#eunwoo

[aeroplvne]

cha eunwoo in the wonderfools (netflix - 2026)

[astrogazing]

THE WONDERFOOLS 원더풀스 | 2026, Ep. 8

[jiniretracha]

ꕤ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 '𝟐𝟒 - 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟖 ꕤ

Cha Eun Woo x fem!reader: lingerie use

summary: Nayeon, your best friend, had insisted you on buying a lingerie set for your boyfriend.

warnings: smut, lingerie, insecurities (?), unprotected sex, i just want a bf like him is that too much to ask?

word count: 1.5k

kinktober masterlist // masterlist // ko-fi

The shopping mall wasn’t something you frequented that much. You were more into online shopping and when you did actually go, you always went to the same shops. Plus, crowds weren’t really your thing. It annoyed you that people didn’t really know how to walk through aisles without bumping into you. 

But there you were.

Nayeon, your best friend, had insisted you on going to the mall, blabbering about wanting to buy a new set of lingerie for her. She kept skipping through the different stores until she reached one of her liking. 

“Tell me, isn’t this cute?” she asked, grabbing a creme baby doll dress and holding her up over her chest. 

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah”

She huffed and left the baby doll back in its place. “You’ve said that about every single piece of clothing that I’ve shown you, Y/N” she pouted as she crossed her arms over her chest with a frown.

You chuckled. “I’m sorry, Na. I’m just a little bit tired” you sighed. “But I promise I like it, I think it’ll look amazing on you” 

Nayeon then gasped and covered her mouth. “Holy shit, I know! We’ll have to get you one of these!” she squealed, clapping her hands together. 

Your eyes widened. “Oh God, Nayeon. Please…”

“Oh come on! Don’t you wanna show Eunwoo how good you’d look in one of these? Because I’m telling you, that man is whipped as fuck for you. Would you imagine if he saw you in one of these?” Nayeon kept on insisting.

You grimaced and arched your eyebrows. “You’re sure these will look good on me?” you asked her.

Nayeon practically snorted at your insinuation. “Look good on you? Fuck no, you’ll look stellar, perfect, flawless in them” she smirked.

You let out a sigh and gave up. “Okay, help me choose one?”

── .✦

Nayeon left you at home with the baby doll set you purchased, in hopes that your boyfriend would like you in it.

You had already tried it on back at the store, but you felt like trying it on again.

You stared at yourself in the mirror dressed up in a light mint green coloured lace lingerie set, the bra cups pushed up your tits on your chest, practically spilling out. The panties were thin as freaking lines and they barely made an effort to cover up your crotch. 

You chewed on your lip as your eyes danced all over your figure.

Your heart started slamming inside your ribcage when you heard the front door opening and a familiar sigh.

“Baby, I’m home” Your boyfriend called out from the living room. “Are you in the bedroom?” Eunwoo asked.

You snatched your robe from the closet and quickly threw it on, tying the knot quickly over your waist. “Y-yeah, I’m here!” you called back.

His comforting and very much needed presence filled the room. He instantly smiled at you and walked over to you, framing your face and kissing your lips. “I missed you” he whispered against your lips and you giggled.

“I missed you too” you whispered back. 

“You just came out of the shower, hon?” he asked you, noticing that you were wearing a robe.

You looked down at what you were wearing and felt your cheeks reddening. “Uh- I- no. I just came back from the mall with Nayeon” you stammered. 

“Oh, everything alright?” Eunwoo asked, his eyebrows furrowing in worry, noticing your discomfort in both your face and tone 

God, you loved him so much. “Yeah, everything’s fine… I just- um…” you cleared your throat.

His eyes searched your face. “What?”

“I bought a lingerie set” you said. “For you…”

Eunwoo smiled. “Okay? Show me!” he said excitedly.

You bit your lip. “I’m just- I don’t know- I’m not sure if you’ll like it. It- I think it makes me look weird” you said, feeling the insecurities start to creep up on you.

He frowned. “How in the hell would you, the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth, look bad or weird in a lingerie set, are you kidding me?” he asked, kind of offended you’d even insinuate that, even if he hadn’t seen you yet in it. 

You chuckled with a cute blush painted on your cheeks. “Okay…” you said and your fingers went to untie your robe.

“Is it under this?” Eunwoo asked, and you almost laughed at how cute he looked with his eyes blown wide. 

You nodded and quickly took the robe off, letting it fall to your feet.

