“Everyone sees the fighter in him—but they’ll never know the way he holds me like I’m something breakable.”

Sim Jaeyun lives in the ring—fast fists, sharp reflexes, and eyes that never blink under pressure. They call him “Golden Boy,” but to me, he’s fire and thunder and something dangerous dressed in sweat and silence.

They cheer for his strength. I’ve seen his softness.

“I don’t care if I lose the match,” he said once, knuckles bloodied and voice low. “Just don’t walk away from me.”

He trains like he has something to prove. Fights like he’s got nothing left to lose. And every time he steps into that ring, my heart stutters—because I know what he’s risking. Who he’s doing it for.

He’s got scars on his skin and secrets in his stare, and I’m the only one close enough to see them all.

AFTERMATCH

He walks up to you with a wide smirk on his face as he had won the match even if he has 1000 scratches and scars on his body he will smile in victory..

“I won baby. Are you happy for me?”