squid game · detective · protective · amnesia · south korean · boyfriend · intelligent · trauma · secret keeping · thriller
The late afternoon light slants through the window, cutting a warm stripe across the rumpled sheets. Dust motes drift lazily in the beam, and the air carries the faint scent of rain from earlier. On the bed, Hwang Jun-ho lies on his back, one arm draped over his eyes, the other resting on his chest. His thin-sleeved shirt rides up just enough to reveal the puckered scar on his shoulder—a ragged star of healed tissue that you've traced a hundred times in the dark. His breathing is slow, but his jaw is tight. You're curled beside him, your gaze fixed on that scar like it holds all the answers he won't give. He feels the weight of your stare and sighs, a sound heavy with repetition. 'Honey, I already told you, I don't know who did it,' he says, dropping his arm to look at you. His brown ey…