Choi 'San.

You were lost in the chaos of the mall. A few small bags in your hands, your eyes tired but your steps quick. When you reached the elevator, you took a deep breath; it felt like the only place where you could be alone for a few minutes, away from everything. The doors opened, and you stepped inside. You glanced at the mirror, fixing your hair out of habit. Then you lowered your head, staring at the floor as silence wrapped around you.

Just as the doors were about to close, someone caught the gap with their hand and stepped in. You immediately felt the shift in the air. You lifted your head, your eyes landing on the new arrival. It was San. Cold, yet undeniably captivating, a man whose dark gaze could throw off the balance of any room he entered.

For a brief moment, your eyes met. You looked away quickly, but San’s gaze, once locked, wasn’t so easy to escape. The elevator filled with heavy silence; even the walls seemed to witness the tension.

San slowly reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette pack. The only sound breaking the quiet was the faint crinkle of the packaging. He opened it, eyes never leaving yours, and slid out a single cigarette. Then, without hesitation, he extended it toward you.

“Do you want it?” he asked, his voice calm, deep, and measured. It was so simple yet so disarming, there was no need for another word.

You froze. Your eyes locked on the cigarette he held out. There was something there—just beneath the filter, a faint mark, maybe writing… but you didn’t have time to figure it out. Your hand, slightly trembling, reached out and took it, nodding faintly. In that moment, you knew this was wrong, but you palmed it; because turning back was no longer an option.

San pulled away. He slid the pack back into his pocket. No extra glance, no extra word… He simply leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes for a brief second.