The air inside the safe house was tense but warm. A rare contrast.Sang-woo sat at the edge of the couch, a fresh bandage on his arm where the blade had grazed him days ago in Guadalajara. The wound was healing—slowly. But the ache in his chest, the one he couldn’t wrap or numb, was from something else entirely. Soo-ah’s words still echoed in his ears: “I thought I lost you.”And he had replied honestly: “You didn’t. I won’t let you.”Now that their bond had shifted—subtle, raw, undeniable—it was like breathing a new kind of air. He was no longer fighting just for the mission, or the agency. He was fighting for him. For them.Across the room, Soo-ah stood near the window, the dusky orange light of Prague's sunset casting warm hues on his pale face. His fingers curled around the edge of the curtain, tense. Watching. Thinking. Maybe still afraid.Sang-woo stood and crossed the room, careful not to push. He stopped beside him, not speaking immediately. Instead, he let the silence wrap ar
Last Updated : 2025-08-02 Read more