He let out all the breath he was holding in a rush. “Fuck… baby. Do you even know how perfect you look right now?” he asked. And before you could reply, he grabbed your waist. “Turn around” Eunwoo said, and you clenched around nothing at how demanding he sounded. 

You obeyed and turned around, biting your lip as his eyes wandered around your behind.

You yelped and jumped up when you felt a sharp sting on your ass, meaning your boyfriend had just spanked you. “Shit, babe, I’m hard as fuck” he said, and turned you around by your waist. “You feel it?” he asked you, grabbing your hand and placing it on his crotch.

You bit your lip as you felt his erection through his jeans.

“Do you even know how it makes me feel that this is the first thing I see after coming home from work?” he asked you, pulling you against his chest, your pelvis hitting with the hardness on his pants. 

Eunwoo didn’t even let you answer, instead his lips silenced you in a kiss, inserting his tongue inside your mouth quickly, licking and sucking at your tongue. 

You moaned against his lips and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer towards you.

He backed you against the closet door, your back hitting the wood. His hands went up to your chest, pawing at your breasts, gripping them and pushing them together. 

Eunwoo bit your lip and tugged on it. His fingers toyed with the clasp that sat on your chest, and opened it slowly, leaving your nude torso on display for him. 

He threw his shirt on the floor, feeling hot himself and his mouth immediately attached to your nipples, sucking on your skin, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Eunwoo…” you sighed, carding your fingers through his black hair and tugging on it. 

“Fuck, and you thought I wasn’t gonna like this on you?” He said and then tugged your panties to the side, brushing his fingers over your wetness. “You’re so fucking soaked” he chuckled.

“Do something about it, please” you moaned.

“Oh, I will” 

He knelt down on the ground and grabbed your leg, draping it over your shoulder. His fingers pushed the thong to the side and licked over your hole. Your head hit the wooden door as Eunwoo started playing with your clit with his tongue, flicking it. 

“Shit, I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock” he groaned, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to the bed. 

Eunwoo was quick to throw his pants and underwear off his legs, his cock standing up and leaking over his stomach.

He grabbed your hips and made you sit down on his thighs. He pushed the thong to the side and grabbed the open lapels of your baby doll set to inch your chest closer to him. 

You grabbed his dick and probed it on your entrance. The moment you sat down, you both moaned in unison, feeling his mushroom tip hit the spot as soon as he was buried to the hilt inside of you. 

Eunwoo hooked his hands under your thighs and slammed you down on his cock, earning a high pitched whimper from you.

Your nails clawed at his back as he kept on slamming you down, keeping his bounces rhythmic. 

“You like that, baby?” he asked you, his mouth coming to bite at your chest, licking and sucking at your nipples. 

“Y-yeah” you nodded. “Shit, Eunwoo, don’t stop” you whined.

His mouth was busy so he could only groan and nod against your chest. He made a movement with his hips, thrusting even deeper inside of you that made you fall against his face. 

Eunwoo moved so his nose was pressed against the crook of your neck, taking full advantage of the way you were fully slumped on him. 

He rubbed at your clit, trying to get you to orgasm. “Are you close, honey?” he asked you.

You could only nod dumbly as only whimpers were only coming out of your mouth due to your brain that had turned into mush.

He felt your orgasm wash over his dick and he slammed once filled you up, feeling your body almost boneless on top of him.

He let himself drop on the bed on his back, with you on top of him.

“Babe, you okay?” he asked, his hand brushing down your back.

You nodded against his chest. “Better… than ever” you sighed.

He chuckled against your hairline and one of his hands came to scratch your scalp. “Do you believe me now that I find you insanely attractive with these shit on?” Oh you sure as fuck did now.

── .✦

taglist: @annhearttihaehe // @frequentlykit // @alexisfeliz // @jeonginsleftcheek // @yaorzu-blog // @jisunglyricist // @leeknowinggg // @ka0ila // @minghaosimp // @lixies-favorite-cookie // @yn-x-them // @chrizrizz // @madkati // @starzystay // @pancake-freckle // @velvetmoonlght //

i apologize if i can't tag u :(

[dazzlingkai]

Cha Eunwoo for W Korea (September 2024 Issue)

[eunwooverse]

carwash eunwoo 🔥 Rented In Finland 「핀란드 셋방살이」 Ep. 7

[s-eokie]

⠀ ⠀𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗒. “ 藝術 ” '𐓩' 𝗆𝗒 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘆𝘂.

