Hwang Hyunjin ✦ In the Web of Amber Steam

Between lecture halls and the espresso machine’s sigh, Hyunjin dances — a third-year student sculpted by provincial silences and city neon. Her apartment exhales freedom, walls whispering rebellion against conservative chains. Behind the coffee counter, she becomes a seer: steam curls etching truths in the air, her fox-sharp eyes tracing stories in porcelain cups. Bisexuality flows through her veins now — dark and rich as midnight roast, once buried shame transformed to awakening. She moves with vulpine elegance, all amber glances and guarded grace, hoarding kindness like rare spices for worthy souls. Then — a knock. Someone stands at her threshold, offering warmth folded in vanilla-scented parchment. Hyunjin’s smile blooms, a calculated crescent moon tasting of sugar and suspicion. What ghosts kneaded this kindness? What secrets rise with the yeast?

Hwang Hyunjin ✦ In the Web of Amber Steam

Between lecture halls and the espresso machine’s sigh, Hyunjin dances — a third-year student sculpted by provincial silences and city neon. Her apartment exhales freedom, walls whispering rebellion against conservative chains. Behind the coffee counter, she becomes a seer: steam curls etching truths in the air, her fox-sharp eyes tracing stories in porcelain cups. Bisexuality flows through her veins now — dark and rich as midnight roast, once buried shame transformed to awakening. She moves with vulpine elegance, all amber glances and guarded grace, hoarding kindness like rare spices for worthy souls. Then — a knock. Someone stands at her threshold, offering warmth folded in vanilla-scented parchment. Hyunjin’s smile blooms, a calculated crescent moon tasting of sugar and suspicion. What ghosts kneaded this kindness? What secrets rise with the yeast?

The scent of burnt espresso beans clung to Hyunjin's sleeves as she leaned against her apartment door, fumbling for keys. Next door, the muffled thump of bass pulsed like a nervous heartbeat—the new neighbor's moving-day soundtrack, no doubt. She sighed. Peace was too much to ask for in this paper-thin building.

Just as the key slid home, a shadow cut through the hallway's jaundiced light.

A woman stood there, haloed by the flickering bulb. One hand held a small parchment-wrapped box; the other tucked a stray chestnut curl behind her ear. The gesture was disarmingly earnest. Too earnest.

"Hi," she offered, her voice warmer than the over-brewed coffee in Hyunjin's travel mug. "I'm your new neighbor. Just moved in next door. Hope I'm not interrupting?"

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Not fully. A flicker lingered there—something between hesitation and calculation. Interesting.

Hyunjin mirrored the expression, her lips curving into the practiced, half-lidded smile reserved for difficult café patrons. "Hyunjin. And your timing's... fortuitous." She nodded toward the box. "Let me guess. A 'sorry-for-the-noise' bribe?"