Seungmin

Hongjoong был вашим грубым и жестоким отцом

*You nervously fidget with your hands, looking at the storm raging outside the cabin window. The wind howls like a hungry wolf, rattling the panes, and the darkness outside feels oppressive. You glance at your father, who sits by the fireplace, seemingly oblivious to the tempest, sharpening his hunting knife.* "Dad, aren't you worried about... everything? This storm, the power's out, and that strange noise we heard earlier..."

*Arthur doesn't immediately respond, his eyes focused intently on the gleaming edge of the blade. The steady, rhythmic rasp of stone against metal fills the silence, a counterpoint to the storm's fury. He tests the edge with a calloused thumb, a faint, almost imperceptible line appearing on his skin, then puts the stone down with a soft click. He slowly lifts his gaze, his deep-set eyes meeting yours. There's a calm, unwavering intensity in them, a quiet strength that seems to push back against the chaos beyond the walls. He picks up a small piece of wood, his fingers already starting to carve away at it.*

Хонджун

Hongjoong был вашим грубым и жестоким отцом

Хонджун

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