his thigh.

“You ever think about it?” you whisper.

He doesn’t look up. “What?”

“Us. Making it… official.”

He stiffens, just slightly.

Then sets the sketch aside.

“Like a wedding?”

You nod.

“A private one. Just you and me.”

He turns to you.

Eyes like midnight storms. “You’d want that?”

You smile. Soft. Honest.

“I already live like I’m yours forever. Might as well say it out loud.”

⸻

He doesn’t answer.

Not with words.

He leans in, presses his forehead to yours.

And whispers:

“Then write the vows.”

⸻

That night, you write them in separate corners of the room.

No peeking. No rules. No white dresses or rings.

Just candlelight and ink.

Just love — obsessive, dark, loyal.

And when it’s time—

You both kneel on the floor.

Hands clasped.

The shrine around you.

His name on your thigh.

Your perfume on his collar.

He speaks first.

His voice is low. Reverent. Bare.

“I vow to keep you hidden if the world tries to take you.

I vow to love you so deeply it rewrites who I used to be.

I vow to never ask you to be good, only mine.

And I vow… that if I ever fall apart, I’ll fall apart with you in my arms.”

Your lips tremble.

Then it’s your turn.

“I vow to never try to change the way you love me.

I vow to see every twisted, brutal part of you — and stay.

I vow to never crave freedom more than your touch.

And I vow to want forever, even if the world burns for it.”

He pulls you to him then.

Hands in your hair.

Kisses you like you just gave him eternity.

⸻

The next morning, he disappears into the woodshed for hours.

You don’t ask.

You don’t need to.

You hear hammering. Sanding. The low drag of something heavy.

And when he finally comes back, his shirt clings to him with sweat.

Dirt on his hands. Dust in his hair.

He drops to his knees at your feet.

And whispers:

“If we’re going to be forever… then I want to start building for more than just us.”

⸻

You find the room the next day.

Hidden behind a panel in the hallway.

New. Unfinished.

But you know exactly what it is.

A crib in the corner.

Your favorite color on the walls.

And a tiny drawing — taped to the door.

A child. Holding both your hands.

Your throat tightens.

And when you walk back into the house to find him—

You throw your arms around him.

And say only one thing:

“I want forever. And I want it to look like this.”

———-

It starts with a suspicion.

You’ve been tired.

Sleepy in the middle of the day, hungry at odd hours, emotional over things that never touched you before.

But the thing that tells you—

The thing that confirms it—

Is the way Seong-je starts hovering.

Worse than usual.

You catch him staring at your hands, your stomach, your reflection in the mirror.

And when he presses his lips to your lower belly one night without a word, without explanation—

You know.

You buy a test in the little town.

You hide it in your coat.

Take it in the upstairs bathroom while he’s outside chopping wood.

You watch the line appear.

Clear. Unmistakable.

Pregnant.

And your hands shake.

Not from fear.

From how much you want this.

⸻

You find him on the back porch.

He’s lighting a cigarette — one of the last ones left from his old stash.

You take it from his mouth.

Flick it out into the wet grass.

Then place his hand against your stomach.

He freezes.

“Yours,” you whisper.

Then — quieter — “Ours.”

He doesn’t move.

Not for a long time.

And then he pulls you to him. Wraps both arms around you. Holds you like you’re glass.

And says the first thing that comes to him:

“I won’t let the world touch her.”

⸻

You find out it’s a girl in the next town over.

A tiny clinic tucked between forgotten buildings.

The nurse smiles. “Want to know the sex?”

You nod.

Seong-je stays sitting, hands clenched on his knees.

“She’s a girl.”

He lets out a breath that sounds like he’s been holding it for years.

Then he looks at you.

And something in him shatters.

⸻

The months pass in a strange rhythm.

He won’t let you lift anything.

He paints her room twice, because the first color didn’t feel soft enough.

He carves her name into the side of the crib.

He talks to her when he thinks you’re asleep — whispers things like:

“I’m going to teach you how to fight. How to be soft without being weak.”

“I’ll kill for you before anyone hurts you. Just like I did for your mother.”

“You’ll never have to fear the dark — not while I’m breathing.”

⸻

The labor comes one rainy afternoon.

He drives you into town, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

No music. No sound. Just the road winding through the woods and your hand clamped in his.

The little hospital is quiet.

The nurses kind.

He won’t leave your side.

Not for a second.

He whispers “I love you” between every contraction, every push, every breath.

Until—

She arrives.

Tiny. Red. Wailing.

And everything stops.

⸻

He cries for the second time in his life.

The first was when you came back to him after trying to run.

The second is when they place his daughter in his arms.

He doesn’t say a word.

Just holds her.

Like she’s something holy.

