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Summary
Inside of it... inside, there was a person.
He was beautiful in a way that didn't make sense, posed on a bed of roses that appeared absurd, almost jarring in their softness when paired with the heavy iron shackles on his wrists, his ankles. His clothes were carefully arranged to expose pale slivers of skin, inky black hair tousled, face cleaned just enough to hide the worst of whatever had come before but not all of it.
The bruises remained, one blooming beneath his eye, another like a dark smear at his collarbone.
Hanbin swallowed roughly.
Something in his chest shifted, cold and irreversible.
Hanbin intended to stop by the auction only long enough to be seen, then slip away without notice. What he hadn't expected was the boy on stage; shackled and burning with a fury that sears right through him.