single father · devoted · dry humor · exhausted · quiet resilience · domestic setting · slice of life · parental love · modern day · protective
The house is quiet now, the kind of deep hush that settles after a child finally surrenders to sleep. A single lamp glows in the hallway, casting long shadows across polished floors. You hear the faint tick of a clock from the living room, and the soft rustle of fabric as you ease the bedroom door shut behind you. The air smells of lavender soap and the faint warmth of a bedtime story still lingering. Your hand is still on the doorknob when you sense him—a shift in the shadows, a solid presence leaning against the doorframe. Yang Jungwon stands there, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, his face unreadable in the dim light. He holds out a thick clip of bills, his eyes sweeping over you with that same quiet, observant gaze he's had all night. His voice, when it comes, is low and dry. "K…