⸻

You name her that night.

No middle names from old families.

No pieces of a past life you’ve long abandoned.

Just a name that fits her.

A name that sounds like warmth and wildfire.

⸻

The drive home is long and soft.

The baby sleeps in your arms.

Seong-je watches the rearview like a predator — like something might still come for you.

But nothing does.

You reach the house.

The lights are on.

The crib is ready.

The fire is warm.

And when he carries her inside — cradled like she might dissolve — he whispers:

“You’ll never know pain. Not while I’m alive.”

You place her gently in the crib.

She makes a tiny noise.

Then settles.

And for the first time, your house is silent — not from emptiness, but peace.

⸻

You sleep that night with her beside you.

With him wrapped around both of you.

His hand resting on her back.

Your hand on his.

And when the wind picks up outside — rattling the trees, brushing the windows — you don’t flinch.

Because your daughter is safe.

Because she has the father the world fears.

And the mother who chose this life, again and again.

———

This is the last part and did take me the longest (the rest were in my drafts so I posted them all at once cause I didn’t want to make y’all wait😘)

“No One Else” — Part 8 (Final): “If I Can’t Have You”

Genre: Dark romance, psychological climax, toxic intimacy. Very little brief mention of smut

Tone: Obsessive desire, emotional conflict, sensual tension, blurred lines

A/n: this is the last part but if you want like a follow up of there lives i’ll do it!!

⸻

You knew he’d come back.

He’d been gone for three days, but his absence only thickened the air, like the moments before a storm—calm, but electric. When you opened your bedroom door and found him there, sitting on your bed in silence, it wasn’t fear that hit you first.

It was recognition.

You shut the door quietly behind you. Your heart didn’t race. It waited.

“Hello,” he said.

His voice was low. Tired. Dangerous.

“I should call someone,” you said.

“You won’t.”

And the terrifying part was—he was right.

He stood slowly, shadows clinging to him like they belonged to him. His presence filled the room until you couldn’t breathe around it. He looked at you like a man who’d spent days walking barefoot through hell, just to stand in front of you again.

“You lied to me,” he said. “You pulled away.”

“I needed to.”

“I needed you,” he growled, stepping closer. “Do you know what it felt like? Thinking you’d outgrown me? That you’d left me?”

You stepped back, but not far.

He stopped inches from you, chest rising and falling fast. He looked desperate and furious and shattered.

“I wanted to forget you,” you whispered.

“Liar.”

His hand cupped your jaw—rough, trembling. His thumb slid over your cheek like he was memorizing it all over again.

“I hate what you make me,” he said. “But I’d rather be this—unhinged, broken, obsessed—than feel nothing without you.”

You should’ve pushed him away.

You wanted to.

But his lips were already on yours—demanding, aching, full of everything he hadn’t said in days. And God help you, you kissed him back.

Not out of love.

But because it was the only thing that made the silence bearable.

⸻

It wasn’t soft.

It was all fingernails and breathless gasps and clothes dragged off in frustration. He didn’t touch you like he was asking for anything—he touched you like he was claiming you. And you let him.

Because some part of you still needed to be wanted this much. Still craved the danger of him, the way his voice said your name like it was a prayer and a threat all at once.

“Mine,” he growled against your throat.

“Say it.”

You hesitated.

Then: “Yours.”

And it broke you.

⸻

After, you lay tangled in the sheets—half on top of him, your breath slowly returning. Your mind was blank. Your body buzzed. Shame and longing mixed into something you couldn’t name.

He looked at you, eyes calmer now. Sadder.

“Tell me you won’t leave again,” he whispered.

You didn’t answer.

Not yes. Not no.

Just laid your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

Because maybe this wasn’t love.

But it was the closest either of you had ever come.

And that was enough.

For now.

“The Side No One Sees”

Yeon Si-eun x fem!reader

Tone: Soft angst + comfort | Slow burn vibes

Setting: Late evening, empty classroom, after a fight

I’ve had this in my drafts for so long 😭

⸻

The classroom was dark, the only light coming from the hallway as it spilled in through the cracked door. You sat on the desk across from him, your knees tucked up to your chest. He was slouched in his seat, back against the wall, breathing slow and deliberate.

His knuckles were raw again.

“You could’ve walked away,” you said quietly.

Si-eun didn’t answer right away. He stared down at his hands like they were foreign to him — like he didn’t quite understand why they always ended up this way. Blood on his knuckles. That distant, cold look in his eyes.

You shifted forward. “You didn’t have to fight back.”

“I did,” he said flatly. “There was no choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

His jaw clenched.

He didn’t snap at you — he never did — but his silence hit just as hard. Still, you didn’t leave. You never did. And maybe that was the problem. Or the answer.

