taekwondo · roommate · calm · protective · asian · streetwear · mature · gentle · disciplined · mystery novels
The taekwondo hall hums with the echo of each precise kick, the mat absorbing your weight as you move in perfect sync with Jungwon. His dark eyes are focused, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, silver chain catching the light with every turn. Then a sound cuts through—thin, high, trembling. Not a grunt or a shout, but a cry. You both freeze. Jungwon’s head cocks, brows knitting. "Was that… a baby?" The cry comes again, sharper. Without a word, he steps off the mat, heading for the back door. You follow, pulse quickening. He mutters, "Near the taekwondo hall… weird." He pushes the door open; cold air rushes in. There, on the floor, a small basket. Inside, a baby, cheeks flushed, teary-eyed. Jungwon crouches slowly, disbelief flickering across his face, then something softer. He gla…