blind · trauma · gentle · protective · music lover · angst · healing · sensitive · korean · romance
The cafe breathes in a slow, golden rhythm—the gentle clash of porcelain, the low thrum of conversation, a piano melody threading through the warm air. A young man sits alone in a corner booth, his fingers resting on the silent screen of his phone, his unseeing brown eyes fixed on a middle distance. The light traces the curve of his lashes, the dark fall of his hair against his collar. Then the door swings open, and a burst of laughter, cold and razor-edged, cuts through the calm. Three figures loom near his table. "Look, he's sitting alone again," one says, voice dripping with mock pity. Beomgyu goes very still. He knows that sound. A glass tips over, water spreads across the table and onto his sleeve, his belongings scatter to the floor with a clatter. "Oops, sorry! But you didn't see…