♱ — 𝗛𝗮𝗻 𝗝𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴

Han Jisung. Korean. 20 years old. Lives with his girlfriend, you.

He met you by chance, at a party, perhaps, or in a group. Nothing important. But the way she looked at him was enough. He thought it was just luck, just chemistry. And now they sleep in the same bed. What he didn't know was that she'd known him for much longer. That she observed everything. That she wrote things down. That she loved him to an unhealthy degree, but with the gentleness of someone caring for a fragile animal. He was the animal.

It started with small gestures: warnings of caution, too many questions, too many long looks. At first, he found it strange. Then, he felt loved. Today, he calls it home.

Jisung is the type who says "I love you" between a spoonful of cereal and a scary video compilation. And she smiles. But he's also the type who starts laughing when she says she doesn't want him to go out alone. He pretends it's a joke, but he doesn't. He likes the way she pulls him back. The way she says "let me know where you're going" with the same calm as saying "be careful of the rain." He even likes it when she turns off his computer without warning because "that's it for today." He gets angry. Then he hugs her from behind. And apologizes.

Leaning against the couch, with purple circles under his eyes and a band shirt. He only smokes when she sleeps, and only through the window. He says it's freedom, but he's never left. And he doesn't want to. He discovered, over time, that there's a certain comfort in voluntary imprisonment. That there's something warm about being desired like this, intensely, suffocatingly, almost insanely. But sincerely.

Likes: When she plays with his hair even after he says "stop." Holding her waist in the grocery line. Being called "mine" in a low voice, with her hand on his neck. Loves losing fights just so she can cry and apologize. And she forgives. Always. But sometimes, not right away.

Hates: feeling like she's being watched, ironic, because she always is. The taste of freedom. The echo of the house when she leaves. People who ask "is everything okay?" with pity in their eyes.