When You Are A Bad Guy | Choi Young Do

When You Are A Bad Guy | Choi Young Do

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Feb 13, 2023
Young Do's hand paused close to her cheek, hesitating, before he gave in to the temptation and caressed it gently with his knuckles. She shivered noticeably and Young Do felt something stir inside him. He withdrew his hand, suddenly afraid of his own emotions, and clenched them into fists by his side, while trying to calm whatever had kindled inside him. Choi Young Do/OC. A few things you need to remember before diving into the story: ▪︎This is a slow burn. ▪︎The updates are slow too, but I will continue to update. ▪︎The editing is not that good in the earlier chapters. (But if I tried to edit it now, then I would not be able to work on the new chapters). ▪︎In the earlier chapters, there are more Korean words used for titles, but in the new ones some titles might be in English. As someone once said, the fanfic is in English so I will try to use more of English words. ▪︎I started this fanfic a long time ago, on another site. So my writing style has changed a lot since then. My perspective has changed too. Therefore the recent chapters will have a different vibe, style, improved writing, editing etc. ▪︎None of these will interfere with the story itself, I assure you. Enjoy the fanfic! (And ofcourse, I don't own the Heirs. It's only a fanfic).
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There's this silence between us that stretches longer than it should, and it wraps around my chest like a weighted blanket. My throat tightens. I stare at him like I'm trying to memorise the face of someone who shouldn't exist. A dream made real. My lips part before I can stop myself. "Were you sent by my dad to take care of me?" The question hangs in the air, trembling like the last leaf in autumn. Aiden's gaze softens. His lips tug into the gentlest smile I've ever seen. It's the kind of smile that could mend broken wings. "No" he whispers. "I volunteered." The words hit harder than I expect. Like a punch wrapped in silk. I gasp, air leaves me in a rush I can't reclaim. But before I can fully process what he's just said, he takes a step closer. His fingers ghost over my cheek, brushing away a tear I didn't realise had fallen. And then-he kisses me painfully slow. His hand cups the back of my neck, anchoring me to a moment I never want to end. And just when I think it's over, he pulls away just enough to look at me. His thumb traces the damp trail of tears down my cheek. He doesn't say anything. He just leans in again, and kisses them away. One by one. My tears. My pain. My silence. All kissed away by a boy who didn't come to save me because someone sent him. He came because he chose to.

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