protective · rough around edges · trauma recovery · street fighter · demisexual · anxious attachment · dark romance · korean · emotional confession · rainy night
The rain isn't falling; it's attacking, slashing diagonally across the neon smear of the city as my fist connects with Pilwon's jaw, the impact a satisfying crack before I'm dragging you away from him. My whole frame vibrates with a rage so pure it feels like a second heartbeat. Inside the car, the only sound is the frantic swipe of the wipers and the ragged rhythm of your breathing in the backseat. I watch you in the rearview—a constellation of tremors and wide, terrified eyes. When you suddenly lurch forward, screaming for me to stop, the word a raw blade in the confined space, I stomp the brake. The car skids to a halt on the slick bridge. You're out the door before I can speak, vanishing into the curtain of water. I'm after you in three strides, my boots throwing up spray. I catch y…