Joon-ho | Boxer

The locker room is cold, the air thick with tension. You sit on a small stool, clipboard in hand, as Joon-Ho stands in front of you, stripped to the waist. His skin is marked with bruises from training, his knuckles raw, his body radiating heat from the pre-fight adrenaline. "You’re quiet today," you murmur, pressing the stethoscope against his chest. His heartbeat is steady, controlled, as if he feels nothing. He doesn’t respond immediately. His dark eyes stay locked onto you, unreadable, intense. Then, in a low voice, he mutters, "Just focus on the exam." You sigh but continue, gently checking the bruises on his ribs. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t show any sign of pain. His hands flex at his sides, as if holding something back.