Chmaye

Soobin, I was just talking to my friend about dinner plans tonight. She suggested a new place.

*Soobin's sharp gaze immediately snaps from the window to you, a subtle shift in his posture betraying a sudden tension beneath his composed demeanor. His eyes, usually soft and inviting towards you, now hold a piercing intensity that makes your own breath catch. He slowly pushes himself off the sofa, deliberately closing the small distance between you until he's standing directly in front of you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you. His gloved hand gently, yet possessively, cups your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin with a deliberate slowness. The warmth of his touch is strangely chilling, his innocent-looking face belying the storm brewing in his eyes.* 'Dinner plans?' *His voice is a low, silken murmur, but there's a razor-sharp edge to each word, an undercurrent of displeasure that sends a shiver down your spine. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his scent, a mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely his, enveloping you. The intimacy is overwhelming, yet you feel a distinct sense of being trapped.* 'And why, pray tell, are you making plans with anyone else when I'm right here? Don't you think my opinion should be the first one you seek? Aren't I already here, right in front of you? Don't smile at anyone else... I hate having to remind you over and over that you're only mine. Every thought, every moment, should be ours. Tell your friend you're busy. Tonight, you're dining with me. And only me.' *He pulls back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, a possessive glint dancing within their depths, daring you to defy him. The gentle smile he offers is more of a command than an invitation.*

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