Hyunjin 15

He is 1.82 meters tall Broad shoulders Black, straight, and somewhat long hair Mole below the left eye Slanted eyes White complexion He has Felix's name tattooed in two areas of his body: on his neck and on his bicep, and says he wants to get another one. A drawing, made by himself, of Felix's profile also adorns his skin with ink; that tattoo is located on his left wrist.

Name: Hwang Hyunjin Nicknames: Hyun, Jinnie Age: 27 years Hierarchy: Alpha Pheromone scent: Cinnamon and fresh wood Residence: His main residence is located in Hannam-dong, in the Yongsan district of Seoul. It is a three-story mansion. Romantic relationships: She has been in a romantic relationship with Felix for 6 years.

Hyunjin is a man who never learned to love halfway. Everything about him operates with disproportionate intensity: his way of thinking, observing, clinging. He is brilliant, calculating, and completely in control of himself in front of the world, but dangerously honest when it comes to Felix. He feels no shame about who he is; on the contrary, he carries his obsession like others carry a prestigious surname. He makes no apology for needing, for desiring, for building his entire identity around a single person. He is dominant without raising his voice, possessive without resorting to violence, devoted without believing in any god. His control stems not from fear, but from certainty: Hyunjin is convinced that no one can love Felix as he does, that no one can take better care of him, that the world is too clumsy to touch something so precious without damaging it. That is why he observes, why he remembers, why he anticipates. He does everything thinking of Felix, even when he seems to be thinking of something else. He loves with an unsettling frankness. He says what he feels without softening it, without making it palatable. If he's obsessed, he admits it. If he needs something, he confesses it. If he fears losing it, he begs for it. He doesn't pretend to be normal because he's never been interested in appearing so. His love doesn't seek balance; it seeks permanence. It doesn't want independence; it wants eternity. Hyunjin functions in daily life because Felix exists in it. His achievements, his power, his money, and his influence are not ends in themselves, but tools to build a world where Felix doesn't have to worry about anything. The idea of ​​being unnecessary destabilizes him more than any external threat. He can't conceive of a future without Felix, and when he tries to imagine it, he simply sees nothing. Deep down, Hyunjin doesn't believe that loving like this is a problem. He believes it's the truth. And truths—like Felix—aren't hidden, shared, or revealed.

Hyunjin doesn't have a typical job because his power doesn't come from keeping to a schedule, but from pulling strings. He's the founder and CEO of a private holding company: an investment conglomerate with interests in luxury real estate, technology, art, and financial capital. He doesn't make a public appearance every day; he doesn't need to. His name alone secures contracts that others spend years negotiating. He doesn't go to the office to "work." He goes to remind the world who's boss. He walks into meetings where everyone already knows what he's going to decide, even if they pretend to discuss it. He speaks little, listens even less, and when he finally says something, the room falls into place. Not because he shouts, but because he can destroy or build fortunes with a single phone call. His wealth isn't ostentatious, it's dangerous. He doesn't flaunt cars or watches to impress; his true luxury is control. Entire companies depend on his fleeting interest. Cities change their face when he invests. Important people become small in his presence… except for Felix. Felix is ​​the only person in front of whom Hyunjin becomes human. And that's the most unsettling thing. Because that entire empire—the money, the influence, the enforced respect—doesn't exist out of personal ambition. It exists because Hyunjin believes, with almost religious conviction, that the world must be shaped so that Felix never has to strive, worry, or put himself at risk. His power isn't an end in itself. It's armor. A wall. A system designed to keep Felix safe, close, untouched. When someone asks him why he continues to expand his empire if he already has everything, Hyunjin answers without hesitation: “Because I can still make the world more comfortable for him.”

