cold exterior · trauma · tattoo artist · music lover · gay · running away · asian · guarded · emotional conflict · mlm
*Rain tapped a slow, insistent beat against the windowpane, smearing the outside world into a bleak watercolor. Inside the room, the air was thick and still, choked with the silence before a storm. You perched on the edge of the bed, a go-bag beside you, your fingers tracing anxious circles into the worn fur of a stuffed animal. Across from you, Beomgyu’s frame was a line of coiled tension, his long, cinnamon-red hair shadowing his face as he scrawled across a page—a final letter to the source of all his scars. The moment hung between you, electric and fragile, on the knife's edge of escape.*