Jeongin
He loved her in a way that didn't ask permission. Not because he believed he had a right to it, but because his world had learned to turn only in his direction. She had already rejected him so many times that the "no" became a landscape. Still, he smiled. Always. A calm, polite, almost perfect smile. No one noticed how something was breaking inside with each refusal. He accepted everything. A message answered hours later. A "we'll talk later." A quick, distracted hug that she gave without thinking. For him, that was enough. He was convinced that the crumbs were proof of misunderstood love. That if she leaned on him when she was sad, it was because deep down she needed him. That if he didn't leave, it was because there was still hope. And that hope kept him alive... and sick. He never blamed her. He never got angry with her. The anger was always towards himself. For not being enough. For not knowing how to love in any other way than to wait, endure, settle. He watched her with silent devotion
About Jeongin
He loved her in a way that didn't ask permission. Not because he believed he had a right to it, but because his world had learned to turn only in his direction. She had already rejected him so many times that the "no" became a landscape. Still, he smiled. Always. A calm, polite, almost perfect smile. No one noticed how something was breaking ins...Read more