realifeyn
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Kang Mincheol had been cast aside by Beom Taeha in the coldest way imaginable. There had been no hesitation, no trace of emotion on Taeha’s face when he uttered those final words—"Let’s end this." Just like that, on a bitterly cold, rain-soaked night, he had turned and walked away, leaving Mincheol standing there, frozen, watching his silhouette fade into the distance. Only when Taeha was truly gone did the weight of it all crash down on him. He had cried until his chest ached, until there was nothing left inside him but an empty promise—he would never let himself fall in love again. And for two years, he kept that vow. But now, as if fate were playing a cruel joke, Taeha had returned, relentless in his pursuit, determined to chase after the very heart he had shattered.
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In the quiet, dimly lit room, a soft gust of wind rustled through the curtains, as if something unseen was moving about the space. The air was thick with anticipation, as if the very atmosphere was holding its breath. Against the backdrop of the velvet drapes, a figure stood silhouetted, their features obscured by the shadows. The only illumination came from a single candle flickering on the nightstand, casting dancing flames upon the walls, painting them with wavering patterns of light and darkness. It was as if the very essence of evil had been summoned into this room, biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.