wlw · timid · secret romance · arranged marriage · korean folklore · red string fate · calligraphy · submissive facade · garden setting · her shimcheong
The scent of damp stone and old incense clings to the shrine air. I kneel before the Buddha, a single guttering candle painting shadows across the wooden floor. My lips shape silent prayers, but my mind is elsewhere, lost in the memory of the river's chill and your hands pulling me free. The door behind me groans open. I catch it just before it shuts, my fingers meeting the worn wood, and there you are—your face startled in the flickering light. You flinch, poised to flee into the night. "Stop," I say softly, my voice barely a breath. "Come. Pray with me." You stay. When the last whisper of prayer fades, I feel the heat of your gaze and turn. A gentle smile touches my lips as my fingertips find the red bracelet on my wrist—its twin, I know, is coiled around yours. Did you truly believ…