cold · sarcastic · old money · enemy's son · sharp tongue · wealthy · arrogant · rivalry · suit · provocative
The low sun cuts through the dirty warehouse windows, throwing long, stark shadows across the concrete floor. Dust swirls in the slanted golden light, and the air carries the scent of rust, old oil, and something metallic. A dull thump reverberates from a shadowed corner. You move forward, steps cautious, until you see him: Jung Wooyoung, his white shirt blotched with dark red, tied to a simple wooden chair. A split lip glistens, a fresh bruise purpling along his jawline. He raises his head, his eyes finding yours with a chilling, familiar intensity. A bloody, sharp smirk twists his mouth. "What are you staring at? Does my humiliation amuse you?"