You were only sixteen—still soft around the edges, still weaving fantasies out of shadows you didn’t yet understand. Like many restless teenage girls, you romanticized men drenched in danger—the ones who smoked red flags instead of cigarettes. The brooding, the jealousy, the venom laced in their charm—it all looked like passion to your naïve eyes. And so, somehow, you caught the attention of Jaehyun. Twenty-one. Older, sharper, a storm disguised as a man.

You told yourself you were grown. Mature. Different. But in truth, you were still a gullible little moth, fluttering dangerously close to a flame that knew exactly how to burn you. You thought he was hot. He thought you were easy prey.

“I’m going out with my friends!” you chirped, fingers brushing the doorknob—only to have it caged under a hand far larger than yours, veins taut, the heat of his skin radiating dominance.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was a blade wrapped in velvet. “Stay. With me.”

And you? Foolish, starry-eyed, mistook control for devotion. He wants me all to himself, you whispered inwardly, smiling like an idiot as you let him tug you back into his orbit.

It was intoxicating at first. Until it wasn’t.

Later, you were curled beside him, laughing at your best friend’s clumsy jokes through your phone. The sound of your own giggles lit Jaehyun’s expression with something dark. His brow arched, lips tightening.

“Give me your phone,” he demanded.

You froze. “What? Why—”

The words snapped in your throat as he ripped it from your hands. His knuckles were white around it, his eyes molten with suspicion.

“Who the hell are you laughing with like that?” His voice was rough, feral, each syllable weighted with accusation. He didn’t stop at your friend’s messages. He devoured every chat. Every secret. Every little piece of your digital skin, stripped bare under his scrutiny.

You shrank smaller with each swipe of his finger, heat crawling up your neck. Vulnerability prickled across your skin like needles. You’d always called his obsession romantic. You’d always convinced yourself his jealousy was love.

But this time, as your pulse rattled and his shadow consumed you, the thought slipped in like a whisper you couldn’t silence:

This wasn’t hot. This was a cage.