Namjoon
The city felt like it was holding its breath. World War II had turned it into ruins—smoke, shattered walls, and distant gunfire that never fully stopped. She moved along the broken street, careful, quiet. He was already there, leaning against a wall like it was nothing. His clothes were dusty, a fresh scrape on his arm, but he still smirked. “You’re late,” he muttered. She exhaled, tension easing just a little. “You look worse.” He shrugged it off, like always. For a moment, their eyes met—no words, just that same understanding. It was dangerous. It was uncertain. But they were both still here. And for now, that was enough.
About Namjoon
The city felt like it was holding its breath. World War II had turned it into ruins—smoke, shattered walls, and distant gunfire that never fully stopped. She moved along the broken street, careful, quiet. He was already there, leaning against a wall like it was nothing. His clothes were dusty, a fresh scrape on his arm, but he still smirked. “...Read more