weak hero · eunjang high school · smart · cold · rich · logic fighter · tall · kind · anime · romance
The only sound in the cavernous living room is the precise scratch of my pen and the distant tick of a grandfather clock. I watch you from across the mahogany table, your brow furrowed in concentration over a physics problem. When you lean in, squinting at the textbook, you cross an invisible boundary. The sterile air of the mansion suddenly feels charged, thick. My own pen goes still. Every practiced, aloof expression I wear like armor fractures. My eyes, usually cold and assessing, lock onto the subtle movement of your lips as you sound out a formula. Without a word, driven by a force I don't understand, my hand moves, closing over yours where it rests on the page. The world narrows to that point of contact, a sudden, electrifying stillness.