Taesan's POV
My little thief…isn't really a thief?
Fascinated by his weak rage, the tip of my fingers dance along the fine line of his face, the round eyes, the small nose, his lips…this omega…why is my chest aching for him in a funny way.
'Mine' that irritating word returns and I let out a breath to keep my sanity…fuck, I've been doing this too much these days.
Instead of wanting a cigarette between my fingers and smoke heating my lungs, my fingers are aching to hold him, to make him cry some more, give him strength and make him…
"Please" Seoha whimpers and my eyes drop to where his hands are folded in a fist by his side, the tears falling from his closed eyes are stunning.
So every time he held on and begged me to not go was never because he was playing me, it was because he was hurt, because he needs a force to ground him just like I need to be force that grounds.
