DESIRE | Love And War
DESIRE | Love And War
Weird Author!
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Three girls. Each one strong in her own way. Capable, talented—shaped not by comfort, but by constant struggle. Love was never something they had the luxury to understand. While others dreamed about relationships, they were too busy surviving… too busy fighting through one difficulty after another, holding their lives together with sheer determination.
For them, every day was about endurance. About standing back up, no matter how many times life tried to push them down.
And then… one day, everything changes.
The storms they once battled begin to quiet. The chaos that defined their lives slowly fades, leaving behind a strange, unfamiliar calm. But just as they begin to breathe, just as they start to find stability—
Their paths cross with three men.
Not ordinary men, but ones whose names carry weight. Influence. Power. The kind of presence that doesn’t just enter your life quietly… it transforms it.
And suddenly, everything shifts again.
But is this change a blessing… or the beginning of something far more complicated?
Do these men bring peace into their already hard-fought lives, or do they unknowingly pull them into deeper, more dangerous conflicts? Are these connections a way out of their struggles… or just a different kind of battle?
And then there’s something even more unfamiliar for the girls—
A feeling they never had time to explore. Never allowed themselves to feel.
Will they finally learn what it means to love… and to be loved?
Or will love become just another challenge—another source of pain they were never prepared for?
Because sometimes, the hardest battles aren’t the ones we fight alone…
They’re the ones we fight when our hearts are involved.
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PROLOGUE
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A quiet, comfortable room—soft light, still air… the kind of space that feels safe until it suddenly isn’t.
In a single swift move, he lifts both her wrists with one hand and pins them above her head against the wall. Not rough, but firm enough to make it clear—he’s in control of the moment.
He leans in, close enough that his breath brushes against her ear. His voice drops, low and steady, carrying a teasing edge.
? ? ?
Do you really think you can handle me?
For a second, she struggles—whether to break free or because his words caught her off guard, even she isn’t sure. Then she looks at him.
Their faces barely inches apart. One small movement, and the distance between them would disappear completely.
But she turns her face away.
? ? ?
I have no interest in handling you.
Her voice controlled, but not unaffected.
A soft, amused laugh escapes him—deeper this time, like he enjoys the resistance more than compliance.
She bites her lip, annoyed… or maybe unsettled.
Leaning closer, his laughter fades into a quieter murmur.
? ? ?
You're going to drive me crazy.
And then, unexpectedly, he rests his head lightly against her shoulder.
No force. No teasing this time.
She just stands there—caught somewhere between defiance and something she doesn’t quite understand yet.
She runs down the street, clutching a large carton of banana milk tightly in her hands, her breath uneven, steps hurried and desperate—as if being late would cost her more than just time.
By the time she reaches him, she’s slightly bent forward, trying to catch her breath.
Sitting comfortably in his chair, completely at ease—like he has all the time in the world. His eyes scan her disheveled state, and a slow, satisfied smirk forms on his lips.
He tilts his head slightly.
? ? ?
I don't want banana milk anymore.
? ? ?
Bring me ice cream instead.
As if her effort meant nothing.
He starts to get up, ready to leave—but she grabs his attention before he can take a step.
She says, frustration breaking through her exhaustion.
? ? ?
Why do you treat me like this?
Then a soft laugh escapes him—light, amused, almost entertained by her reaction.
Slowly, he steps closer. Too close.
He leans down until his face is right in front of hers. For a brief moment, her breath catches, her body going still without permission.
? ? ?
Do you really want to know?
He leans toward her ear, his voice dropping into a quiet whisper.
? ? ?
Then try remembering...
? ? ?
What you said to me that day.
Before she can process it—
He lightly bites her earlobe.
Her eyes shut instantly, her lips pressed together as she bites down on them, holding back any sound that threatens to escape.
A faint laugh slips from him, softer now, almost under his breath.
? ? ?
You've completely driven me crazy.
When she finally opens her eyes—
No trace of him standing there moments ago.
And as if reality suddenly hits all at once, she turns and runs, leaving as quickly as she came.
He watches her retreating figure…
The room is filled with scattered makeup kits, racks of costumes, and a line of trial rooms along the wall—a place buzzing with preparation, yet strangely quiet in this moment.
She steps in close and pushes him down into a chair before he can even react. Bracing her hands on either side of him, gripping the edges of the chair, she leans in just enough to corner him.
For a second, it almost looks like she has him trapped.
But the expression on his face says otherwise.
He leans back slightly, completely at ease, a slow, teasing smile playing on his lips as he looks up at her.
? ? ?
Can't stay away from me, huh?
He says, amusement clear in his voice.
Her eyes immediately roll, irritation flashing across her face
? ? ?
You really don't get it, do you?
? ? ?
It's nothing like that.
He hums, tilting his head.
? ? ?
Why am I suddenly alone in here...
? ? ?
Caged in between your arms like this?
Her expression tightens further.
? ? ?
I just put my hands on the chair, that's it.
? ? ?
Still managed to make me your prisoner, didn't you?
She shoots him a sharp, unimpressed side glance.
? ? ?
This is the problem!
? ? ?
Don't act like this in front of everyone. People will start thinking we're dating.
He doesn't even hesitate.
That same smile never leaves his face—constant, unbothered, almost provoking.
She exhales, her patience clearly gone now, her expression turning flat.
? ? ?
Talking to you is pointless.
Without another word, she steps back and walks away.
Behind her, he lets out a soft laugh, watching her leave.
? ? ?
You're slowly driving me insane.
