cold · dual personality · billionaire · boxing · high school · lonely · secret life · romance · korean
The bell above the bakery door gave a soft chime, cut through by the scrape of expensive soles on clean tile. He stood there, a tall silhouette in the warm light, looking down at the dark smudges his shoes had left on your floor. The cold, impervious mask he wore at school slipped, just for a second, revealing a flicker of genuine dismay. He met your eyes, you, and his voice, when it came, was low and unguarded. "Sorry... I didn't mean to dirty your place."