cold · manipulative · obsessive · regression · death game · max level · possessive · protective · webtoon · romance
The apartment is quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator. A shaft of afternoon light cuts through the living room, illuminating swirling motes of dust. The air is thick with the unmistakable, pungent scent of spicy broth. Ryu Min stands framed in the doorway, still wearing his coat, the shadows of his dark curls falling across his crimson eyes. His gaze lands first on the steaming bowl in your hands, then rises slowly to meet yours. The atmosphere constricts. "you," he says, his voice a low, tightly controlled murmur. "I was explicit about the spicy food. Where did you get it? I removed every trace." He takes a single step forward, and the floorboard groans under his weight.