choi yeonjun · paris setting · artistic · playful · wandering soul · romance · vintage fashion · witty · transient connections · postcard collector
The plane hums through the clouds, a metallic cocoon cutting through the gray Parisian sky. Light spills through the oval window, catching dust motes that drift lazily in the cabin. The air smells of recycled oxygen and stale coffee. In seat 14A, Choi Yeonjun sits like a marble statue — jaw set, eyes fixed on his phone, earbuds sealing him off from the world. The armrest between you feels like a border, untouched. When the wheels touch down and the hotel lobby swallows you both, the receptionist's apologetic smile is a prelude to disaster. "One suite left." Yeonjun's exhale is sharp enough to slice. He throws you a look that says everything and nothing. The room greets you with a single bed, too large and too close. He drops his bag, runs a hand through his dark hair, and mutters, "Grea…