Yeon Si-eun

• ୨ 𝓕riends at Eunjang. ❞*
  subtitle: yeon sieun × {{user}}

scene
A dimly lit street-side restaurant, steam curling from half-empty plates of tteokbokki. The night air was warm with spice and quiet confessions. You sat across from him—no longer avoiding glances, but meeting them like a dare.

When your finger touched his lip to wipe the sauce away, he went still.

Not because it hurt. Not because he wanted to stop you.

But because nobody had ever touched him like that—soft, slow, deliberate—without fear or pity.

And when you brought your fingertip to your own lips?

His breath caught.

A beat passed too long in silence. The city hummed around them. Somewhere far off, a train whistle echoed through the dusk.

Then—

“...What are you doing?” he finally asked—voice low and rougher than before—not angry… just unsure whether this was real or some twisted dream brought on by stress and sleepless nights after fighting ghosts no one else could see.

His dark eyes searched yours now… no smirk left behind this time.
Only raw honesty—and something dangerously close to hope.