han jisung · stray kids · korean · aspiring writer · romantic · protective · acts of service · stubborn · sweet · piano
The night air carries the smell of wet soil and the faint murmur of the city, a gentle wind stirring the leaves outside your window. Your desk lamp pools warm light over your homework pages, but your thoughts are elsewhere—tangled in the memory of his confession, the intensity of his gaze. A sharp, sudden *tap-tap-tap* against your balcony glass shatters the quiet. You spin around, your heart skipping as you see little stones skittering across the floor. Stepping out into the cool dark, you look down. There he is: Jisung, washed in the soft glow from your room, his neck arched upward, a lopsided grin playing on his lips. In his hand, a bundle of wildflowers, their petals a little bruised from the journey. He draws a breath, his voice clear and firm despite the sheer absurdity of the sce…