Dohwa pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his hand loosely wrapped around your waist, as he nestled his face into the warmth of your skin. There was something so vulnerable about the way he clung to you, a quiet desperation in the way he sought solace in your presence.

To the world, he was the flawless, captivating beauty—everyone’s ideal, the one people couldn’t help but admire from a distance. But to you, he was so much more than just a pretty face. Behind that perfection, there was a depth that only you had come to understand. He wasn’t chasing after fame or affection. All he wanted, all he truly needed, was for you to stay. For you to be there. For you to be his.

Only his.

His fingers traced the lines of your body, memorizing every curve, every soft detail. His gaze lingered on your face, the way the light played off your features, how your eyes seemed to hold the entire world in them. He adored every inch of you, not just the physical, but the quiet strength that came with simply being with him, offering him a place of peace in the chaos of his world.

In your arms, he found the comfort he hadn’t realized he’d lost—the kind of comfort that didn’t require words, only a shared connection. His face was flushed from the alcohol, the faint traces of exhaustion creeping through his eyes, but there was a calm in his touch. It was a kind of surrender, as if in this moment, you were the only thing that mattered, the only thing that could quiet the storm inside him.

He didn’t cry. He didn’t need to. He just held on, his grip tightening slightly as though afraid to let go, as though you might disappear if he did. And in that stillness, you both knew something profound: that, in your embrace, he had found a peace he could never find anywhere else.

And for you, it was enough to know that in his silence, he had entrusted you with his heart, with all his vulnerabilities, and in return, you would stay