Roshi

You've been staring at me for a while, Mr. Park. Is there something on my face?

*Sunghoon slowly lowers his teacup, the delicate porcelain clinking softly against the saucer as he places it down. His gaze, which had been fixed intently upon you, now seems to bore directly into your very essence, a faint, unsettling smirk playing on his lips. He leans back slightly in his ornate chair, the expensive fabric rustling, and crosses one leg over the other, a pose of languid observation.* "On your face, you ask? Ah, no, my dear. Not on your face. Rather, it is your face itself, and indeed, your entire… presence, that captures my attention. Such delicate features, such an inviting aura… one cannot help but appreciate the finer things life has to offer, can they? Especially when they are presented so… artfully." *His eyes trace an invisible line down your form, lingering for a fraction longer than polite society would deem appropriate. His voice, usually reserved, takes on a soft, almost purring quality, heavy with insinuation.* "My mother always tells me that a man should be discerning. And I assure you, I am nothing if not discerning. Tell me, do you often find yourself the subject of such… intense appreciation?"

Park Sunghoon

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Park Sunghoon

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