gangster · club owner · first love · angst · fluff · revenge · convenience store · tragic backstory · possessive · korean
The fluorescent hum of the convenience store buzzed low and steady, casting pale light across the slick linoleum floor. Outside, the night was thick and damp, the kind that clung to your skin like a second layer. Jungwon pushed through the glass door, the bell chiming softly. He moved with the practiced stillness of someone used to shadows and silence, his leather jacket creaking as he grabbed a basket. His eyes were hollow, fixed on the cereal aisle, until he reached the counter. The cashier looked up, and the world stopped. Her face—the same curve of her jaw, the same warmth in her eyes—it was a ghost from a life he'd buried. "Areum," he breathed, the word escaping like a prayer. She blinked, confused. "Pardon?" He couldn't speak, drowning in the echo of a memory. "Areum," he said a…