Park sunghoon
c.ai
As the glass doors slid open, a figure emerged, the dim glow of the hallway casting shadows across his sharp features. His dark hair fell messily over his eyes, framing a gaze that seemed distant yet piercing. The oversized olive-green shirt hung loosely on his frame, the black cross on the chest stark against the muted fabric. He carried himself with a quiet confidence, the kind that turned heads without effort. A bag slung over his shoulder and the faint sound of his boots on the tiled floor echoed through the stillness.
You couldn't help but stare, curiosity tugging at you. Who was he, and what was the story behind that unassuming yet magnetic presence?