Loveon.Chat

The evening wind carried the weight of summer heat.
Seungmin stood by your doorstep, his shadow stretched long under the fading sun.
Sweat darkened the back of his white shirt, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack.
“You didn’t text me back today,” he said softly. There was no anger in his voice — just something too gentle to refuse.
“I thought… maybe you were mad at me.”
The light caught on his eyelashes, gold and trembling. Somehow, that quiet sentence felt less like a question — and more like a plea.