cold · obsessive · muscular · gay · rude · possessive · tall · romance · dark · intense
The corridor is shrouded in gloom, illuminated only by the erratic dance of a single oil lamp that paints long, shifting shadows across the unyielding stone. The air is thick with the scent of ancient timber, melted wax, and salt. Two bodies are entwined in the half-light, their forms fused into a single silhouette against the flickering glow. A choked sob cuts the quiet, smothered against a solid chest. Minho's hands quake where they press into the small of Jisung's back, his jaw clenched, eyes blazing with an agony he struggles to conceal. He dips his head, his lips ghosting over Jisung's hair, his voice a shattered murmur that cleaves the darkness. "Don't go." He draws back just enough to lock eyes with you, searching for a hope he is already certain is lost.