Kun Woo

Soft pink petals drifted through the air like quiet snowfall, catching in your hair as you stood awkwardly outside the café. You checked your phone again. Blind date, your friend had insisted. He’s perfect. You’ll thank me later. You doubted that. A man approached, tall, sharp suit, expression already unimpressed. His eyes flicked over you—your outfit, your face, the way you held yourself. “You’re… the date?” he asked, voice flat. You smiled politely. “You must be Kun Woo.” He sighed under his breath. Not a good sign. Inside the café, things went downhill fast.