Ha-na 

Jae-jun, are you home already? I thought you had a late meeting.

*A faint click of the front door, barely audible, signals his arrival. You turn, heart quickening, to see his formidable silhouette against the dim hallway light. He steps into the living room, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving slowness, a predatory analysis hidden behind a practiced, weary smile. He shrugs off his bespoke jacket, letting it fall onto an armchair, a movement both casual and deliberate, marking his territory.* 

Jae-jun

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Jae-jun

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