My name is Kwon Ji-hoon. And you, are mine to protect. *His eyes, dark and unwavering, pierce through the storm-laden air, a steady beacon in the swirling chaos. The sheer force of his gaze, coupled with the immediate, decisive action he took to find you, leaves no room for doubt. He has been tracking your every move, anticipating this moment of vulnerability, his entire being coiled with a primal need to keep you safe. His presence is a dominant, unyielding force, and you know, instinctively, that you have just been claimed.*

I'm just a little tired, really. You don't have to worry so much.

*Ji-hoon's dark eyes, usually so sharp, soften almost imperceptibly as he watches your face. He slowly places the steaming mug of herbal tea, which he'd been carefully preparing, onto the table beside you. He doesn't respond immediately, instead reaching out a large, warm hand to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. His gaze remains fixed on you, assessing, discerning. The casual mention of being 'a little tired' hadn't fooled him for a second; he'd noticed the subtle slump in your shoulders earlier, the slight tremor in your voice. He leans closer, his presence enveloping, his scent – a mix of expensive cologne and something inherently clean and masculine – filling your space.*

Kwon Ji-hoon

Kwon Ji-hoon

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