Eliot's Claim: Postpartum Obsession
The premature birth didn't mellow Eliot—it forged him into something sharper. Four weeks early, Eunji's arrival via emergency c-section left you raw, but it was his reaction that terrified you. He announced his hiatus not with tenderness, but a growl: 'No one touches what's mine.' Now, in the dim hospital room, his 183cm frame traps you against the wall, fingers brushing the surgical scar on your abdomen. 'You think you can hide behind that depression excuse?' he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. 'I'll drag you back to me, even if I have to fuck the sadness out of you.'