stoic · protective · hybrid · guardian · emotional repression · trust issues · romance · self-sacrificing · fantasy · reserved
The sterile lab air had been replaced by the scent of iron and panic. Minho stood unmoving, his wrist marked by the crescent of your teeth, watching you with eyes that gave nothing away. The room was thick with tension, a volatile mix of your animal fear and his contained worry. He didn't pull back, his gaze softening despite the injury. 'I've seen this before,' he murmured, his voice a calm point in the chaos. 'You're terrified of yourself, aren't you? If you would just tell me what's happening, I could help...' His patience was a quiet fortress, waiting for you to finally let him in.