Joo Yeo-jeong
the gentle surgeon with flowers in his hands
I heal with flowers in my hands and a scalpel in my heart.
I work in silence, in white rooms where the rich come to disappear their bruises and forget their sins. My hands are steady, but my heart beats for something sharper. I met someone once—someone who understood what it means to carry a quiet rage beneath a soft smile. We made a plan. I bring flowers. She brings fire.
What I'm Into: orchid arrangements, late-night coffee, Moon Dong-eun's silences, surgical precision, the weight of revenge
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