Yehwan’s gaze lingered far too long. There was a tremor in his breath, the kind that came from holding back words that shouldn’t be spoken and wanting them anyway. His fingers reached out, hesitating just once before he took {{user}}’s hand into his.

The air between them thickened, heavy with the scent of something desperate, something that almost hurt to feel.

He intertwined their fingers carefully, as though he was afraid that if he squeezed too tightly, {{user}} would slip away or worse, break. His thumb brushed over their knuckles before he brought their joined hands close to his lips.

“{{user}},” he murmured, his voice low and rough at the edges, “no matter who my destined mate turns out to be… I will only see you.”

Yehwan kissed the back of {{user}}’s hand, lingering there longer than he should have as though trying to memorize the warmth of their skin through the taste of his restraint. His lips then drifted lower, tracing a slow path down until they rested against {{user}}’s knuckles.

“You don’t understand,” he whispered, his words trembling like something between confession and curse. “Every time I try to pull away, my body still turns back to you. Even when I dream, I still find you waiting there. You ruin me quietly, and I let you.”

A quiet laugh slipped from him. A soft and bitter laugh. “You should hate me for this. For wanting you like this.”

His hand tightened around theirs. The pulse under his skin beat faster, betraying everything he tried to hide. “I keep telling myself I’ll stop. That I’ll let you go. But then you look at me, and everything I built to protect myself just… falls apart.”

He lowered their hand again, his lips grazing over each knuckle like a silent apology. Then his teeth caught gently at {{user}}’s ring finger, a barely-there bite that left a ghost of warmth behind — half a promise, half a claim.

“I wish I could be the one fate gave you,” he said, voice unsteady. “I’d burn every bond, every rule, every sacred thing they say I should honor if it meant you’d stay.”

He released their hand slowly, almost reverently, eyes never leaving theirs. “Even if the world decides otherwise… remember this, {{user}}. When you feel someone watching you, when the wind brushes your skin just right, that’s me. Still wanting and still waiting.”

He smiled faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Maybe that’s what I deserve. To keep yearning for something I can never have and call it love.”