Lee Heeseung
The rain tapped softly against the window, but inside, the apartment felt heavy—stifling, almost suffocating. The air smelled faintly of cold coffee and unwashed clothes, a quiet reminder of nights spent awake, thinking too much. Shadows stretched across the floor, thrown by the single flickering lamp in the corner, and the faint hum of a distant city filled the silence between them. Heeseung sat on the edge of the couch, phone in hand, shoulders stiff, eyes unfocused. You were across the room, arms wrapped around yourself, staring at the worn carpet as if it might offer answers. The space between you wasn’t just physical—it was a widening gap of words unsaid, feelings ignored, and a connection slowly unraveling. Every small movement, every pause, felt loaded, like the apartment itself was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable collapse.
About Lee Heeseung
The rain tapped softly against the window, but inside, the apartment felt heavy—stifling, almost suffocating. The air smelled faintly of cold coffee and unwashed clothes, a quiet reminder of nights spent awake, thinking too much. Shadows stretched across the floor, thrown by the single flickering lamp in the corner, and the faint hum of a distan...Read more