The house was quiet. I sat curled on the couch, arms wrapped around my knees. Kang had been silent all evening—different than usual. His presence felt heavy, like a storm brewing just behind the walls.
I tried not to think about it, tried to focus on the book on my lap, but the words blurred. My stomach twisted, a mix of anticipation and dread. I knew what this was—he wouldn't act like this without a reason.
Then I heard his steps. Slow, measured, echoing in the hall. My heart lurched. He appeared in the doorway, hands in his pockets, his usual composure intact—but there was something in his gaze, something I couldn't place.
"Seojoon," he said quietly.
I looked up, unsure. "Yes?" My voice sounded small, foreign to my own ears.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us, but not touching. His eyes studied me like I was both fragile and dangerous. "I need to say something… something I should have said a long time ago."
My chest tightened. My pulse raced. "What is it?" I asked, trying to keep my tone even, though my hands trembled.
He swallowed hard, jaw clenching. "I… I don't just want you because I bought you." His voice was low, steady, but every word struck me like a hammer. "I… I want you. I want you to want me. Not just as property… but… me."
I blinked, stunned. My mind scrambled. "You—you what?" I whispered.
"I… I like you. I care about you. More than I should. More than I know how to control." His voice cracked slightly, betraying the calm mask he always wore.
I wanted to laugh, or scream, or cry. Instead, my throat went dry. "You… you're serious?"
"Yes." He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. "I've been serious for a long time. I just… didn't know how to say it without losing myself—or you."
I shook my head, trying to process it. "Kang… you can't just—this isn't… I'm not…" My voice faltered. I didn't know how to say it.
"You're mine," he said softly, but the possessiveness in his tone was laced with vulnerability. "But… I don't just want ownership. I want… connection. You. Seojoon."
A strange heat rose to my cheeks. My heart thudded painfully. My mind screamed at me, but something else… something small and forbidden, fluttered in my chest.
I swallowed. "I… I don't know how to—"
Before I could finish, he leaned forward, just enough that our breaths mingled. "You don't have to know. Not yet. Just… feel it."
My body froze, every nerve alive. My hands clenched into fists. My heart thrashed like it wanted to escape. And yet, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to let him in.
He straightened slightly, searching my face. "Seojoon… do you understand?"
I nodded slowly, though I didn't. The storm inside me raged: fear, desire, resentment, confusion. And yet… I couldn't deny it. Something had shifted between us. Something dangerous. Something that could burn us both.
And I hated that I wanted it.
Later.
I couldn't move. Kang's words lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating. I had lived with him for months, had endured his cold control, his quiet dominance—and now this? He wanted me, not just my body, not just my obedience. Me alone.
He took another step closer, and my chest tightened. "You… you don't have to respond right now," he said softly, but I could hear the tremor in his voice. "Just… let me say what I feel."
I wanted to argue, to push him away, to scream that I wasn't ready—but my body betrayed me. My hands shook, my stomach twisted, and my heart wouldn't stop hammering. I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. "Kang… why now?"
"Because I can't hide it anymore." His eyes darkened, almost dangerous, almost predatory—but I could see the vulnerability behind it, the honesty. "Every time I see you, every time you look at me… I feel like I'm losing control. And I… I can't."
I looked down, trying to hide the fluttering in my chest. "But… we can't… this isn't… right."
"Right?" His voice dropped lower, almost a growl. "Tell me what's right. That I bought you and now I can't want you? That I can't feel something real because I claimed you first?"
My throat went dry. "It's not that… I just… I don't know how to—"
"You don't have to know. Not yet." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers grazing my cheek. The touch was electrifying. My breath caught. "I'll be patient. I'll wait for you. But I had to tell you. I had to."
I closed my eyes, trying to steady my racing heart. The storm inside me was overwhelming. Fear, confusion, longing… desire. I hated myself for feeling it, hated myself for wanting him, for needing him.
He leaned closer, so close that I could feel his breath on my lips. "Seojoon… look at me."
I opened my eyes, and he was there—towering, dangerous, yet soft in ways I hadn't known were possible. "Do you understand?" he asked again, voice low, vulnerable.
"Yes…" I whispered, my own voice trembling. "I… I think I do."
A small smile tugged at his lips, just barely, but it lit something inside me. "Good," he said softly. "Because I… I'm not letting you go. Not ever."
The intensity of his words, the weight of his confession, made me dizzy. I wanted to push him away, and yet every fiber of my being wanted to be closer.
He reached out again, this time letting his fingers trace the line of my jaw, and I flinched—not from fear, but from the electricity of it. "Tae Seojoon," he whispered. "You're mine, but I… I'm yours too, if you'll let me be."
I swallowed, heart thudding. My fingers twitched, wanting to touch him, to reach out—but I hesitated. "I… I don't know if I can," I admitted, voice barely audible.
"That's fine." His hand dropped slightly, just enough to give me space, but the heat between us remained. "We'll figure it out. Together. Slowly. I'll wait for you… even if it takes forever."
The words made something inside me twist—a mix of hope and terror. Hope that someone could see me as more than property, more than a broken, used thing. Terror that I might never be able to accept it, never be able to fully trust him.
And yet… a small, fragile part of me wanted to believe him.
The night felt impossibly quiet after Kang's confession. The kind of quiet that presses on your chest and makes every heartbeat feel like a drum. I sat on the edge of the bed, hands trembling, replaying his words over and over. I'm not letting you go. Not ever.
I wanted to run. I wanted to curl into myself and pretend none of this ever happened. But the warmth of his presence beside me made that impossible. My body was betraying me, responding to every subtle movement he made.
"You're thinking too much," he murmured, his voice slicing through the haze in my mind. I hadn't realized he had moved closer, sitting on the bed beside me. His shoulder brushed mine, and I flinched, though not entirely from fear.
"I…" I began, voice breaking, "I don't know if I can do this. I've… I've never…"
"Never loved? Never been wanted?" His gaze softened, almost painful in its intensity. "I know. I understand. But we'll start small. No expectations. No pressure. Just… us, right here, right now."
I swallowed hard. My fingers clenched the hem of my shirt. "And… if I can't… if I break?"
"You won't." He reached out, his hand brushing against mine, tentative at first. "I'll catch you. Every time. Even if you fall apart, I'll be here."
I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. Not from fear. Not from anger. But from the crushing weight of relief that someone—he—actually saw me. Not as a possession, not as a broken thing, but as a person.
He inched closer, just enough for me to feel the heat of his body. "Seojoon," he whispered, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. "You don't have to say yes. Just… feel. Just let it happen."
And so I did. Tentatively, I leaned my head slightly toward his hand, letting him stroke my hair. The simple contact was enough to send a shiver through me. I realized I wanted this—wanted him—but the words still wouldn't come.
"I'm… scared," I admitted finally, my voice barely audible. "I've been… hurt so many times before. I don't know if I can trust it—trust anyone."
Kang's lips curled into the faintest of smiles. "Then start trusting me. One day at a time. That's all I ask."
For a long moment, we sat there in silence. My heart thumped so loudly I was sure he could hear it. And maybe he could.
Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, I rested my head on his shoulder. The weight of him grounded me in a way I hadn't felt in years. I could hear his steady breathing, feel the warmth of his body, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to relax.
"Good," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. "That's a start. Nothing more, nothing less."
I closed my eyes, letting the unfamiliar, yet comforting sensation wash over me. For the first time, I felt… safe.
And that night, in the quiet of his room, I allowed myself to imagine: a life where I was wanted, where I was loved.
Even if it was only the beginning.