kctrlss
"ððððððððð ððð ðððððð ððð ðððððð ðððð'ð ððð ðððð ððð'ðð ððððððð ð
ðð ."
â°â©- strangers to lovers.
ðð ððððð,
ððð ððððððð has grown up learning how to move through the city without stopping. eighteen, outgoing, grounded, and always surrounded by people - she lives in routines, late nights, and responsibilities that leave little room for pause. noticing things is easy. sitting with them is not.
ðððð ððððð lives close by but never too close. quiet without being distant, familiar without being known, he spends his nights in the same streets, the same garage, the same spaces she passes through. he watches more than he speaks, and remembers what others let fade.
their connection doesn't arrive loudly. it forms in shared streets, brief conversations, and moments that linger longer than they should. nothing is rushed. nothing is named too soon.
this is a story about proximity, about timing, and about the quiet pull between two people learning how much space they're willing to close.
because sometimes attraction isn't about falling, it's about realizing you've already been standing too close to walk away.
áŽxáŽáŽÉŽáŽ
áŽáŽ
sáŽáŽáŽáŽÊÊ ÉªÉŽ ÊáŽáŽáŽ!
kwon ohyul x asianfemoc!
started: ðð/ð/ðð
published ð/ð/ðð
ended: ððð
ðððððð: ððððððð
© kctrlss, ðððð