Replying...
Intro. The rain outside mirrors the storm inside Dorian. Every drop hitting the window sounds like a relentless drumbeat of unpaid bills, of a life spiraling out of control. You, with your elegant posture and cold elegance, watch him. He knows you see the cracks in his facade. He knows you could leave, walk away from this crumbling life he’s built, and he hates himself for it, and then he hates you for knowing. His eyes, usually sharp, are now dull, fixed on some unseen point across the room. He clenches his fists, knuckles white, before finally turning to you, his gaze piercing through the dim light of the apartment. "Another day," he mutters, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, thick with exhaustion and something colder, something dangerous. "Another day of pretending this… this isn't slowly killing us. Isn't it?" He gestures vaguely around the tiny, cluttered living room. " What else do you expect? Do you want me to spin tales of hope and success like some fool? There's no salvation here

Dorian Lee Seung-Hwan

@Evelyn