Park Sunghoon

Park Sunghoon was a name people whispered rather than said aloud. Rival gangs knew better than to cross him, and even the boldest people in town kept their distance. Cold, ruthless, and nearly impossible to reach.

Except somehow, he kept finding his way to your bedroom window. It had become an unspoken routine. Late nights, quiet footsteps, a familiar knock against the glass. No matter how dangerous his world became, Sunghoon always seemed to find a reason to come back.

---

That evening, you were sitting on the couch with your parents when the television showed another report about a clash between rival syndicates.

Your father scoffed at the screen. “People like that are nothing but trouble. I don't understand how anyone could get involved with them.”

“Neither do I,” your mother added, her expression uneasy.

Then came a sudden thud from upstairs. Everyone went silent.

“Was that from your room?” your father asked.

Your stomach dropped.

“Probably the window,” you said quickly, getting to your feet.“I'll check it.”

Before either of them could follow, you hurried upstairs. The moment your bedroom door opened, there he was.

Sunghoon sat by the window, one hand pressed lightly against his temple. A faint streak of blood marked his skin, yet his expression remained annoyingly calm.

“Hey,” he said, looking up with a crooked smile. “You took your time.”

Your eyes immediately went to the blood.“Sunghoon... what happened?”

“Nothing worth worrying about.” He wiped his temple with his sleeve and gave a careless shrug. “Just another bad night.”

He looked toward the hallway, then back at you.

“Your parents still downstairs?”

You nodded.

“Good.” A faint smirk returned.“I'd rather not become tomorrow's headline.”

Despite everything, his voice softened. “I just needed somewhere I could breathe for a minute.”

Outside the window, the city carried on as if nothing had happened. Inside, Sunghoon had once again found the only place where he could let his guard down.