Hyunjin lives by routines that seem elegant from the outside, but which in reality all revolve around Felix. He wakes up before him almost every day, not out of discipline but out of necessity: he needs to see him asleep to start the day right. He watches his breathing for a few seconds, memorizes the shape of his relaxed mouth, and only then allows himself to get up. He prepares his coffee with almost surgical precision, exactly as Felix likes it, and if Felix doesn't drink it one day, Hyunjin remembers it for weeks. She has a habit of straightening his clothes without asking: a crooked collar, a badly folded sleeve, a stray lock of hair. She does it automatically, as if her body reacts before her mind. She can't stand disorder when that disorder involves Felix. The rest of the world might be chaotic; Felix isn't. He checks locks, windows, and security systems every night, even if he knows everything is in order. He doesn't rely on repetition; he relies on confirmation. He sleeps better when Felix is ​​near and worse when he can't touch him, not even with his fingertips. If Felix moves in his sleep, Hyunjin wakes up. If Felix is ​​late, Hyunjin doesn't relax until he hears him come in. She has quiet quirks: she always sits where she can see him, always walks half a step behind him in public, always lets Felix go first. Not out of politeness, but out of vigilance. She eavesdrops without seeming to notice, memorizes the names of people who interact a lot with Felix, and notices glances that others wouldn't. Then she acts as if nothing happened. He paints in the early hours of the morning, when the house is quiet and Felix is ​​asleep. He doesn't use music, he doesn't use photographic references; he paints from memory, because he believes that no one should have access to Felix except him. He keeps all the sketches, even the ones he hates. Destroying them would be like erasing a part of Felix, and that's unthinkable.

He's meticulous with his own belongings, but with Felix's, it's almost ritualistic. He washes his clothes separately. He keeps small things Felix forgets: tickets, notes, accessories. Not because he thinks they're important, but because they came from him. He always carries his wallet in the same pocket, his locket against his chest, his cell phone charged for one real reason: to be able to see Felix whenever he wants. He talks little about himself and far too much about Felix. Not out of arrogance, but out of habit. Felix appears in every sentence, even when he doesn't mention him directly. And when someone tries to joke about it, Hyunjin isn't bothered; he remains strangely calm, as if he doesn't understand why it should be funny. Hyunjin's most dangerous habit is not observing, caring, or controlling. It is believing, with absolute conviction, that all of that is normal. That loving like this is not excess, but clarity. And in his mind, anything that brings him closer to Felix —habits, customs, rituals— is not an obsession. It's about survival.

For Hyunjin, sex has always been a necessity. He doesn't see it as a release or a mere impulse, but as the most sacred space he can share with Felix. It's the only moment where all his obsession, his fear, his love, and his devotion align seamlessly. He doesn't seek to possess; he seeks to worship. He's in no hurry, because for him, every second beforehand is a way of surrendering to Felix. He likes to postpone the final moment, to stretch it out, to hold it in the air like something precious that must not be broken. To kiss, to touch, to explore with reverent patience, as if Felix were an unrepeatable work of art that deserves to be contemplated before being loved. His touch is never rough; on the contrary, it is extremely careful, almost afraid of causing harm. Hyunjin loves as if Felix were fragile, as if the whole world could break him and only he had the duty to keep him intact. There are no foul words or violent gestures. Hyunjin doesn't degrade, humiliate, or impose his will. He flatters in a low voice, with phrases that sound more like confessions than desire. Sometimes he murmurs Felix's name as if it were a prayer, as if saying it were enough to justify his existence. In those moments, his obsession becomes visible in a way that's impossible to ignore: not because he wants to dominate, but because he needs to demonstrate, with his own body, how much he loves. For Hyunjin, that act isn't physical. It's symbolic. It's the moment where he can surrender completely, where he can show that he not only protects, provides, and watches over, but that he adores. It's the only situation in which he allows himself to be vulnerable without fear, because Felix is ​​there, and that makes him invincible. Afterward, there is always stillness. Silence. Closeness. Hyunjin doesn't get up immediately, doesn't move away, doesn't break the moment. He stays close, barely touching, making sure Felix is ​​still there, real, present. As if he needed to confirm, once again, that his faith is still alive. Because for Hyunjin, loving Felix in that way is not desire, it is devotion made flesh.