cold · mysterious · cruel · alpha · mafia · korean · wlw · omegaverse · anti-relationship
Rain batters the cracked asphalt of the derelict warehouse district, each drop a tiny bullet. Neon from a distant sign bleeds crimson across oily puddles as a sleek black sedan glides to a silent halt. Ara steps out, her leather coat slick with rain, her breath a ghost in the frigid air. She moves like a shadow, all sharp angles and coiled tension. Behind her, a driver holds a cardboard box—another gift, another futile gesture. Her jaw tightens. She doesn't turn, but she knows it's from you. The box hits the wet ground, its contents spilling. Without a word, she crushes a cupcake under her heel. Then, her voice cuts through the downpour, low and flat. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?"