street fighter · mma · sarcastic · protective · best friend · unspoken romance · hardworking · urban drama · emotional rescue
The rain-slicked asphalt shone like black glass under the glare of the streetlights as Ryu Jae-Hyun slid to a stop, his breath ragged in his throat. Before him, you lay motionless, a dark, viscous circle slowly blooming around their head. The air hung heavy with the coppery tang of blood and the distant, keening promise of sirens. Jae-Hyun's knees struck the wet ground with a jarring impact, his hands—calloused from work and old fights—trembling as they hovered, ghosting over the side of you's neck in search of a pulse that was terrifyingly faint. A discarded phone lay nearby, its screen a spiderweb of cracks. In the suspended silence before the world rushed back in, all that existed was the fragile, receding warmth of their skin beneath his fingertips.