⠀ ⠀𝗅𝗎𝗏 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗒 世界𝄖𝄖 ( ˘_˘)っ 𝖾𝓽 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒𝗎.

⠀ ⠀𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒𝗎 .. 𖩨𖩣 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗒 🥟❕️🎀 🩷

⠀ ⠀⠀

𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝓹𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗌 ( 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾. )

+ 𖺈 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋

– 𖺇 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘆𝘂 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇

𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗀𝗒𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖾, 真的.

⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀ ⠀𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗌 .. (｡ ﹷ ‸ ﹷ ) 🥛 𝗁𝖾 '𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲 !!

⠀ ⠀𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝗒𝗎 和٫ 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝖽 '𑊃'

⠀ ⠀“ 雞尾酒 ” 𝟷. 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒𝗎 ♡ 🍧 ☁️ 🍥 𝟸. 𝗌𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗒

⠀ ⠀⠀

[gaeulz]

[missinsane]

● ● ♡ ● ●

​THE WEIGHT OF THE EMPTINESS - Cha Eunwoo x Reader.

Summary: Three knocks on the door in the dead of night and the exact same scenario as always: Cha Eunwoo returns broken, covered in rain and blood after yet another senseless fight. To the college campus, he is just a troubled, dangerous boy; to her, he is a lost soul who looks for the silence in the blows that his own mind refuses to give him.

Warnings: Cha Eunwoo badboy!, Cha Eunwoo x reader, mention of Blood, street fighting.

Words: 3k

A/N: English is not my first lenguage, srry ♡

The rain lashed against the apartment windows with violence, a dull, constant sound that seemed to want to splinter the glass to flood the haven of warmth she had built. It was one of those nights when the outside world felt hostile and deeply broken.

Inside, the only sound was the ticking of the wall clock. The hands marked 2:13 in the morning when three sharp, heavy knocks echoed against the wood of the front door. They weren't the knocks of someone timidly asking for permission; they were the knocks of someone holding themselves upright by sheer force of will.

She, who had been sitting in the dim light of the couch for over an hour with a now-cold cup of tea between her hands, didn't need to ask who it was.

Her chest tightened in a sudden flutter; only one person called at her door at those hours of the morning, breathing with a broken haste, as if he had just run miles fleeing from his own demons or as if he had tried to tear the whole world down with his fists.

She stood up, dragging her bare feet across the carpet, and turned the key with clumsy fingers due to the sudden rush of adrenaline. As she pulled the handle, the cold from the hallway slipped into the entryway, bringing with it the scent of wet asphalt.

There he was.

Cha Eunwoo.

The doorframe seemed barely able to contain him. His dark, straight hair was soaked by the rain, plastered to his forehead in messy strands that dripped over his eyebrows. His white shirt, usually pristine, was wrinkled, unbuttoned at the top two buttons, and stained with dirt on the shoulders beneath a black coat heavy with accumulated water.

But what froze her breath wasn’t his disheveled clothes; it was his face.

There was a thin line of already dried blood starting at the corner of his plump lips and descending toward his jawline. Above his left eyebrow, a fresh, open cut glistened under the hallway light, threatening to drip into his eye. The knuckles of his right hand were completely reddened, scraped raw, with the bare skin exposed. His eyes—those deep, black eyes—were bloodshot, carrying a wild spark that refused to die out entirely.

And yet…

Yet, in the millisecond Eunwoo’s pupils focused on her, something inside that structure of stone and rage crumbled.

The tension in his shoulders gave way, and his mouth barely curved into a grimace that intended to be an apology.

"Hey," he murmured. His voice sounded hoarser than usual, rough, tired from the exertion and the cold of the street.

She felt her heart drop like lead straight into her stomach. Compassion and anger battled in her chest, but the sight of that swaying body won the fight.

"Oh my God..." she whispered, stepping back to give him space. "What happened this time?"

Eunwoo let out a brief laugh, a bitter sound without a hint of joy that ended in a wince of pain when his split lip stretched too far. He brought a hand to the side of his torso, carefully pressing his ribs.

"You should ask what didn't happen," he replied, trying to maintain that tone of self-sufficiency he used as a shield, even though his eyes betrayed him completely.

She didn't want to play his game. She knew that invincible-boy facade all too well.

She opened the door completely.

"Come in."

