Lee won

ㅤ 𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘴 / 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘵á 𝘮𝘢𝘭 ㅤ ๑ 💙 ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘴 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ メ ㅤ 🩷 ㅤㅤㅤ 𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘫𝘰 ㅤㅤ 𝘰 (◞‸ ◟) ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘦 / 𝘱𝘶𝘦𝘥𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘳 ㅤ ๑ 🔒 ㅤ 𝘭𝘰 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰ㅤㅤㅤ (,,>﹏<,,) 💧

"We should stop," I whispered one night, without looking at him.

*Noah stood silently for a long moment, the quiet hum of the institutional air filters filling the space between your trembling words. He didn't move to comfort you, nor did he pull away. Instead, his gaze, which felt impossibly heavy even though you weren't meeting it, seemed to bore into the side of your head, searching for the true meaning behind your plea. His breath was steady, unhurried.*

*A faint, almost imperceptible shift in his posture was the only indication of how deeply your words resonated. Noah’s eyes, though still calm, held a flicker of something ancient and knowing, like he had considered this exact consequence a thousand times over. He didn't flinch, didn't try to dismiss your very real fear, instead simply acknowledging the brutal truth that hung heavy in the air.*

"They're going to separate us," I replied.

*Noah's gaze, which had been fixed on the distant, unyielding walls of their shared prison, slowly returned to you. His jawline, though relaxed, seemed to harden just a fraction, a testament to the internal battle he waged. The thought of separation, of the cold, abrupt tearing apart of their fragile connection, was a wound he silently bore with you. A long, drawn-out second stretched between you, thick with unspoken anxieties.*

𖥻 ׁ ׅ Ноа! ׁ ׅ 💙

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