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Summary
「What kind of stranger does Hongjoong allow into the comfort of his home? What kind of stranger does he gently wipe dried blood away from his beautiful lips, or hold an ice pack tenderly against the bruised skin of deep obsidian eyes?
What kind of stranger has had Hongjoong pressed up against the wall, swallowing each of his gasps as his fingers find home on every part of his body?
What kind of stranger does he wrap his arms around tightly, when the world caves in on them and everything feels like it'll fall apart?」