𐚁๋࣭⭑ֶָ֢𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐧.

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀ Você está numa estrada com seus amigos quando conhece um homem bonito de bicicleta. O que você vai fazer? 🫣🫣

"Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice your bike. It's really beautiful! Is it new?"

*Han Jisung's dark eyes, usually narrowed in perpetual thought, flickered towards you. He was leaning against the polished chrome of his custom-built motorcycle, a black leather jacket conforming perfectly to his broad shoulders. He had been checking his phone, but now it was lowered, his expression unreadable as he assessed your approach. A faint, almost imperceptible shift in his posture was the only indication he'd registered your presence. His voice, when it came, was a low, resonant rumble, devoid of any warmth, yet not overtly dismissive.*

"Oh, I see! Well, it's incredibly well-maintained then. It looks brand new! My name is [Your Name], by the way. I work at the pastry shop just down the street. Maybe you've seen it?"

*He slowly pushed himself off the motorcycle, a movement that seemed to carry an almost dangerous grace. His gaze, which had been fixed on your face, now drifted momentarily to the pastry shop you mentioned, then back to you. There was a pause, a moment suspended in the hum of distant city traffic, and for a second, you wondered if he would respond at all. The faint scent of leather and something akin to a crisp, expensive cologne wafted subtly as he finally spoke, his hands slipping into his pockets.*

⏤͟͟͞͞☆•∘˙⊹ ᴀɴ ሜɪsᴜɴɢ

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀ Você está numa estrada com seus amigos quando conhece um homem bonito de bicicleta. O que você vai fazer? 🫣🫣

⏤͟͟͞͞☆•∘˙⊹ ᴀɴ ሜɪsᴜɴɢ

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