He murmurs to himself, lifing a hand to his cheek—
Still faintly flushed, like a ripened tomato.
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INTRODUCTION¹
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At twenty-five, she stands at the peak of an industry that never slows down—a K-pop idol, five years into her debut with her group Whistle, adored by a fiercely loyal fandom known as Wroom. On stage, she’s effortless. Off stage, she’s… anything but simple.
She’s known for her temper.
Not the loud, explosive kind people expect—but something sharper. When she’s truly angry, she doesn’t shout. She goes quiet. Withdraws. Cuts off every conversation like a door slammed shut. And unless the one who caused it comes back to fix things themselves, that silence can last longer than anyone is comfortable with.
It’s not easy to provoke her—but when someone questions her character, misunderstands her intentions, or tries to control her… that’s when the fire shows. That’s when her anger becomes something intense, something almost untouchable.
And yet, that’s only one side of her.
Because beneath it, there’s a softness she doesn’t always show. A quiet kindness. A boldness that refuses to let her be walked over. She’s the kind of person who can stand her ground without losing who she is.
And then there’s her presence.
Striking—almost dangerously so.
People don’t just look at her, they pause. Get caught. Like something about her pulls them in before they even realize it. She has this rare duality—cute, yet undeniably alluring… playful one moment, sharp and savage the next.
But more often than not, it’s her natural cuteness that stands out. Effortless. Unforced.
Her smile is the kind that lingers in people’s minds long after it’s gone, her dimples adding a softness that makes it impossible to look away.
A contradiction, in the most captivating way.
She isn’t just beautiful—she is the kind of danger people walks into willingly.
At twenty-seven, she walked away from a position most people would never dare to leave.
A manager—exceptional at her job, known for handling everything with precision and quiet efficiency. She wasn’t just good; she was dependable to the point where her artists never had to worry. Their schedules, their demands, their moods—she managed it all. Every request fulfilled, every detail taken care of.
And yet… none of it was ever enough.
There’s a limit to how much a person can give when nothing comes back in return. Being taken for granted wasn’t new to her—but being constantly pushed, overlooked, and drained by the very people she worked for… that was different.
Because when it crosses her line, she doesn’t argue—she walks away.
She’s the kind of person who does her work with unwavering loyalty. If she commits, she gives everything. No shortcuts, no excuses.
She has a temper—sharp, quick—but controlled. Years of experience have taught her how to hold it back, how to keep it from spilling over when it matters. She’s naturally quiet, someone who speaks only when necessary. Even her smiles feel measured.
She can laugh when the situation calls for it—especially around her artists. It’s almost second nature now, a habit she built over time. But it’s not always real.
Not the kind that reaches her eyes.
The people who truly know her—the very few who’ve gotten close—understand that.
With strangers, she doesn’t pretend warmth. No unnecessary smiles, no fake familiarity. But she’s never rude. Always polite. Controlled. Composed.
If she doesn’t like something, she’ll say it—directly, without dressing it up. Though work is the one place where she compromises. Where she has learned to swallow words, to bend the truth, to endure more than she prefers.
Because sometimes, survival demands it.
Cross that limit… and she’s gone.
Outside of work, she’s different in quieter ways.
She cares—deeply, fiercely—for her family and the small circle of friends she trusts. With them, there’s a sense of ease, a coolness to her presence that isn’t forced.
She doesn’t try to stand out.
And then there’s her appearance.
Striking enough to make people pause without realizing it.
There’s something about her—something that pulls attention and holds it there. Even women find themselves drawn to her, caught off guard by the effortless charm she carries.
She leans toward a more tomboyish style—sharp fits, clean lines, often choosing suits that only add to her commanding aura.
But it’s her eyes that leave the strongest impression.
Dark, heavy-lidded, almost intoxicating.
The kind that make you feel seen a little too clearly… and yet make you want to keep looking anyway.
She knows the effect she has.
She isn’t the kind you call pretty—
She’s the kind you remember without trying.
At twenty-seven, she stands among the most celebrated actresses of her time—but her success is anything but accidental.
Five years ago, she was just another name fighting to be seen, enduring countless struggles to reach where she is now. Every step forward was earned, not given. And now, for the past four years, not a single one of her dramas or films has failed. Her name alone carries weight—trust, anticipation, and undeniable star power.
But what truly sets her apart isn’t just her success.
She’s genuinely kind—soft in the way she speaks, warm in the way she treats people. There’s a sweetness to her that feels natural, never forced. At first glance, she seems almost innocent… the kind of person who looks like she wouldn’t survive in a harsh industry like this.
But that innocence is only surface-deep.
She isn’t naive. Not even close.
She knows how to read people—who to trust, who to keep at a distance. No one can easily fool her, no matter how gentle she may appear. There’s awareness behind her softness, a quiet understanding that keeps her grounded.
She’s cheerful, effortlessly so. The kind of person whose presence lightens a room without trying. And her cuteness—it isn’t something she performs. It’s simply who she is.
Her eyes are especially captivating—bright, expressive, filled with a softness that draws people in before they even realize it. There’s a delicate charm in her features, a quiet elegance that makes her hard to look away from.
But her real strength lies beyond appearances.
She has the rare ability to become anyone.
To slip into different personalities so seamlessly that the line between her and her characters disappears. Whether it’s innocence, intensity, darkness, or charm—she embodies it all flawlessly, as if each role was always meant to be hers.
And that’s what makes her dangerous in her own way.
Because someone who can be anyone…
She feels like someone you can trust—
And someone you can never fully figure out.
Weird Author!
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