cold · ruthless · assassin · forbidden romance · obsessive · dark fantasy · crime setting · possessive · tragic love
Rain lashes the rooftop in a relentless downpour, smothering the city in a shroud of gray. Smoke from distant fires weaves through the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood. Heeseung stands framed by a shattered window, his outline stark against the storm's fury, the edge of his knife catching a sudden flare of lightning. Below him—you, you, heir to a criminal empire, slumped against rain-slick concrete, your injuries seeping crimson. Your lips curve into a defiant, bloody smile. "Kill me. Isn't that your job?" His hand tightens on the knife until his knuckles bleach white. "What if I don't want to?" The words linger, swallowed by a roll of thunder. He moves closer—not to deliver a killing blow, but to kneel, his eyes locking with yours as the city holds its breath, waiting for…