● ● ●

Eunwoo walked forward slowly, dragging his feet. With every step he took inside, he left a trail of small raindrops, mud, and a exhaustion so dense it seemed to fill the room. She closed the door behind him, leaning against the wood for a second, trying to control the trembling running through her hands.

It wasn't the first time this had happened.

Nor the second, and the certainty that this was turning into a damn cycle was what caused her the most panic.

Eunwoo took off his damp coat with slow movements, holding his breath every time he extended his arms. As he shed the heavy garment, the living room light revealed the magnitude of the disaster: beneath his jawline, dark, purplish bruises were already beginning to bloom, contrasting painfully with the almost porcelain paleness of his skin.

"They hit you hard..." she said, stepping closer to him, her eyes fixed on the mark on his neck.

"They look worse," Eunwoo shot back immediately, straightening his back with an absurd pride—the very same pride that drove him into those dark alleys to look for fights.

"Eunwoo."

It was just one word. His name spoken in a low whisper, heavy with a warning.

Her tone accomplished what no rival had managed that night: making him lower his head. Eunwoo shifted his gaze to the floor, unable to hold her eyes. Because in that fraction of a second, he realized she was looking at him with deep worry, a bone-deep disappointment, and an enormous affection. It was the only combination on the planet capable of piercing through his armor and making him feel an immense amount of guilt.

"Sit on the couch. Don't move," she ordered softly, breaking the silence.

She disappeared down the hallway toward the bathroom. Left alone, Eunwoo let himself fall onto the couch, sinking into it as if his muscles had decided to stop working. He rested his head against the backrest and closed his eyes, listening to the patter of the rain and the clinking of jars in the other room.

She returned carrying the small white plastic first-aid kit, placing it on the coffee table with a dull thud, and began to pull out the inventory: cotton, sterile gauze, alcohol, cleansing saline, a bottle of antiseptic, and adhesive bandages.

She knelt on the carpet right in front of him, bringing herself to his eye level.

"Look at me, Eunwoo."

He obeyed slowly, opening his heavy eyelids.

She extended both hands and took his face with extreme gentleness, resting her palms on his cheeks, precisely avoiding the swollen areas. That physical contrast nearly destroyed his composure. Her fingers were warm, soft, smelling of red berries cream and home; they were the absolute contradiction to the violence and coldness still burning on his skin. Eunwoo held his breath, letting himself yield to her touch, as if fearing that if he moved too much, she would leave.

"This is going to sting," she warned him, uncapping the antiseptic bottle and soaking a piece of white cotton.

"It doesn’t matter. I don't feel anything."

"Of course it matters," she corrected him in a whisper, bringing the gauze to his forehead. "Everything about you matters too much, even if you insist on treating yourself like trash."

With millimetric movements, she pressed the dampened cotton against the cut on his eyebrow. Eunwoo clenched his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly as a spasm rippled across his face. His fingers dug into the fabric of the couch, but he didn't let out a single groan.

"How many were there?" she asked, trying to distract him from the physical pain, though her own voice trembled.

"Five," he spat through his teeth.

Her hand stopped dead in its tracks, suspended millimeters from his face. Her eyes widened in horror.

"Five? Are you insane? They could have killed you, Eunwoo!"

"I'm fine, I already told you. I'm still alive."

"That doesn't mean anything and you know it perfectly well! One bad blow, an unfortunate fall against the edge of the curb and... and you wouldn't be here telling this."

Eunwoo opened his eyes and found himself absorbed in watching her profile, illuminated by the warm light of the living room lamp. He could see her furrowed brow, the way her lips pressed into a thin line as she tried with all her might not to burst into tears from the stress and helplessness. She always did that—she tried to stay as steady as a rock.

"One of them pulled out a broken bottle," he let out suddenly, without a filter, as if he needed to purge the venom.

She looked up immediately, panic standard across her features.

"What?"

"He tried to go for my neck," he continued, with a coldness that turned her blood to ice. "But he didn't get to use it. I broke his wrist before he could make a move."

The color completely drained from her face, leaving her pale under the light. The cotton slipped from her fingers straight onto the carpet.

"Are you crazy? Are you really losing your mind?"

"Probably," he answered, averting his gaze with a cynical smile that failed to hide the misery in his eyes.

"No, Eunwoo, I'm serious! This isn't a game, this isn't a damn action movie!"

Her voice broke on the last word, revealing the deep-seated fear crossing her chest.

