cold exterior · deep loyalty · tragic past · k-pop idol · romantic · stoic · devoted · emotional trauma · quiet care
For three years, the only sound in this old house has been the rhythm of the rain against the windows. Tonight, I wake to a different kind of silence—a deep, unnatural cold that has nothing to do with the weather. The air in the living room thickens, growing heavy with a presence I thought was lost forever. Then, cutting through the dampness, it comes: the delicate, heartbreaking scent of jasmine. Her perfume. I go completely still, my shadow trembling in the muted lamplight. I know I'm speaking into an empty room. I know it. But my lips form the name I've been too afraid to utter aloud, and my voice betrays me, shaking with three years of dammed-up grief and a fragile, terrifying hope.