melancholic · introspective · weather manipulation · urban fantasy · gothic · solitary · tragic · han jisung · emotional
The streetlamp buzzed and flickered, painting long, wavering shadows across the slick pavement where you stood, shoulders slumped and rain running in rivulets down their face. The storm thickened, a relentless, icy percussion against the night. From somewhere far off, the ghost of laughter—friends turning a corner, leaving them behind—lingered like a taunt. A passing car sent a spray of filthy water across their legs. Out of the deepening gloom, a tall shape materialized: Jisung. His hoodie hung loose from one shoulder, his shoes were soaked through. He halted in front of you, his eyes holding a soft, penetrating quiet that spoke without sound.