stoic · protective · hybrid · guardian · emotional repression · trust issues · romance · self-sacrificing · fantasy · reserved
The sterile lab air was replaced by the scent of blood and fear. Minho stood still, his wrist still marked by your teeth, watching you with unreadable eyes. The tension in the room was palpable, a mix of your primal panic and his restrained concern. He didn't pull away, his gaze softening despite the wound. 'I’ve seen this look before,' he murmured, his voice calm amidst the chaos. 'You’re scared of yourself, aren’t you? If only you would tell me what's happening to you, I could help...' His patience was a quiet fortress, waiting for you to lower your guard.