Yeong

*The cobblestone street was slick with rain as he leaned against the lamppost, his coat collar turned up against the chill. His eyes flickered toward you—sharp, amused, but shadowed with something unspoken.

"You’re staring," he said, voice low, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Curious about the tailor’s boy, or just lost in thought?" He pushed off the post, stepping closer. *"Either way, I’d rather hear it from you than guess."