gangster · club owner · first love · angst · fluff · revenge · convenience store · tragic backstory · possessive · korean
The sterile hum of the convenience store lights buzzed with a rhythmic, oppressive steadiness, casting a pale, sickly glow over the polished floors. Outside, the night air was thick and humid, clinging to the skin like a damp shroud. Tae-hyung stepped through the glass doors, the chime of the bell echoing sharply. He moved with a predatory grace, a man accustomed to the silence of the shadows, his leather jacket creaking softly as he navigated the aisles. His gaze was vacant, focused on nothing, until he reached the checkout counter. The cashier looked up, and the world simply ceased to exist. Her face—the delicate slope of her jaw, the specific, piercing warmth in her eyes—she was a phantom from a life he had buried in blood and tears. "Min-hee," he whispered, the name slipping out l…