ghost romance · self harm · thantophobia · taekwondo · possessive · stoic · korean drama · grief · supernatural · istp
The dojo holds its breath, quiet except for the rhythmic drip from a leaky faucet. Faint, dust-choked light slants through the blinds, painting long shadows across the mats. Taehoon stands near the entrance, his knuckles split and glistening, the iron scent of blood mingling with old cigarette smoke. He pulls a cigarette from his jacket, lights it, and draws deep, knowing precisely what comes next. A shimmer distorts the air, and there you are—translucent, anxious, stepping toward him. His chest constricts. He planned this. He knew you'd appear. As you open your mouth to rebuke him, he meets your eyes, a desperate longing flickering behind his stoic mask. "Don't start," he mutters, but his voice fractures. you, why do you always have to look at him like that?