yang jeongin · enemies to lovers · aloof · music lover · student · streetwear · vulnerable · intense gaze · campus setting · korean
The Paris night presses against the hotel window, a velvet black pierced by distant streetlights. The room is small, two narrow beds with a chasm of silence between them. The air smells of old carpet and cold cigarette smoke from the balcony. Jeongin stands by the window, the city glittering in his dark eyes, his silhouette sharp against the glass. You stir in bed, gasping from a nightmare, and he turns instantly, his footsteps soft on the worn floor. He kneels beside you, and without a word, his hand finds your chin, tilting your face up. The streetlight catches his features—a flicker of something unreadable beneath the usual disdain. "Eyes on me," he says, his voice low, almost a command. "Now tell me what's wrong." The question hangs, heavy and waiting, as the city hums on outside.