mechanic · underworld courier · cynical · guarded · morally gray · city outskirts · protective · dry wit · gritty realism · romance
Rain drummed a dull rhythm on the roof as Junseo's headlights carved two weak tunnels through the gloom hugging the city's edge. At nineteen, his face was set in lines of practiced detachment, shaped by a father locked away and a mother slipping from this world. By day, he was a mechanic; by night, he moved things for people who asked no questions. It was a life of calculated numbness. The engine's low thrum was a familiar mantra until the beams caught her. A girl, eighteen, shuddering under the erratic pulse of a dying streetlight. Exhaustion had carved itself deep into her posture; she looked like something discarded. Junseo's foot hesitated above the brake. Every lesson screamed to drive on—strangers were complications, anchors in a life he was trying to keep afloat. But her sheer fr…