That crack in her voice silenced him instantly. The arrogance vanished from Eunwoo as if it had been wiped away with a damp cloth. Because he could handle the punches to his ribs, he could handle blood blurring his vision, he could handle ending up sprawled in a dark alley with the taste of iron in his mouth. He endured all of that without blinking. But never, under any circumstances, could he stand to see her suffer because of him.

She set the medical supplies aside and hid her face in her hands for a second, taking a deep breath, forcing the air into her lungs to regain her composure.

"I don't understand why you do this..." she said, her voice faint, exhausted. "You're twenty-four years old, Eunwoo. You're in college, you have a future, your life is supposed to be starting, not destroying itself in fights."

Eunwoo rested both elbows on his knees, leaning forward, letting his wet hair hide his eyes as he stared blankly at a dead spot on the carpet.

"Because they start it," he muttered, his fists clenched. "They look for trouble."

"And you never know how to stop. You always deliver the final blow, you always look to push it to the extreme."

Silence settled into the room again, dense and suffocating, interrupted only by the drops hitting the glass.

She exhaled a long sigh and returned to her task. Taking a clean piece of gauze, she began to wipe away the dried blood staining the corner of Eunwoo's mouth. This time she did it with an almost reverent care, as if dealing with a piece of glass on the verge of shattering. As she closed the distance, Eunwoo stared intently up at her; his black eyes, framed by long, damp eyelashes, held an intensity that stole her breath away.

She tried to avoid eye contact and concentrated all her attention on his split lip, because she knew it was dangerous to look deep into those pupils. It was hard to keep a cool head, hard to stay angry when he looked at her with that mixture of devotion and affection. Even covered in wounds, even broken and stained, Cha Eunwoo still possessed a tragic beauty and a commanding presence.

"You should report these things to the university police," she said, trying to fill the void with logical words. "If those guys ambush you, it's a crime."

"It’s useless," he spat, without moving. "Laws don't stop guys who just want to watch the world burn. Only a punch to the jaw stops them."

"Does fighting actually do any good? Does it fix your life?"

Eunwoo let out a breath through his nose, and a dry laugh rumbled from his chest.

"At least... at least for a few minutes, I stop feeling empty."

The confession fell between them with a brutal weight. She stopped her hand completely, freezing with the gauze halfway between her face and his. Because finally, after months of evasions, cheap excuses, and lies, Eunwoo had said something real.

There was no arrogance in his voice, no sarcasm, none of that indifference he used to respond to the rest of the world.

He had used the exact word: Empty.

She slowly lifted her gaze to connect with his eyes. And for the first time all night, she discovered the real Eunwoo behind the mask of the troubled boy. He looked truly tired. It wasn't the physical fatigue of dodging punches for half an hour; it was a tiredness of the soul, an internal fatigue he had been dragging around for years, which college or fighting only managed to temporarily anesthetize.

She set the medical supplies back onto the coffee table slowly, temporarily giving up on finishing cleaning the rest of his scratches.

"Come here," she said, opening her arms slightly.

Eunwoo furrowed his brow a bit, blinking in bewilderment, as if he didn't understand the language she was speaking.

"What? I'm dirty, I'll get blood on your clothes..."

"Just come here, Eunwoo. I don't care about the clothes."

He obeyed without further argument. He slid across the couch, shortening the physical distance between them, leaning his large frame forward until he could wrap his long arms around her waist, hiding his face in the crook of her neck.

And then everything broke.

That boy who instilled fear in the campus hallways with his difficult temperament, that man who returned home covered in combat marks and pent-up rage, crumbled completely every time she held him that way. His shoulders began to tremble subtly—not from crying, because Eunwoo had forgotten how to cry a long time ago—but from the brutal release of tension.

He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, closing his eyes tightly, inhaling the scent emanating from her skin. She felt his heavy, hot, and ragged breath hitting her neck.

"I don't want to get a call from the police one of these days," she whispered, holding him tighter, burying her fingers in his damp hair. "I don't want them calling me from a hospital to tell me you ended up in the ER... or something worse, Eunwoo. I couldn't bear it."

Eunwoo swallowed hard, feeling a bitter knot in his throat.

"It won't happen. I know how to defend myself."

"You can't promise that. Nobody is invincible, and you are not made of stone no matter how hard you try."

He didn't answer. He kept a heavy silence because he knew she was absolutely right. One bad step, a rival armed with something more than a bottle, and his story would end in some dark alleyway in the city.