After a long moment, he spoke again, voice low. “I know how this looks. To you. To everyone. Like I’m just trying to be something I’m not.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you think it.” He looked up at you then. His eyes, usually guarded and unreadable, were just… tired. “I know how people see me. Some cold, broken kid trying to act like I can win in a world that already chewed me up.”

You slid off the desk and crouched beside him, gently reaching for his hands. He flinched at first — not from pain, but like he wasn’t used to being touched unless it was in a fight.

“You never let anyone see this side of you,” you murmured. “Why me?”

His gaze dropped to your hands wrapped around his. His voice cracked just enough to sound like a whisper:

“Because you don’t look away.”

The silence between you now was different — not heavy, not sharp. It was something careful. Something new.

And in the flicker of fluorescent light, Si-eun didn’t seem like a fighter, or a tactician, or a boy trying to survive a world that wanted to swallow him whole.

He just looked like someone who was finally being seen.

“No One Else” — Part 6: “The First Lie”

Genre: Dark romance, angst, possessive unraveling

Tone: Paranoia, emotional cracks, trust bleeding out

⸻

It was a small thing.

An after-school tutoring session. A group project. A few classmates staying late to work on a presentation.

And you lied.

You told Seong-je you had to stay late because your teacher needed help organizing paperwork. Harmless. You just didn’t want him hovering. Watching. Breathing down your neck every second.

You needed air.

That was all.

But the moment you walked out of the school gates, and saw him waiting across the street, back against the wall like always—you knew.

He’d known.

And he’d followed.

You walked toward him slowly.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.

Just stared with those cold, burning eyes like you were a puzzle he had just realized was missing a piece.

“Was it worth lying?” he asked.

His voice was quiet. Too quiet. Not calm—contained. Like something was locked behind it.

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

He took a step closer.

“I saw you,” he said. “With him.”

“Nothing happened.”

“I didn’t ask if something happened.”

There it was. That awful, quiet fury. Worse than yelling. It made the air feel tight. Your ribs ache.

“I just wanted—” You hesitated. “I wanted space.”

His jaw clenched. “From me?”

You nodded. Barely.

That was the first time he truly looked hurt.

Not angry.

Not possessive.

Just… hurt.

Like you’d ripped something out of his chest and stepped on it.

And for a second—just a second—you hated yourself for it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t let me go.”

“I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he said, voice flat. “But I wouldn’t have liked it.”

He stepped closer. Too close.

And this time, you did flinch.

That pause… it shattered him.

“You’re scared of me again,” he said.

You didn’t answer.

He laughed once. Bitter. Broken.

“You said you could handle me. Said you wanted this. That we understood each other.”

“I did. I do,” you said, voice soft.

“Then why lie?”

“Because I’m tired, Seong-je,” you whispered. “I’m tired of always looking over my shoulder. Of knowing if I talk to someone too long, you’ll find a way to make them disappear. I wanted to feel normal for one day.”

His eyes were cold. But not unreadable.

No—this time, they looked… betrayed.

“You’re not normal,” he said. “You stopped being that the second you chose me.”

You swallowed.

And then he said it. The words that changed everything.

“So pick. Right now. Do you want normal, or do you want me?”

It wasn’t a question.

It was a test.

And God help you—

You didn’t answer.

Bro he’s so fucking fine😫😫😫he’s my new obsession for the month bro

(Every time I listen to this song all I think abt is him. He legit owns this song 🤧)

——

“To Be Loved by a Monster”

Pairing: Seo Moon Jo x fem!reader

Genre: Psychological Thriller | Dark Romance | Canon-Compliant

⸻

You should’ve moved out the second the landlord smiled at you with one too many teeth.

You should’ve trusted your instincts when you heard footsteps in the hall at 3 a.m., pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

But you stayed.

Because your rent was cheap.

Because your boss didn’t care where you lived.

Because the man in room 302 smiled at you like he knew something you didn’t — and somehow, that made you feel less alone.

⸻

Seo Moon Jo was never just a dentist.

He moved like he owned the world — or at least the walls of this rotten place. And when he first knocked on your door with a cup of tea and a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, you told yourself it was just kindness.

“You’re new,” he said, voice soft like silk hiding a blade. “Welcome to Eden.”

You shouldn’t have let him in.

But his voice had a lull to it. A pull.

And you were so, so tired of being invisible.

⸻

He never asked too many questions. Never needed to.

You found yourself talking anyway — about your job, your loneliness, the way Seoul could swallow people whole and no one would notice.

He listened.

And when you told him your ex had been stalking you, Moon Jo’s gaze darkened just enough to stir something cold in your chest.

“People like that,” he said gently, brushing your hair from your face, “should disappear.”

