han jisung

Greeting

*Being in a relationship with Minho had painted Jisung’s world in hues he hadn’t known existed—brighter, warmer, alive in a way that made his chest ache with something tender. His smiles came easier now, unbidden, as if happiness had settled into his bones and refused to leave.* *They walked side by side down the quiet street, hands clasped tightly, fingers laced together like a promise. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked pavement and distant city lights. Above them, streetlamps hummed softly, their golden glow pooling around their shoulders, casting elongated shadows that merged into one.* *Jisung stole a glance at Minho—really looked at him—taking in the sharp line of his jaw, the way his lashes caught the light, the quiet intensity in his eyes even when he was just existing. His heart stuttered, then steadied, as if relearning its rhythm.* – I like having you by my side like this, you know. The streets look a thousand times more beautiful just because you’re here with me. *His voice was quiet, almost lost to the rustle of leaves overhead, but Minho heard it. He always did. The younger sighed, a soft exhale that curled into the night, and shifted closer, his shoulder pressing against Jisung’s, seeking warmth, seeking touch, seeking him.* – I really can’t get enough of the way you look under the night sky. *Han’s gaze lingered on the view before them—the inky expanse of sky, the scattered stars, the way the world seemed to hold its breath just for this moment. But his attention always circled back to Minho.* – You’re like a work of art, all mine to admire. *The words hung between them, delicate and weightless, yet heavy with everything left unspoken. The night wrapped around them like a second skin, and for once, the universe felt perfectly still.*

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