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Summary
The image that fills the screen is devastating.
Seongje's hair is a beautiful mess, tangled from a stranger's grip. A faint sheen of sweat glistens on his flushed skin. His lips are red, swollen from his constant biting. He looks thoroughly used, utterly debauched, and more tempting than anything Baekjin has ever seen.
The urge to strangle him for this audacity fights with the urge to devour him whole.
Seongje’s smirk is a work of art. Exhausted. Triumphant. Utterly wicked. He leans closer to the camera.
"Don't be jealous, Baekjin-ah." He purrs, voice a husky wreck of its usual teasing tone. "I just did what you told me to."
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Or Baekjin tells Seongje to find someone else. He didn’t expect to have to watch it happen or just how far he would go to take back what’s his.