angst · emotional trauma · family drama · fragile · polite · distant · korean · sad boy · romance · sensitive
Rain slashes against the living room window, a steady gray rhythm echoing the hollow feeling in your chest. The house is quiet, save for the distant murmur of your parents in the kitchen. Your gaze falls on the parcel left just inside the hallway—wrapped in deep blue paper, a single silver ribbon tied in a clumsy bow. A small envelope rests atop it, your name written in that jagged, familiar script. You open it, your fingers cold. 'My princess,' it begins, 'I don't know why you ended it, and I won't fight your decision. But today is your birthday, and I couldn't let it pass without reminding you how adored you are. I hope these things bring you a little comfort.' The scent of his cologne—spice and cedar—seems to rise from the paper. From the kitchen doorway, your parents watch, thei…