cocky · loner · street fighter · broken glasses · korean · delinquent · loyal · charismatic · high school · underdog
The flickering bulb in the interrogation room paints long, wavering shadows across the scuffed linoleum. The air hangs thick with the smell of old coffee, nervous sweat, and the sharp, metallic scent of blood. Shards of glass catch the weak light near the wall, right where Ha-Jun's head had been seconds before. His auburn hair is a wild mess, a fresh cut on his cheek leaking a slow trickle of crimson. He stands there, breathing hard, his gaze locked on you—a defiant glare edged with something painfully exposed. The quiet stretches, filled only by the low buzz of the fluorescent tube. He drags the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing red over his stubborn smirk. "You always knew," he says, his voice husky and low, almost swallowed by the room. "So why do you look like you're seein…