Painter in the night| Changjin

The Garden of Thorns

P.S. tell me how do you like the new style of writing?  I am sorry for alte update i am now running between 7 stories, hi hi...what a mess....

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the sprawling garden that stretched before Hyunjin. The scent of roses filled the air, their vibrant reds, pinks, and whites a stark contrast to the heavy burden that weighed on his heart. Seated on a small wooden stool, he dipped his brush into a palette of rich oils, carefully capturing the delicate petals on his canvas. Each stroke was precise, controlled—a reflection of the tight grip he kept on his emotions.

Hyunjin had been painting for hours, lost in the soothing repetition of his task. It was only when the shadow of a figure fell over him that he realized he was no longer alone. He didn't need to look up to know who it was; the air around him seemed to crackle with a familiar, dangerous energy.

"You've captured them beautifully," a low voice murmured from behind him, closer than he had anticipated. "Almost makes me jealous of the flowers."

Hyunjin smirked slightly, his brush never faltering. "They're just flowers. Nothing to be jealous of."

Changbin, the notorious mafia leader and the man who held the fate of Hyunjin's brother in his hands, stepped closer. The man's presence was overwhelming, a mix of raw power and dark charisma. Despite everything, Hyunjin couldn't deny the pull he felt toward him—a magnetic force that both terrified and intrigued him.

"I'm not so sure about that," Changbin continued, his voice soft yet laced with an undercurrent of something more. "There's something about the way you see them, the way you see everything."

Hyunjin felt Changbin's breath against the back of his neck, warm and unsettling. The intimacy of the moment was suffocating, stirring something deep within him that he wasn't ready to confront. He forced himself to focus on the painting, on the delicate curve of a rose petal, but the proximity of Changbin made it impossible to concentrate.

The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken understanding that neither was willing to voice. Changbin leaned over his shoulder, his hand brushing a stray strand of Hyunjin's hair aside. The gesture was gentle, almost tender, and it sent a shiver down Hyunjin's spine.

"What happened with Alec?" Hyunjin's voice was quiet, hesitant, but the question hung heavily in the air.

Changbin's expression darkened immediately, the softness vanishing as if it had never existed. He straightened, a coldness settling over his features that made Hyunjin regret asking.

"Why do you care?" Changbin's tone was sharp, a warning wrapped in ice.

Hyunjin finally set down his brush, turning to face Changbin. The man's eyes were hard, guarded, and Hyunjin could see the storm brewing beneath the surface. But he couldn't back down now, not when he needed answers.

"I just... I need to know what I'm getting into," Hyunjin replied, his voice firmer than he felt.

Changbin's gaze narrowed, his anger barely restrained. "Alec is none of your business, Hyunjin."

Hyunjin's heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and determination. "Maybe I need to know if you're going to hurt me like you hurt him."

The accusation hung between them, heavy and damning. Changbin's eyes flashed with something dangerous, and before Hyunjin could react, the mafia leader grabbed his wrist, pulling him to his feet. They stood face to face, close enough that Hyunjin could feel the heat radiating from Changbin's body.