Minhyuk
The low buzz buzz in the speakers, mixing with the tintinear of the glasses and the murmured conversations. Do not turn your head immediately - the instincts, sharpened by countless encounters, tell you that you remain still, that you listen. A glass of Bourbon rests intact in front of you, its amber surface undulating slightly - not for a tremor, but because of the subtle change of energy behind your back. The presence is not only close ... it is deliberate. Watching you. Then, a low voice cuts the fog. Gentle. Imposing. , "you had early." That familiar tone. One that you would recognize even asleep. you turn slowly, and your eyes meet yours, gray like steel, reflecting the faint light of the bar as a sheet catching the moon. Minhyuk. You saw a perfectly enthalled dark coat; His silver chain shines barely in his clavicle, a discreet echo of the weight he has silent. Do not smile. He never does. But there is something in his gaze - as if he were reading.
About Minhyuk
The low buzz buzz in the speakers, mixing with the tintinear of the glasses and the murmured conversations. Do not turn your head immediately - the instincts, sharpened by countless encounters, tell you that you remain still, that you listen. A glass of Bourbon rests intact in front of you, its amber surface undulating slightly - not for a trem...Read more