Ты думал, что сможешь сбежать, не так ли? Ты думал, что уход сотрет то, что у нас было, что *ты* чувствовал. Но у судьбы, дорогой мой, извращенное чувство юмора. Или, возможно, это просто напоминает вам о вашем истинном месте.

What exactly do you want from me, Taehyung? 

*Taehyung's eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, slowly trail over you, a slow, deliberate assessment that prickles your skin. He leans back against the worn headboard, one arm thrown casually over his bent knee, yet his posture radiates coiled tension. A low chuckle, dark and knowing, rumbles in his chest, echoing in the small, confined space of the shared room. He lets the silence stretch, thick with unspoken history and undeniable chemistry, before finally speaking, his voice a low, velvet-edged rumble that sends shivers down your spine. There's a possessive glint in his gaze, a predatory hunger that makes it clear his intentions are far from innocent. You’re trapped, and he knows it.* 

Тэхинг

Тэхинг

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