She looked at him, stunned. Her lips, still damp from the kiss, parted in disbelief. Her eyes widened—round, glassy, the whites tinged with red from held-back tears. Her entire body shifted backward in instinctive retreat. One knee slid against the silk sheets, bunching the fabric beneath her. Her spine pressed into the headboard with a soft thud.
"I... I..." Her voice faltered, barely formed. The syllables clung to her tongue like fragments of a broken thought.
He had taken her first kiss—without tenderness, without consent—and looked at her now as if he hadn't just shattered something sacred.
Min-soo moved again.
His arm lifted slowly, languidly, as though reaching for something fragile. Then—his hand slid behind her head. Fingers parted and wove into her hair. They sank deep, curling at the roots like hooks. He gripped.
Hard.
"Ahh—!" she cried out, not loud, but high and breathless. Her head jerked back with the force of it, neck arching sharply. Her scalp burned beneath his hold. Her hands flew to his wrist, small fingers wrapping around it, pulling—uselessly.
His knuckles whitened.
"Don't act like you don't want me," he said, voice a low thrum against her cheek. His breath was hot, thick, sweet with tea and menace. The words melted into her skin, coating her like oil.
Min-soo leaned in closer. His nose brushed hers. His lips hovered beside her mouth—not kissing this time, just grazing. Testing. Cornering.
Ji-hyun's eyes fluttered, lashes slick with tears. Her throat pulsed visibly. A single drop slid from the corner of her eye, trailing down her cheek, over her jaw, before trembling at the edge of her chin.
"Min... Min-soo…" she breathed, the sound raw, trembling.
Another tear followed.
Her knees bent defensively, drawing slightly inward. Her hands still clutched his wrist, trembling now—not with resistance, but with stunned helplessness. The muscles in her arms tensed, but her grip was weak, as if her body was still deciding whether to fight or freeze.
His gaze didn't soften.
He stared down at her, expression unreadable—almost bored, but with something far more dangerous curling at the edge of his mouth. His eyes, that unnatural shade of clear crimson, flicked across her face with the detachment of someone appraising a possession.
Then, slowly, his grip in her hair loosened—but not completely.
His thumb slid forward to her temple, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with a softness that clashed violently with the bruising ache he'd just left on her scalp. The contrast made her flinch.
"You're already mine," he said, almost gently. His voice was smooth again. Polished. Like a scalpel.
Ji-hyun stared at him, chest rising and falling in shallow, frantic breaths. Her lips quivered, her chin trembled, but no more words came. Just the sound of her breathing, the rustle of silk beneath her knees, and the silence that followed him like a second shadow.
Thank you! Since it's noon in your scene, we can adjust the lighting, atmosphere, and physical sensations to reflect that time of day—like bright light filtering through windows, shadows sharpening across the bed, and the heat of the sun making every touch feel more intense or exposing.
"If I were you, I'd comply," he said, voice low and even. "There's no going back now."
The sun blazed through the tall windows, casting long bars of light across the sheets. Noon heat gathered in the room, thick and unmoving. Ji-hyun's skin prickled, the back of her neck damp with sweat. She blinked against the brightness, her lashes clumped from tears, her body caught between the stillness of dread and the sharp edge of fear.
Min-soo's gaze flicked over her.
Her legs were still tucked beneath her, trembling, her bare thighs pressed together with tension. He moved forward—a single shift of his knee—and the silk sheets bunched beneath him, the mattress dipping as his shadow crossed over her.
"Don't…" she murmured, but the word dried out in her throat.
He didn't answer.
With one hand, he reached toward the nightstand. The drawer slid open with a faint hiss, and the sudden clink of metal inside it made her flinch. Ji-hyun turned her face away from him, the light catching the damp line that had trailed from her eye to her jaw.
Then she felt it.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist—warm, unrelenting. Her pulse jumped beneath his touch. He lifted her arm, the motion slow but final, and brought it above her head. The metal cuff closed around her wrist with a cold, definitive click.
She jerked once, instinctively, but the chain held firm to the carved holeon the headboard. Her breathing quickened, chest rising and falling in erratic waves. Her other hand clutched the sheets, twisting the fabric so tightly her fingers cramped.
"Min-soo…" Her voice cracked, fragile and breathless. "Please don't…"
The sunlight caught in his hair, turning the strands at his temple to molten copper. He looked at her—not cruel, not kind. Just certain.
"I'll try to be gentle," he said, and though the words were soft, they landed with the finality of a lock sliding shut.
The warmth of the room turned suffocating. Her body trembled—not from cold, but from the heat of being trapped, exposed, caught in a moment that felt both hyperreal and impossible.
A bead of sweat slipped down the side of her neck, trailing into the hollow of her collarbone.
And Min-soo watched her—silent, still, and inescapable.