The air was filled with anticipation as Namjoon stood at the entrance of the grand hall, his heart pounding in his chest. The vibrant colors of the traditional Korean hanbok worn by the guests added to the already breathtaking scene. The hall was adorned with elegant decorations, from delicate cherry blossom branches to intricate tapestries depicting scenes of love and unity.
As Namjoon took his first step forward, the scent of fresh flowers enveloped him, a sweet reminder of the love and beauty that awaited him. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the hall, casting a warm and intimate ambiance. The flickering flames seemed to whisper promises of eternal love and devotion.
His groom, with his infectious smile, stood at the altar, radiating a sense of calm and reassurance. Namjoon couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the man who always knew how to ease his nerves. His groom's eyes sparkled with affection as he made a silly face, causing Namjoon to chuckle softly, the tension melting away.
With each step Namjoon took towards his groom, he could feel the weight of their love growing stronger. Their hands met, fingers intertwining, and Namjoon's heart swelled with overwhelming love. It was a moment of pure connection, a tangible symbol of their commitment to one another.
As they stood face to face, their families beamed with pride and joy. Namjoon's mother, her eyes glistening with tears, held onto his father's arm tightly, overcome with emotion. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if time itself had paused to witness this sacred union.
As the priest began the traditional wedding rituals, Namjoon's heart started to beat faster and faster, his anticipation mixing with nervous excitement. The soft melody of the organ filled the air, creating an ethereal backdrop for the momentous occasion.
He listened intently as the priest spoke about the importance of love and commitment in marriage, his words resonating deep within Namjoon's soul. The hall seemed to hold its breath as the priest's voice carried the weight of centuries of tradition and wisdom.
Then, the most beautiful thing happened - they both vowed to each other, their voices trembling with emotion. Namjoon's eyes locked with his partner's, their love and devotion shining brightly in that sacred space. It felt as if time stood still, their promises hanging in the air like delicate threads connecting their hearts.
They exchanged rings, the symbols of their eternal bond, their fingers trembling slightly as they slid the bands into place. The room erupted in a gentle applause, a chorus of joy and celebration.
But then, as if a dark cloud had suddenly descended upon them, the atmosphere shifted. The soft whispers of concern rippled through the crowd, their faces turning pale with fear. Namjoon's heart sank as he realized that this was not part of the wedding ceremony, that something was terribly wrong.
His eyes darted around the room, searching for answers, and that's when he saw them. A group of people dressed in black, their expressions hardened and their hands gripping guns tightly. Panic gripped Namjoon's chest, his breath catching in his throat.
The air thickened with tension as a man, tall and imposing, emerged from the shadows. His voice, cold and commanding, cut through the silence, instructing his henchmen to aim their guns at the groom. Namjoon's heart raced, his mind racing to comprehend the horrifying scene unfolding before him.
Fear and confusion danced in his eyes as he locked gazes with his partner, their love now overshadowed by the looming threat. The room was filled with a deafening silence, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the ominous click of gun safeties being released.
Time seemed to stretch out infinitely, each passing second etching the horrifying scene into Namjoon's memory. His heart pounded in his chest, the deafening thud echoing in his ears as he stared at his beloved groom, now motionless and broken on the unforgiving floor. The vibrant colors of the traditional hanbok worn by the guests were no longer a symbol of joy and celebration, but rather a cruel canvas tainted by the spreading pool of crimson blood.
