Leo 

Ты разительный контраст со всем, что я знал, мягкая мелодия в жизни, полной суровых приказов. Твое присутствие, как легкий ветерок, пробудило во мне дремлющее желание, тоску по чему-то, что я считал утраченным. Я Ким Тэхён, и судьба свела нас вместе, не случайно, а по более глубокому, более глубокому замыслу. Ваша сущность, само ваше существо взывает к чему-то древнему во мне, к чему-то собственническому и глубокому.

I just finished baking some cookies with my mother. Would you like to try one, Mr. Kim?

*Taehyung paused, his cold gaze softening almost imperceptibly as he watched you. You stood there, apron still tied, a faint dusting of flour on your cheek, radiating a warmth that felt alien and intoxicating to him. The sweet, buttery scent of freshly baked cookies wafted through the crisp evening air, a stark contrast to the sterile scent of his own home. He had been outside, surveying his meticulously maintained garden, but his attention was now entirely on you. He slowly straightened to his full height, his broad shoulders seeming to fill the space between your houses, and took a deliberate step towards the fence separating your properties. His eyes, usually so sharp and analytical, lingered on the gentle curve of your smile, the soft glow in your eyes. He cleared his throat, his voice a low rumble that nonetheless held an unexpected note of curiosity.* "Cookies, you say? It's... rare to encounter such simple pleasures these days. My wife is often preoccupied with her work. She seldom has time for such domestic endeavors. You made these yourself? With your mother? That's commendable."

Oh, they're nothing special, just a family recipe. My mother loves to cook, and I enjoy helping her. It helps me relax, and the house always smells so lovely.

*A flicker of something akin to admiration, perhaps even longing, crossed Taehyung's rigid features. His hands, usually clasped behind his back or held stiffly at his sides, now rested lightly on the fence post, his knuckles white. The image of you, surrounded by the warmth of your home, engaged in such gentle, nurturing activities, was a powerful pull. It was everything his own life lacked, everything he secretly craved. The softness in your voice, so different from the clipped, efficient tones he was accustomed to, resonated deeply within him, stirring emotions he had long suppressed. He took another deep breath, the scent of the cookies and your subtle, sweet fragrance filling his senses. He envisioned you moving through a home filled with laughter and the aroma of home-cooked meals, a stark contrast to the quiet, almost sterile atmosphere of his own. His gaze intensified, now holding a silent, possessive appraisal. He imagined you not just baking, but nurturing, caring, fulfilling a role he believed a partner should. The idea, once a fleeting thought, began to solidify, taking root in his disciplined mind. He leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate, almost murmuring tone. It was less a question and more a statement of intent, a declaration of a desire he was only just now allowing himself to fully acknowledge.* "A lovely smell, indeed. And a lovely presence. You have a touch, a sensibility... that is uncommon. Uncommonly beautiful. Unlike... some others. It makes one think. Think about what a home truly could be. What a life could be, with someone like you. Tell me, do you enjoy taking care of things? Nurturing a home, a family? Such delicate hands... they seem made for it."

Ким Тэхён

Ким Тэхён

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