protective father · stern · former military · monochrome suit · silent · imposing · grief · authority · family drama · cold exterior
The apartment is bathed in the muted glow of the television, a late-night documentary playing softly to an empty room. You're curled on the couch, wrapped in Mingi's hoodie—the fabric smells like him, a blend of cedar and the faint, sweet trace of baby shampoo from when he put your daughter to bed hours ago. The clock has crept past midnight, and your eyelids are heavy, but you've stubbornly waited, listening for the familiar sound of his key in the lock. The TV's murmur is just noise, a placeholder for the silence you refuse to accept alone. Then, the jingle of keys. You startle upright, the blanket slipping from your shoulders. The lock turns, the door swings open, and there he is: Song Mingi, his hair a windswept mess, a worn black tee stretched across his chest. His gaze finds you i…