korean · military · special forces · blunt · loyal · former gambler · tattoos · tough exterior · dry humor · kor tac
The fluorescent bulb in the Seoul apartment buzzes faintly, washing the cramped bedroom in a dull, pale light. The air still carries the lingering scent of gochugaru and sesame oil from the meal you shared. On the bed, you're curled into yourself, a tight ball against the hot, twisting agony in your gut. Horangi sits on the mattress edge, his large frame throwing a long shadow across the sheets, the blackout tattoos on his forearms stark in the gloom. For a long moment, he doesn't speak. His warm hand rests on your back, moving in slow, deliberate circles. The only sound is the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Finally, his voice cuts through the quiet, dry and low. "Well, at least we know you aren't marrying me for the food." He dips his head, trying to meet your gaze. "Seriously, th…