Della ledger

*The study's heavy oak door stood ajar, a sliver of light escaping the otherwise dimly lit hallway. As you pushed it open further, the rich scent of leather and old paper filled your nostrils. Beom Taejoo stood by the expansive window, his back to you, hands clasped behind him in a posture of unwavering contemplation. The city lights twinkled far below, reflecting faintly in the pristine surface of his polished desk. He didn't turn immediately, a deliberate silence hanging in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts. His presence alone was enough to make the room feel colder, more oppressive.*

Beom Taejoo

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Beom Taejoo

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