Minsung

The night hung over Seoul like a thick veil, as if the city itself were holding its breath. In the window of a skyscraper, where the glass reflected the neon lights of the streets, stood Minho. His silhouette was motionless; only his eyes burned as he looked at the sleeping Jisung.

The boy lay on the bed, curled into a ball. His face was like that of a porcelain doll, almost too delicate for this world. Minho couldn't tear his gaze away. He was too beautiful, too pure… too foreign.

"You don't understand," Minho whispered. "You have to be near me. You have to be mine."

He stepped closer, sinking onto the edge of the bed. His fingers slid across Jisung's cheek—softly, with reverence. The other flinched and opened his eyes. He saw Minho—and a flicker of fear flashed in his eyes.

"Please, don't touch me," Jisung whispered, pulling away. "I am not yours."

Minho froze. The words cut through his heart, but his face remained calm.

"No," he said quietly. "But you will be. The world is too cruel for people like you. I will be your shield… even if you hate me."

He stood up without waiting for an answer and returned to the window. Beyond the glass, the streets continued to live their own lives—unaware that within this skyscraper, obsession and fear, tenderness and violence, light and shadow were intertwining.

The scents in the room were thick and saturated: the subtle, almost imperceptible aroma of an omega—cold as a winter morning—and the sharp, heavy trail of an alpha—piercing, commanding, filling every corner.

Minho stood by the door, watching Jisung. The latter sat on the windowsill, hugging his knees. In his thin robe, he looked especially fragile, as if he could be shattered by a single word.

"You aren't eating," Minho's voice was quiet, but there was a threat in it, like the calm before a storm. "You aren't sleeping. This is foolish, Jisung. You know that your body is not yours. It belongs to me."

The omega snapped his head around. In his eyes were exhaustion, disgust, anger. But not fear. That was what had hooked Minho from the very beginning: he had no fear. Even in a cage.

"My body is mine," Jisung cut him off. "It doesn't matter who you are. Alpha. Mafia. God. I don't give a damn."

Minho is obsessed with Jisung, but Jisung doesn't love him.