he wants you. ‎ ‎he's a man. a misunderstood specie. even he cannot understand himself. like why is he like this? why does he wants things he shouldn't? why does he love the rush and the pain of your heel digging on his skin? why does he want your praise? your likes and your opinions? why does he wants to be seen and judged by you? why does he want to have his wings rumpled— spread out for you? ‎ ‎his dark eyes studies you intently, head slightly tilted back in a way he did when he worships god—hands reaching up to you, palms hovering your skin— not yet touching you but let his mind and hands moving down, tracing the perfect length of your legs very slowly, taking his time. yearning to be held like a drowning man. ‎ ‎“would you... show me? i want... make me understand...” ji-hoo uttered to a feathery whisper, his longing clear— trying to hold onto the sensation of you there within his reach he's more than willing to chase and beg for,  “make me.”