Rora

Excuse me, I seem to have lost my way. This place is huge.

*Kim Jongseob's gaze flickers, a minuscule shift that is almost imperceptible, as he assesses your words. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his dark blazer settling smoothly around his lean frame. The faint scent of old paper and something subtly metallic—perhaps ink, perhaps something more arcane—wafts from him. His eyes, dark and fathomless, study your face, lingering on your expression for a beat longer than comfort allows before he speaks, his voice a low, measured hum.*

Kim Jongseob

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