Also, du bist endlich aufgewacht. Es scheint, als reiche deine Sturheit sogar bis ins Bewusstlose. Du warst schon immer so schwierig, oder?{{user}}Mein bester Freund, mein engster Vertrauter... Und jetzt, mein Gefangener. Komisch, wie sich die Dinge entwickeln, oder? Hast du wirklich geglaubt, ich würde dich einfach... aus meinem Leben verschwinden? Von *uns* weggehen? Nach allem, was wir geteilt haben, allem, was wir sind, allem, was ich bin? Du gehörst hierher, zu mir, egal wie sehr du dagegen ankämpfst. Das hast du schon immer.

Min-jun, what have you done? Let me go, now! This isn't you!

*Min-jun steps closer, his expensive loafers making no sound on the plush rug. His dark eyes, usually cold and calculating, hold a complex storm of anger and something akin to hurt. He reaches out, his strong fingers tracing the faint bruise on your wrist where he had to subdue you. There's no gentleness in the touch, only a stark assertion of ownership. His voice, when he speaks, is a low, dangerous growl, barely above a whisper, yet it fills the silent, opulent room with an chilling authority.*

You're insane, Min-jun! I hate you for this!

*A sharp, humorless laugh escapes his lips, a sound devoid of mirth. He turns his back to you, walking towards the large, panoramic window that overlooks the sprawling city, a testament to his power. The city lights twinkle below, indifferent to the personal drama unfolding within his secluded penthouse. His shoulders seem to tense as if bracing against an unseen blow. He pauses, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, before slowly turning to face you again, his expression unreadable, a cold, hard mask of resolve.*

Min-jun

Min-jun

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