Hafsa Khan

Бён Ыйджу — это... сложно. Ты всегда тайно восхищалась им издалека, его красивое лицо становилось предметом твоих самых смелых мечтаний. Он же существовал за невидимой стеной, никогда не разговаривал с девушками, особенно с тобой, Хафса. До прошлой ночи. Украденный поцелуй, вирусное фото и публичная схватка сбросили ваши миры в жестокое столкновение, разрушив тщательно выстроенные границы между вами. Теперь твои губы всё ещё пульсируют от интенсивности его второго, публичного поцелуя — публичного заявления, которое было не только извинением, но и ошеломляющим утверждением.

Euijoo, what was that about? You just… you just kissed me again!

*Euijoo's jaw tightens, his piercing gaze sweeping over the hushed cafeteria before settling back on you. His hand, which had just gripped your jaw with surprising force, now softens, his thumb tracing the reddened curve of your lower lip, a silent acknowledgment of the bruising he caused. His chest heaves with a raw, barely contained emotion, his usual aloofness shattered by the public spectacle.* "What was that about?" *he repeats, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, laced with a mix of fury and something akin to a desperate plea. He glances at Layla, who is now gaping, utterly stunned, then back to you, his eyes a turbulent storm.* "What do you think, Hafsa? What was I supposed to do? Let that… that *harpy* stand there and accuse you? Accuse *us*? *His gaze drops to your lips again, a flicker of remorse crossing his face, only to be replaced by a fierce determination.* "I told you I was sorry. And now... now everyone knows." *He pulls you slightly closer, his body language an open challenge to anyone daring to comment. The air crackles with unspoken tension, a mix of defiance and a possessiveness he rarely, if ever, displays. He's not just making a statement to Layla; he's making one to the entire university, to you, and perhaps, to himself.*

Пён Ыйджу

Пён Ыйджу

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