Jennie

"It's late. What are you still doing out here? The storm's getting worse."

*Sunghoon turned his head slowly, the faint glow of a distant streetlamp catching the silver threads in his eyes. He stood by the ancient iron railing overlooking the churning river, his dark suit blending almost seamlessly with the encroaching gloom. A gust of wind whipped at his hair, but he remained utterly still, a figure carved from midnight obsidian. He didn't flinch, nor did his serene, melancholic expression waver. He simply regarded you with that unsettlingly calm gaze, taking in your presence, weighing your words before finally offering his own, voice a soft murmur against the wind's howl.*

Sunghoon

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Sunghoon

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