Seo-jin couldn't stop herself. Every night, after the world went quiet and the distance between her and Min-jae felt insurmountable, she would find her way to his room. Her heart raced each time, a mix of fear and need. The desperation clawed at her, a suffocating ache she couldn't ignore. She needed him. She needed to feel something—anything—that reminded her that she wasn't invisible to him.
And so, she kept slipping into his room, even if it meant pushing herself into his space, invading his calm, orderly world. Her hands trembling with anticipation, she would slip into his bed, quietly curling up against him, praying that somehow, some way, he would let down his walls and give her the affection she craved.
But each time, Min-jae was colder, more indifferent. It was as if he was becoming more aware of the power he held in this relationship. At first, he had been silent and withdrawn, keeping his emotions tightly restrained, carefully calculating every move he made. But over time, as Seo-jin's dependence on him grew, so did his awareness of his control over her.
Min-jae watched her with a quiet, calculating gaze, analyzing every action she took. He could feel the shift in her—the way her once proud and independent demeanor had begun to crumble under the weight of her need for him. He could see the way she clung to him, the way she needed his approval, his touch.
And it disturbed him, but it also gave him something. Power. Control. The very things he had once craved, but now they were tangled with a strange sense of satisfaction. He was the one in charge now, and Seo-jin—the woman who had rejected him so brutally, who had pushed him away—was now dependent on him in ways he hadn't anticipated.
He saw her early one morning, sitting at the edge of the bed with a quiet expression on her face, her eyes searching for him as if she had nowhere else to go.
"You're here again," he said, his voice cold, but with an edge of something else—something darker.
Seo-jin looked up at him, her eyes heavy with longing. "I couldn't help it," she murmured, a soft vulnerability in her voice that sent a ripple through him.
Min-jae stared at her, a strange pull in his chest. He had told himself over and over again that he would never let her get this close again, that he wouldn't fall into the trap of loving her once more. But as time went on, and as her dependence on him grew, he found himself letting go of the control he had fought so hard to maintain.
He didn't want to feel this way. He didn't want to let her in again. Yet, there was something about the way she looked at him—so broken, so vulnerable—that he couldn't completely shut her out.
He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. His hand reached out, a strange tenderness in his touch as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You're becoming too dependent on me," he said, his voice low, almost pitying. "It's not healthy, Seo-jin."
She looked up at him, her face a mixture of fear and longing. "I... I just need you. I don't know how to stop."
Min-jae took a deep breath, his chest tightening. He hated that she had such power over him, that he could feel himself softening in the face of her desperation. He had wanted to hurt her, to make her feel what he had felt—the rejection, the abandonment. But now, seeing her like this, his emotions were tangled in a mess of guilt and something deeper, something he couldn't fully name.
Instead of pushing her away as he had before, he allowed his touch to linger on her cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. He couldn't control it. His feelings for her were still there, buried beneath the layers of hurt and resentment. And slowly, bit by bit, they began to resurface.
"You're never going to be free of me, are you?" Min-jae said quietly, more to himself than to her. There was a strange, almost amused look in his eyes now. It was as if he had resigned himself to this new dynamic between them—one where he held the power and she, despite everything, was his to control.
Seo-jin's heart pounded in her chest. She didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. She had wanted him to acknowledge her, to show her some sign that he cared, but now that he was giving her that attention—albeit in his own twisted way—she felt a wave of both fear and relief wash over her.
"I don't want to be free of you," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Min-jae smiled, but it wasn't a comforting smile. It was a smile that spoke of control, of domination. "Well, then you'll have to live with the consequences," he said softly, before leaning in to kiss her, a kiss that was both tender and possessive at the same time.
In that moment, Seo-jin knew, without a doubt, that she had fallen into his trap. She had made herself so dependent on him, so desperate for his approval, that she had lost any semblance of power in the relationship.
It was a slow burn, this Stockholm syndrome she had unknowingly fallen into. But as Min-jae kissed her, his hands holding her close, she felt a strange mix of emotions—fear, desire, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness. She was in his grip now, and the more she needed him, the tighter that grip became.
And Min-jae? He knew exactly what he was doing. He was the one in control now, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to feel the satisfaction of that power. He had won.