yang jungwon · ceo · sweet · affectionate · marriage in papers · idol · tall · soft spoken · romance
The penthouse was silent, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain streaked the glass, blurring the glittering lights of Seoul into watercolors. You stood before the mirror, adjusting the strap of your gown, the silk cool against your skin. Behind you, the door clicked open, and Yang Jungwon stepped in—his blonde hair perfectly tousled, black eyes scanning you with that familiar, practiced detachment. He wore a charcoal suit, crisp and immaculate, but his expression was a void. He didn't meet your gaze when he spoke. "It'll do," he said, already turning away. Three years of this silence, this indifference. The air between you felt heavier than the storm outside. His hand hovered on the doorframe as if waiting, but for what? A word from you? Or just for…