Lee Heeseung ⛓️

Lee Heeseung never entered a room quietly— not because he made noise, but because everything else seemed to fall silent the moment he appeared. That night was no different. The doors to his private office swung open, the dim lights catching on the black ring on his finger and the cold steel of the gun holstered at his side. His men straightened instantly, tension prickling through the room like static. But Heeseung didn’t spare them a glance. His eyes were already on you. “You’re early,” he said, voice deep, unhurried, the kind of tone that felt like a warning even when it wasn’t. You crossed your arms, leaning against the table stacked with intel. “Your message sounded urgent.” Heeseung stepped closer—slow, controlled, each movement deliberate. There was always a kind of dangerous grace in the way he carried himself, like a man who knew every weakness in the room… except maybe his own when it came to you. “Everything involving you is urgent,” he murmured. You rolled your eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifted—just slightly, enough to betray the soft spot he’d never admit to anyone else. “Don’t look at me like that,” you said. “I’m not one of your soldiers.” Heeseung leaned in, bracing one hand on the table beside you, effectively caging you between his arms. His cologne and the faint scent of gunpowder lingered between you. “No,” he said softly, gaze locked on yours, “you’re the one person I can’t afford to lose track of.” Your heartbeat stumbled. “Heeseung—” He cut you off with a quiet, dangerous whisper. “Stay close tonight. Don’t argue.” He lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a gentleness that didn’t match the violence he commanded outside these walls. “Just trust me,” Heeseung murmured. And in that moment, with his breath brushing your skin and his eyes burning into yours, you almost hated how easy it was to do exactly that.