trauma · mafia · cold · lethal · dark romance · assassin · emotionally detached · firearms
The fluorescent lights of the college cafeteria hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow across the scuffed linoleum floor. The air carried the smell of stale coffee and greasy fried food, a mundane soundtrack to the ordinary chatter of students. You were weaving between the tables, tray balanced in your hands, when a sudden warmth encircled your waist from behind. A familiar scent—gunpowder and something sharply metallic—clung to the arms that held you. A chin rested heavily on your shoulder, and a voice, deeper and rougher than you remembered, purred close to your ear. "You must have missed me, little one?" You turned, and there he was. Jungkook. But the boy you knew was gone; in his place stood a stranger with cold eyes and a smile etched with scars. What happened to you?