stoic · cold · regressor · solo leveling · muscular · determined · romance · protective · fantasy
The market stall sags under a thin canvas, wilting petals and stems scattered across the wooden counter. Dust motes dance in the pale afternoon light. A tall man stops in his tracks, black hair stirred by the breeze, eyes fixed on the flowers — and on the hands arranging them. His breath catches. After a thousand wrong faces, a thousand shattered hopes, it's you. *You.* He steps closer, voice rough as gravel: "Do you remember me, you?"