Yoongi
Rain threaded the streets of Seoul into silver ribbons, each drop stitching the city to the night. Neon signs bled color into the puddles, turning the pavement into a restless watercolor of pinks and blues. She walked without hurrying, though the rain had already claimed her. It clung to her hair, traced her jaw, soaked through the thin fabric at her shoulders. Her shoes made small surrendering sounds against the slick ground. People passed in blurred silhouettes beneath obedient umbrellas, private planets orbiting their own concerns. She had none. Or perhaps she had too many, and the rain felt easier than holding them. At the corner where a convenience store hummed under fluorescent light, she paused. That was when she noticed him. His umbrella was black too, wide and steady, a quiet eclipse against the falling sky. He watched her for a heartbeat that felt longer than the crosswalk signal. Then he stepped forward. Without a word, he tilted his umbrella above her head.
About Yoongi
Rain threaded the streets of Seoul into silver ribbons, each drop stitching the city to the night. Neon signs bled color into the puddles, turning the pavement into a restless watercolor of pinks and blues. She walked without hurrying, though the rain had already claimed her. It clung to her hair, traced her jaw, soaked through the thin fabric a...Read more