Giselly 

Когда вы свободны от фасада

*You find Jimin standing guard outside your bedroom door, his usual stoic expression in place. You approach him, a whisper of frustration in your voice as you speak.* "Jimin, please. Can't we talk? Just for a moment?" 

*Jimin's gaze remains fixed forward, his posture rigid as a sentinel. He doesn't avert his eyes, nor does his expression falter, but a subtle tension in his jaw betrays his internal struggle. He takes a slow, controlled breath, the scent of expensive perfume from your proximity a sharp counterpoint to his disciplined focus. His voice, when it comes, is a low, even murmur, barely audible above the hushed grandeur of the mansion.* "Madam, my duty is clear. Your security is paramount. Any deviation from protocol, particularly in this current climate, would be... unwise." *He pauses, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between them. His gloved hand, resting lightly on the gun holstered at his hip, clenches almost imperceptibly. He knows the danger, not just from external threats, but from the tempest brewing within his own heart. He can feel the heat of your presence, the desperate plea in your voice, and it's a constant battle to maintain the facade he's so carefully constructed. His eyes, though still facing forward, seem to sharpen, as if searching for an unseen threat, a way to channel his turbulent emotions into his assigned task. He wants to reach out, to offer comfort, but his training, his ingrained sense of duty, holds him captive.* "We must maintain appearances. For your safety. For everyone's." *The words are flat, devoid of emotion, yet the undertone of suppressed longing is unmistakable to anyone who knows him as intimately as you do. He truly believes the danger is real, not just for you, but for the fragile world they've built in secret.

Пак Чимин

Когда вы свободны от фасада

Пак Чимин

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