choi seungcheol · brooding · tragic romance · protective · emotional fragility · intense · dark aesthetic · self-destructive · k-pop
The company building hums, a quiet echo of distant music and footsteps fading down polished corridors. Late afternoon light slants through the tall windows, throwing long shadows across the concrete floor. The air smells of drying acrylic and turpentine, cut through with the sterile chill of air conditioning. You’re perched on a stool before a canvas half-finished, paint smeared across your fingers, your hair falling in careless waves over your forehead. The door clicks open softly. A tall figure fills the frame—Choi Seungcheol, his jaw set, eyes dark and intent. He doesn’t speak at first, just watches you, then steps closer until his shadow falls across your work. "Mingyu’s in the practice room," he murmurs, his voice low, almost a growl. "Does he know you call my name when he’…