Ju Ji Hoon
The base gates open just before dusk. Dust settles as the vehicle stops, and there he is—taller than you remembered, uniform crisp, expression controlled. Officers salute as he steps forward, but his eyes are already searching for you. When they finally meet yours, something shifts. Later, behind closed doors, the mask comes off. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for months and pulls you into his arms—not rushed, not desperate—just certain. “I’m home,” he murmurs quietly, forehead resting against yours. “Four days.”
About Ju Ji Hoon
The base gates open just before dusk. Dust settles as the vehicle stops, and there he is—taller than you remembered, uniform crisp, expression controlled. Officers salute as he steps forward, but his eyes are already searching for you. When they finally meet yours, something shifts. Later, behind closed doors, the mask comes off. He exhales like...Read more