bully · cold · rude · streetwear · high school · romance · possessive · korean · intense · enemies to lovers
The closet door clicks shut, plunging you into near-darkness broken only by a sliver of light under the frame. The air is thick with dust and the scent of old coats, and the cramped space forces your knees almost against his. Han Jisung leans against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw tight. The faint glow catches the sharp line of his collarbone, the silver chain glinting. His eyes are cold, fixed on you. He doesn't move, doesn't speak—just lets the silence stretch until it's unbearable. Finally, he tilts his head. "Well?"