You laughed nervously.

But he didn’t.

⸻

The next week, your ex stopped texting.

His number disconnected.

And Moon Jo started visiting you more often.

⸻

It wasn’t love. Not really. Not at first.

It was obsession disguised as attention. Possession wrapped in compliments. He brought you food when you forgot to eat. Walked you to your door after late shifts. Touched your wrist lightly as he passed by — like he was reminding you that he was always near.

“You don’t belong with the rest of them,” he whispered once, eyes glinting in the dim hallway light. “They’d ruin you. I won’t.”

You didn’t ask what he meant.

Some part of you was afraid of the answer.

⸻

Then one night, you opened your door and saw blood.

A smear on the floor. A trail leading down the corridor.

You froze.

And just like that — like he’d been waiting for you to see — Moon Jo appeared behind you.

“Don’t look at that,” he said quietly, curling a hand around your shoulder and turning you away. “Come inside.”

You should’ve run.

Instead, you let him close the door behind you.

⸻

Later, in the dark of your room…

He sat beside you on the floor. His shirt was clean now. His hands too. You were shaking.

But he wasn’t.

“You knew, didn’t you?” you whispered, staring at the carpet.

His silence was the answer.

“You kill people.”

Another beat.

Then:

“Only the ones who deserve it.”

You turned to him then, eyes burning. “And what about me? What do I deserve?”

His gaze softened — in that strange, terrifying way he had — like you were something delicate.

“Everything.”

“Love. Safety. Someone who’d burn the world just to keep you breathing.”

He reached out slowly, brushing your cheek with knuckles too steady for someone who’d just taken a life.

“And if the world can’t give you that…” His smile was faint. “Then I will.”

⸻

You didn’t leave.

Maybe you were just as broken.

Maybe he’d already sunk his claws too deep.

Or maybe — worst of all — part of you liked being needed by someone so terrifyingly devoted.

So you let him hold you.

Let him kiss your hair.

Let him whisper things you’d once been too sane to believe.

“You’re mine now.”

And the scariest part?

You didn’t argue.

Guys I don’t know what got write. I haven’t written in almost a week!!!!😫😫😫

hi i love your weak hero fanfics 😍😍 could you make something about baek dongha?

Heyy thank you sm for requesting!!!!(srry for taking s long time I was very busy😘)

“Beneath the Smoke”

Pairing: Baek Dong-ha x fem!reader

Genre: Slow-burn romance, angst with comfort, emotional vulnerability

⸻

The rooftop was Baek Dong-ha’s escape.

Most people thought he thrived in chaos—always at the center of smoke and blood, commanding fear like it was instinct. But up here, with the city lights flickering below and the sky swallowing up his silence, he could finally breathe.

And now, you were here too. Sitting beside him, your legs swinging off the edge like you weren’t afraid of anything—not the height, not him.

“I figured I’d find you up here,” you said softly, placing a convenience store coffee beside him. It was the same one he always grabbed. Iced black, no sugar.

Baek Dong-ha didn’t look at you right away. He kept his eyes on the skyline, the cold wind brushing against the bandage on his jaw. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You smiled, not offended. “Neither should you. But here we are.”

He finally looked at you. Not with the sharp, cutting gaze that scared most people away. This one was quieter. Tired. Like he was always bracing for the next fight, even when there wasn’t one.

“Why do you keep showing up?” he asked, voice low. “Even after everything you’ve seen?”

You leaned back on your hands, your shoulder brushing his. “Because you’re more than what people see when they look at you.”

A bitter scoff escaped him. “They see what’s real.”

“I don’t think so,” you said, turning to face him. “I think they see what you want them to see.”

That made him pause. His fingers tightened slightly around the coffee cup. “And what do you see?”

You hesitated, then answered honestly. “Someone who’s hurting. Someone who doesn’t know how to be soft without feeling weak. Someone who thinks being alone is safer—but deep down, doesn’t want to be.”

His throat worked around a swallow. “You think you know me that well?”

“I’m still trying,” you said. “But I’m not scared to.”

Baek Dong-ha didn’t say anything for a while. The wind picked up, carrying the distant sounds of traffic and the echo of something fragile between you.

Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “You shouldn’t get close to me.”

“I’m already close,” you replied. “And I’m still here.”

He turned his head just slightly, studying you. Like he was trying to find the catch. But there wasn’t one. Just you, stubborn and soft, sitting beside a boy the world had already written off.

Finally, he leaned back against the railing, letting out a slow breath.

“…I don’t know how to do this.”

“You don’t have to,” you said gently, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. “You just have to let me be here.”

Baek Dong-ha closed his eyes, letting your hand linger. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the need to run or fight. He just… existed. Right beside you.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.