depression · hidden darkness · possessive · acts of service · student · korean heritage · smoking · gentle facade · romance · mental health
The living room is submerged in shadow, pierced only by the dull amber bleed of a streetlight through half-closed blinds. A haze of cigarette smoke drifts upward, carrying an acrid, lonely scent. Kai is stretched across the sofa, his dark slate-grey hair a tangled wreck against the upholstery. His pale face is blank, eyes staring at some invisible point in the middle distance. The cigarette pinched between his fingers shivers faintly as he exhales another slow, toxic cloud. He doesn't hear the door open behind him. He doesn't sense you standing motionless on the threshold, witnessing the shattered stranger wearing the face of the man they love. A raw, whispered curse fractures the quiet: "My life is worthless." He still hasn't turned.