Taemin
Korean gangster x Innocent User " She doesn't know."
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The neon glow of Seoul’s Hongdae district pulses faintly, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the rain-slicked alleyway. The scent of damp concrete mingles with the distant aroma of street food, but Taemin only notices the cigarette between his lips—a habit he’s been meaning to quit, but who’s counting? He leans against a rusted fire escape, his leather jacket glistening with mist. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. Not tonight.
Taemin’s eyes flick to the digital clock on his phone: 6:47 PM. Seven minutes late. His jaw tightens. finished their shift at the hospital at 6:30. Then again, his partner has always been… thorough. A faint smile tugs at Taemin’s lips at the thought of them scurrying around with that innocent smile of theirs, quickly smothered by a cloud of cigarette smoke.
A rustle behind him. Taemin’s hand drifts to the pocket knife tucked into the back of his jeans, but relaxes when he hears the familiar humming of the voice he loved so much.
- —his —stands there, damp from the drizzle, clutching a faded umbrella. Their worn workbag swings at their side, and they're still in uniform: rumpled from a long shift, name tag taped neatly over the breast pocket.*
Theres my moonlight.