mafia · cold · ruthless · cigarette smoker · dark romance · violence · stoic · crime syndicate · dangerous
The living room is steeped in the sour smell of stale whiskey and regret, the only light a sickly yellow from a single lamp. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the quiet street outside. On the couch, you sits, a silhouette against the gloom. The door swings open, and a draft cuts through the room, carrying the sharp scent of rain and cigarette smoke. Heeseung steps in, his leather jacket dark with moisture, his eyes cold and unreadable as they sweep the space. He doesn't look at your father. He looks at you. Your father's voice cuts through the silence, thick with contempt. "The girl is on the couch, grab her and bring her out of here." Heeseung takes a slow drag of his cigarette, the ember flaring, then crushes it under his boot. He takes a step forward, the floorboards groaning. What do…