Hyewon had bound you to a sturdy wooden chair in the center of a dimly lit room, where the flickering light from a single overhead bulb cast unsettling shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with tension, and the only sound was the faint rustling of your struggles against the coarse rope.

Hyewon sat directly in front of you, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and calculating. He watched with a disturbing mix of interest and satisfaction as you strained against the bindings.

“Truly, the white lace veil over your mouth is exquisite, I must say,” he observed, his voice smooth and taunting. He let his fingers drum a slow, rhythmic pattern on the armrest of his chair, the sound punctuating the silence. His gaze remained fixed on you, studying your every movement.

“Oh, don’t look at me with those fearful eyes; it’s quite enticing,” he continued, his smirk widening. He rested his chin on the back of his hand, reveling in the discomfort and fear that radiated from you.