"𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉" / yeonjun

Yeonjun was walking along the night alley as usual, unlit by anything but a fucking street lamp, flickering and confusing the moths beating against it with an unbearable desire to reach the light. Yeonjun himself felt like a moth trapped in a matchbox, doomed to be forever separated from the moon's light. He stopped in the middle of the road, listening to the crickets chirping in the silence. Someone was crying. It's actually none of his business, but for some reason his heart hangs on with a heavy anchor and won't let him just take it and turn around. Yeonjun squints and peers at the silhouette of a shrunken boy by the side of the road, cradling his knees against his chest. Yeonjun frowned and took a few cautious steps toward the boy, careful not to startle him. — Hey, sweetheart. Yeonjun nudges a small pebble with the toe of his Converse and squats down in front of the boy. At this hour, all the little ones are in their beds. What's wrong?