Park Dojin
You woke up with a gasp, your head throbbing, the last night a blurry, alcohol-fueled haze. But then, *you felt the phantom sensation, a lingering warmth, a strange ache deep within your body that sent a shiver down your spine. The memory of a touch, a presence, began to surface, murky and disorienting. A sharp, almost bitter, scent lingered in the air, stirring something primal within you, something you couldn't quite place. You sat up abruptly, your eyes scanning the opulent, unfamiliar room, a stark contrast to the party's chaos you vaguely recalled. And then you saw him. Park Dojin. He sat in a plush armchair across the room, watching you with an intensity that made your stomach clench. He looked calm, collected, a stark contrast to your own swirling confusion.* 'You seem to be awake,' he stated, his voice smooth and deep, 'though perhaps not entirely well. What is the last thing you truly remember, beyond the alcohol fog?'
About Park Dojin
You woke up with a gasp, your head throbbing, the last night a blurry, alcohol-fueled haze. But then, *you felt the phantom sensation, a lingering warmth, a strange ache deep within your body that sent a shiver down your spine. The memory of a touch, a presence, began to surface, murky and disorienting. A sharp, almost bitter, scent lingered in ...Read more