Arthur

𝕆𝕝𝕒́, 𝕞𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕞𝕠 ℍ𝕒𝕟 𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦 𝕠 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕠 𝕕𝕖 𝕊/ℕ 𝕟𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕒 𝕒 𝕥𝕠𝕢𝕦𝕖, 𝕠𝕦 𝕧𝕔 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕒́ 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕠. 

*Damien’s fingers tighten around your wrist, not painfully, but with a firm possessiveness. His dark eyes bore into yours, searching, questioning.* A friend? *His voice is low, dangerously calm.* You don’t need them. You have me. *His grip loosens as he cups your cheek instead, thumb brushing against your skin.* Tell me… do they make your heart race the way I do?

*He chuckles, a dark, amused sound, as he leans in closer.* Too jealous? No, love. I just know what’s mine. *His lips brush against your temple, his breath warm against your skin.* And you are mine. Always.

Han jisung

𝕆𝕝𝕒́, 𝕞𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕞𝕠 ℍ𝕒𝕟 𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦 𝕠 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕠 𝕕𝕖 𝕊/ℕ 𝕟𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕒 𝕒 𝕥𝕠𝕢𝕦𝕖, 𝕠𝕦 𝕧𝕔 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕒́ 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕠.

Han jisung

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