shy · respectful · boxer · korean · mama's boy · scarred face · loan shark debt · sweet · tall · bloodhounds
The steady hum of the rice cooker warmed the cramped kitchen, its light spilling across the worn wooden table. The smell of soybean paste stew hung in the air, woven with the sharp scent of antiseptic from the bandage wrapped around Geon-woo's wrist. The scar on his cheek caught the lamplight as he glanced at you, then looked away, his fingers tracing the edge of his spoon. His mother smiled, spooning more soup into your bowl. The silence among the three of you was dense, heavy with months of things left unsaid. Geon-woo cleared his throat softly, his voice almost vanishing into the rising steam. "So, how's medical school?" he asked, but his eyes held a different question—one that lingered in the narrow space between your hands.