She began to stroke his hair with slow, steady movements, trying to comb through the stubborn strands that were drying in a messy tangle.

"What are you trying to prove to the world by fighting anyone who looks at you wrong, Eunwoo? What are you looking to win?"

The boy took a long time to answer. The silence was broken only by the storm outside.

"I want to prove that I'm not afraid of anything," he finally confessed. "That if they hit me, I can give the blow back with twice the force. That nobody can walk all over me."

She pulled back just a few centimeters, enough to force him to look her straight in the eyes. Her hands rose to cradle his battered jaw, with a tenderness that contrasted with the rawness of his words.

"But you are afraid of something, Eunwoo. And you know it."

The boy's eyes wavered, losing the steadiness that usually characterized them. He tried to turn his face away, but her hands kept him in place.

"You are terrified of standing still with yourself," she spoke softly, cutting deep with the truth into the center of his chest. "You panic in the silence, because when you are still, you have to think about everything that hurts you. That's why you look for the noise of the blows."

The silence following her words was brutal, almost physical.

Nobody in the world understood him like she did. Nobody possessed that ability to read between the lines of his impulsive violence. To the university, Cha Eunwoo was simply the troubled student dragging disciplinary files; to the professors, a lost cause with wasted talent; to the other guys, someone dangerous best avoided on a night out.

But her... she knew the boy who stayed awake at night because nightmares wouldn't let him breathe. She knew the young man who clenched his fists until they bled when memories of his family past became too vivid. She knew he sought out physical altercations just to experience a physical pain—something real that he could cure with bandages, instead of the dull, constant anger eating away at his chest from the inside.

Feeling so exposed before another person caused a wave of vulnerability to rush through him, making him uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that," he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

"Like what?"

"Like there's still something good in me. Like it's worth losing the night wiping away my blood."

She offered a tragic smile, her eyes glassy with small tears she refused to let fall.

"Of course there is. You are the noblest person I know, Eunwoo, even if you spend the day trying to convince everyone otherwise."

Eunwoo shook his head gently, carefully brushing her hands away to look back at the floor.

"You have no idea what goes through my head when I lose it. The darkness that's in there."

"Then tell me. Tell me everything. I'm here to listen, not to judge you."

He looked up, surprised by the firmness in her voice. She was serious; her eyes reflected an unshakeable determination. She was always serious when it came to saving him from himself. And that was exactly what made the situation so dangerous for him: it made her indispensable to his survival.

"Sometimes... sometimes I feel an uncontrollable urge to destroy everything around me," he admitted in a whisper, releasing the words with difficulty, as if they weighed tons. "Someone looks at me wrong in the cafeteria, or makes a stupid comment about me, and I just explode. There’s no middle ground. I feel a switch flip in my brain and I just see red."

She listened in absolute silence, taking in every word, allowing him to unburden himself.

"And then, when it's all over and I see what I did, I hate myself for it," he continued, his knuckles trembling on his knees. "It disgusts me to see what I become. But when I'm in the middle of the fight... when my fist connects with someone and I get a hit back... my head goes completely silent for a few seconds. The noise of the past turns off. Only the pain and I exist. It's the only time I don't think."

An oppressive knot formed in her throat. The pain behind his aggressiveness was genuine. This wasn't simple malice or a desire for juvenile rebellion; it was the desperate cry of someone deeply lost in a mental maze they didn't know how to escape.

She reached out her hands and took his, wrapping his bruised and battered knuckles within hers, transferring all the warmth she could.

"You don't have to keep hurting yourself physically to silence your mind, Eunwoo. You don't have to destroy your body to find peace."

He let out a short, dry laugh, devoid of humor.

"And what am I supposed to do instead? How do I turn off the noise if it's not like this?"

"By letting someone help you carry the weight. By letting me help you."

Their gazes met once more in the dim light of the living room. Eunwoo stared at her, and in that instant, he knew he was irretrievably lost, completely disarmed before her. No one had ever spoken to him with such a level of tenderness after witnessing his worst side. Anyone else would have walked away, anyone else would have called the police or screamed at him to grow up. But she remained there, kneeling on the carpet, willing to heal every single one of his cracks.

She picked up the first-aid kit again. With expert, gentle fingers, she finished cleaning the small incision on his lip and then peeled the protective backing off an adhesive bandage, placing it with utmost care over the swollen cut on his left cheek, just as it showed on his bruised features.

