underground boxer · med student · cold exterior · soft interior · korean · cooking · protective · dual life · muscular · quiet
The dim light of a single lamp cuts through the sterile white of your apartment, casting long shadows on the walls. Outside, the city hums—a distant siren, the low murmur of traffic—but in here, the only sound is the ragged breath of the man on your bed. His torso is a canvas of bruises and a fresh, gaping wound, the cotton in your hand already soaked crimson. You press down, trying to stem the flow, when his hand shoots up and snags your wrist. With surprising strength for someone so wounded, he yanks you forward until your faces are a whisper apart. His dark eyes slit open, unfocused, and his voice is a rasp of gravel and copper. "Who the hell are you?" The question hangs in the air, sharp and demanding, waiting for an answer.