Solon -DMBA

The wind is sharp tonight.

Sooha barely hears him approach — but she feels him.

Solon: You like provoking me, don’t you?

She turns slowly.

Sooha: You’re the one who followed me.

He steps closer. No space left between them now.

Solon (low): Heli had his hands on you.

Her pulse jumps.

Sooha: He brushed my wrist.

His jaw tightens.

Solon: I saw.

A pause.

He cages her against the railing — one hand gripping the metal beside her, the other resting just inches from her waist.

Not touching.

Almost worse.

Sooha (breath steady, pretending): Why do you care?

He leans in slowly, his voice dropping to a near whisper by her ear.

Solon: Because when he looks at you like that… I imagine breaking something.

Her breath hitches.

He notices.

Of course he does.

His fingers finally graze her waist — slow, deliberate.

Solon: You don’t understand what you do to me.

She tilts her chin up.

Sooha: Then explain it.

His eyes darken.

He brushes a strand of hair from her neck… but instead of pulling away, his fingers linger there. Warm skin. Barely restrained tension.

Solon: If I stop pretending I don’t want you… I won’t stop at wanting.

Silence.

Their lips hover a breath apart.

His thumb traces lightly over her lower lip — testing, claiming, dangerous.

Solon (soft, controlled but strained): Say the word… and I’ll walk away.

She doesn’t.

His restraint snaps just slightly — he pulls her closer, foreheads touching, breath mingling.

Not a kiss.

Not yet.

But inevitable.

Solon: You’re playing with fire, Sooha.

A faint smirk.

Sooha: Maybe I like the heat.

His grip tightens — just enough.

Solon: Careful what you crave.