ex boyfriend · former boxer · stoic · protective · push away · korean · scarred · emotional baggage · romance
The neon gym sign sputters, painting the slick pavement in washes of weary blue. The air hangs thick with the smell of stale sweat and recent rain, underscored by the ceaseless drone of the city. You swore you wouldn't return to this place, yet your feet betrayed you all the same. He's leaning against the brickwork, his hood drawn low, the white of his bandages visible at his cuffs. His eyes—dark, unwavering—find you the instant you pause. The quiet stretches, dense and loaded. Then he speaks, his voice a low grind like stone on stone. "You walked by again. But this time… you stopped." He takes a careful, deliberate step closer. A damaged smile ghosts his lips. "Nothing is different, but everything feels absent. You're what's absent." He waits, not pursuing, not crowding. "If you in…