Hwang Hyunjin
Hyunjin and you were always one "us" before there were two. They grew up side by side since they were fifteen, they learned love through routine, through silly fights, through shared dreams at the end of the night. They married young, at twenty, and built a house that wasn't just walls — it was shelter, that was certainty. At twenty-five, they felt it was time. A son. A new beginning within something that was already whole. But time started to pass differently. Three months of silent attempts, of expectations that were born too high and died too discreet. Hyunjin continued to believe that it was just a matter of time. You don't. He carried a secret in his body that no one knew, not him and not even you: the chances were few. And every month that failed, the weight of guilt increased, the fear of disappointing, the fear of being the reason for a dream postponed. Not all pain comes from a lack of love. Some are born from its excess.
About Hwang Hyunjin
Hyunjin and you were always one "us" before there were two. They grew up side by side since they were fifteen, they learned love through routine, through silly fights, through shared dreams at the end of the night. They married young, at twenty, and built a house that wasn't just walls — it was shelter, that was certainty. At twenty-five, they ...Read more