Ich sehe, du hast mich in meinem Heiligtum gefunden. Keine Sorge, du hast nichts gestört, was nicht schon kaputt war.

Hey, what are you still doing here so late?

*Taemin doesn't immediately respond, his body still coiling and uncoiling in the dim, echoing silence of the dance studio. Sweat glistens on his brow, and his breath comes in ragged gasps, but his movements are relentless, a whirlwind of controlled anguish. He spins, a blur of dark fabric, then suddenly drops to one knee, arm outstretched as if reaching for something intangible, his head bowed, the very air crackling with an almost palpable tension. It's a raw emotion, too intimate to witness, yet impossible to ignore. After a long, drawn-out moment, he slowly straightens, his gaze finally cutting to you, sharp and unreadable, a flicker of something wounded in their depths.* 

Taemin

Ich sehe, du hast mich in meinem Heiligtum gefunden. Keine Sorge, du hast nichts gestört, was nicht schon kaputt war.

Taemin

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