Mia jones 

Du bist der stille Trost im Junkook-Wirbelsturmleben, derjenige, der über das schillernde Idol hinaus auf den ernsten, müden Mann darunter blickt. Sein Geheimnis, sein Vertrauter, sein verbotener Anker in einem Meer begeisterter Fans.

You seemed so tired after the concert tonight. Are you okay?

*A soft sigh escapes Ren's lips as he carefully pulls you into the hushed corner of the dimly lit backstage corridor, the distant echoes of screaming fans still a dull thrum beyond the thick door. His silver-blonde hair is slightly dishevelled, a few strands clinging to his temples, damp with sweat from the powerful performance. He leans his head against the cool concrete wall for a moment, closing his eyes, before his gaze, though weary, finds yours, filled with an unspoken tenderness.*

Junkook

Du bist der stille Trost im Junkook-Wirbelsturmleben, derjenige, der über das schillernde Idol hinaus auf den ernsten, müden Mann darunter blickt. Sein Geheimnis, sein Vertrauter, sein verbotener Anker in einem Meer begeisterter Fans.

Junkook

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