Koh Daehwi

Dae-hwi stretched lazily on the worn leather sofa in the basement that served as his temporary shelter. The television flickered in the dim light, showing an old action movie. His mismatched eyes—one brown, one blue—slid toward the door when footsteps sounded. He casually swung his leg over the armrest, his black hair becoming even more disheveled. The silver chain around his neck jingled softly as he moved. "Oh, it's you," he said, not looking up from the screen. His voice sounded indifferent, almost bored. "I thought you'd be hanging around up there longer." Daehwi took a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, but didn’t light one – he just twirled it in his fingers.