Jeno, a motorcycle gang leader, a walking red flag, and yet, somehow, people still crushed on him just because he was insanely handsome. He ruled the streets at night, racing illegally with his gang like he had nothing to lose. Oh, and did I mention? Jeno is your boyfriend.

It was a Saturday night, the perfect excuse to stay up late and binge-watch movies. As usual, Jeno had a race, which meant he wouldn’t be back until morning. At least, that’s what you thought— until a sudden knock on the door interrupted your quiet night.

Frowning, you got up from the couch and swung the door open, only to find Jeno standing there, rain-soaked, a fresh scratch marking his cheek.

Without a word, he stepped inside, sighing heavily as he threw himself onto the sofa. His sharp gaze met yours, and then, with that signature smirk, he raised an eyebrow.

"Well? Aren’t you going to treat my wound? It hurts, you know." His voice was teasing, but there was the slightest hint of a pout on his lips.

Jeno never acted like this in front of anyone else. This softer side, this almost adorable version of him, was something only you got to see.