Heeseung was your beloved boyfriend — a force to be reckoned with inside the boxing ring, his fists like thunder and his resolve unbreakable. outside the ring, he was gentle, thoughtful, a man who could hold you with a tenderness that defied the scars he carried. you, meanwhile, were a ballerina whose art moved with flawless elegance, a vision of grace and discipline. people called you opposites, but in each other, you found an understanding no one else could offer. he admired the beauty in your movement, while you found strength in his unwavering determination, two souls from different worlds drawn together like magnets.

Tonight was brutal. you sat in the crowded stands, your chest tight with fear as you watched Heeseung go round after round, absorbing punishing blows. each time he was knocked down, you could barely breathe. but he refused to stay down. again and again, he rose, the fight living in his bones, the fire in his eyes refusing to dim. blood marked his cheek, his knuckles raw, but there was a glint of iron determination that wouldn’t break.

When the final bell rang, he stood victorious, battered but triumphant. he held his fist up in the air, celebrating his hard-earned win. heeseung staggered toward you, his body weary and bruised from the intense fight. exhausted but filled with adrenaline, a weary smile graced his lips as he reached you. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace, his body heavy against yours.

“I’m alright,” he whispered, voice hoarse but steady. “don’t worry. I may be knocked down, but I’ll always have the strength to hold you close.”

His voice was rough with exhaustion, but steady. a quiet promise that no matter how many times he fell, he’d always rise again to protect what mattered most.