"There," she said, gently pulling her hands back. "You're patched up on the outside."

●●●

Eunwoo didn't move a single inch. He remained static on the couch, devouring her with his eyes, as if the simple act of blinking could make the scene dissolve like a dawn mirage.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly, beginning to pack the bottles back into the first-aid kit.

"Stay with me tonight," he asked.

His voice didn't have the tone he usually resorted to when putting distance between himself and others; it sounded vulnerable, stripped of defenses. It sounded younger, more human, tired of bearing the weight of a fictional war against the universe.

She felt her chest tighten with emotion. She left the kit on the table and offered him a look full of affection.

"I always stay, Eunwoo. I'm not going anywhere."

The boy lowered his head, exhaling a long sigh, as if hearing the confirmation of those words had lifted an invisible weight off his shoulders.

Hours later, the storm outside seemed to lose its strength, turning into a steady, soft drizzle that wrapped around the city. Inside the apartment, the main light had been turned off. Eunwoo was lying across the couch, his body stretched out and his head resting carefully on her lap. The television remained on to a news channel with the volume muted; neither of them was paying attention to the screen.

She ran her fingers slowly and rhythmically through the boy's dark hair, untangling the strands that had now completely dried. Her touch was peaceful.

And Eunwoo, for the first time in weeks, was completely still. There was no tension in his jaw, his fists remained open and relaxed at his sides, and his breathing was deep, harmonious.

"When I'm fighting..." he murmured suddenly, breaking the silence of the room with a sleepy but clear voice.

She looked down at him, pausing the movement of her fingers for a second.

"Yes?"

"I always end up thinking about you right after the last hit," he continued, opening his eyes to lock his pupils onto her face. "When the noise dies down and I realize what I've done, the first thing that comes to my mind is your face."

Her heart gave a painful thud. She resumed the movement of her fingers, brushing a stray lock away from his forehead, right next to the bandage.

"Why, Eunwoo?"

"Because you're the only reason I decide to get up off the ground and come home. If you weren't waiting for me here, I think I'd just stay lying in some alley until the cold took me."

The rawness of his words hurt her deep in her chest. She tilted her face down, feeling the enormous responsibility that came with being the anchor for such a stormy mind.

"Then, if I really matter that much to you, stop giving me reasons to live in constant worry," she pleaded in a whisper. "Stop giving me reasons to be afraid every time I hear the phone ring in the middle of the night."

Eunwoo opened his eyes fully and gazed at her intently, as if trying to etch every detail of her features into his memory for the dark days to come.

"I'm trying," he assured her in a low voice.

"Not hard enough, Eunwoo. You feel like violence is your only way out, but you have to find another way to channel what you have inside."

The boy remained silent. He knew he couldn't argue with that. He knew his escape method was selfish and destructive, and that it dragged her into a whirlwind of anguish she didn't deserve to live through.

She sighed with a weariness that reflected the hours of keeping watch.

"I don't want to lose you over something stupid, Eunwoo. I don't want someone to make an irreversible mistake in some dark corner one of these nights and leave me here alone."

He extended his right hand—the one with the scraped knuckles—and took her hand with infinite caution, taking care not to hurt her with his wounds.

"I'm not going to disappear. I promise."

"People always think they have control over things right before they lose it completely," she replied, looking at the ceiling with melancholy.

The sentence hung in the space, suspended amidst the shadows of the living room. Eunwoo turned his face slightly on her lap and, with a movement steeped in an almost desperate devotion, pressed his bruised lips against her knuckles. It was a long, warm kiss that conveyed everything his pride prevented him from saying.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against her skin. "I'm truly sorry."

She knew, from the tone of his voice, that he wasn't just apologizing for the fight that night, nor for arriving bloody at two in the morning. He was apologizing for all the previous nights, for every scare he had caused her, for the hostile silences he used to answer her questions, and for every fragment of his own soul that he still hadn't figured out how to mend.

She felt the gathered tears threatening to overflow, but she made an effort and offered him a small, comforting smile in the dimness.

"Just... stay safe and always come home alive, okay? That's all I ask of you."

Eunwoo closed his eyes again, settling his head comfortably on her legs, letting himself be rocked by the continuous movement of her fingers through his hair.

Outside, the rain kept falling, washing the city streets. And inside, in that small space illuminated by the television screen, the boy who was always ready to tear the world apart with his fists finally allowed himself to let his guard down and rest in peace.

...