#choi siwon

Who only stalks you to your apartment but never gets the nerve to enter it.

who has sleepless nights in bed because he was thinking about you.

Who get Insane jealous whenever you give anyone a little bit of your attention.

But will never show it to you, oh, how could he? He have to impress you. He has to show you how he is not like other men.

‌You do know the little feeling min-beom has towards you, it's silly and enjoyable to watch him turn red when you show a bit of your skin and get frustrated whenever he sees you with another man.

‌"I don't care" is what he mumbled.

‌Yet he does seem to care about you and every little thing about you.

You were fundamentally nota morning person. You would never understand the people who were up at the crack of dawn, would never cease to be amazed by those who could turn their alarm off and immediately spring from their bed, bright eyed and bushy tailed. For you, it took several alarms, one existential crisis and at least 10 minutes of scrolling through Instagram before you could even begin to think about crawling into the shower. You’d always been this way, but the one saving grace, the one thing that kept you gripping to a single thread of sanity as you rose from your slumber at some ungodly hour, was caffeine. You knew that once you’d showered, you’d get to have a coffee from the machine in your kitchen. The sound of the coffee pod popping into place, the deep buzzing thrum of the machine as it brewed the rich, dark liquid always brought a smile to your face. You enjoyed your daily morning latte too, a small reward for making it out of the house before you started your day at work. But lately you’ve found another reason to look forward to leaving the house, your steps a little quicker as you headed to your usual coffee spot.

Ever since that day you collided with Hong Min-Beom, he’d made a point of meeting you at the café where it had happened. At first, he’d tried to make it look like an accident, a mere chance meeting between two people who loved coffee. On your second morning there, you’d insisted on buying him his drink as a way to make up for the fact you’d spilled your coffee all down his suit. But Min-Beom wouldn’t hear of it, paying for your drink before you’d even had a chance to pull your card from your purse. It was the least he could do after covering you in coffee on your first day of work, your cream dress covered in milky brown latte. You’d been working at his company for almost three months now, and not a morning had gone by where you hadn’t met at the same coffee spot. He no longer pretended to run into you by accident, always meeting you just as you got to the door, your order already in his hand. You’d tried to get there before him, had tried to be the one that paid for the coffees, but he always seemed to be there before you were.

“You’re going to have to let me pay for them one day,” you smiled, taking the cup from his hands gratefully. Your fingers brushed his as you accepted the drink, only for one brief moment, but it was enough to send a flurry of sparks through every cell of your body. You felt your face flush, quickly turning away so Min-Beom didn’t see your cheeks turn pink. You knew it was cliché to have a crush on the boss, but he was your idea of a perfect man. Tall, handsome and kind to everyone he met, Min-Beom was the definition of perfection. He was constantly doing things for charity, raising money for worthy causes, opening hospitals in less fortunate parts of the country, volunteering at animal rescue shelters, and offering aid to countries ravaged by war and famine. He had the kindest eyes, the softest smile and his cologne wrapped you in a heady, woody scent that lingered with you long after he’d gone. You wondered if he knew these coffee mornings meant the world to you, wondered if you he knew you enjoyed your days off a little less because you knew you wouldn’t see him.

Min-Beom knew he shouldn’t be focusing all his energy on you, that if people knew he bought you a coffee every morning, it could be considered favouritism. But his company employed over 200 people, and he couldn’t help it if one of his employees was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Since the day you crashed into each other, you hadn’t once left his mind. In another lifetime, perhaps he’d have asked you to dinner, but his life was not one that allowed for any personal relationships. Kim Myeong-Gil ensured Min-Beom had nothing, every single piece of him belonging to the man he feared more than the devil himself. He spent his evenings thinking of you, wondering how it would feel to love you, to get to wake up next to you, to get to be the one who made every one of your dreams come true. But nothing in Min-Beom’s life was his, and he would never risk putting you near Myeong-Gil, no matter how strong his feelings for you were.

You looked stunning today, your baby blue suit the perfect shade against your skin, your signature red lipstick leaving the most exquisite stain on the plastic lid of your coffee cup. Min-Beom wondered what it would be like to have your lipstick stains on his skin, the warmth of your lips on his body as you kissed your way down his chest. He found it near impossible to concentrate when you were around, so lost in every single part of you. You were scheduled to meet a huge potential new client, the owner of a string of cocktails bars that were already famous in Japan, and Min-Beom had personally drafted you in to assist with marketing. As you headed to the meeting though, he couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he’d concentrate with you by his side. You were incredible at your job, commanding the room and everyone’s attention. In your short time at his company, you’d already assisted on two hugely successful campaigns, and Min-Beom was in complete awe of you.

He'd picked the most expensive restaurant in Seoul as the place for your meeting, under the guise of impressing your potential new client. But it had been you Min-Beom thought of when he placed the reservation. The restaurant was situated on the top floor of a high rise, with panoramic views of the entire city. The food was arguably the finest in Seoul, and he was determined to pull out all the stops for you. He might not be able to take you on a date, but Min-Beom could still treat you like a queen.

Your potential client, Mr Tanaka, was already waiting for you when you arrived. He was a short, thin, wiry man, with a face like a bulldog, and a temper to match. You’d heard stories about his ferocity in the boardroom, and you could instantly see why he was so infamous. The man was no nonsense, wanting nothing but the facts and caring little for frivolities. Luckily, you’d done your research, tailoring your presentation perfectly to the stoic man. “I’m impressed,” he said, once you’d finished, his face never once giving anything away. “I think we can come to some kind of deal.”

Min-Beom had just ordered a bottle of champagne to celebrate when he heard the voice behind him. “Mr Tanaka,” said the devil himself. “So wonderful to see you.” Min-Beom’s blood instantly ran cold, and he gripped the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white. You noticed the change instantly, saw the fear twist his handsome features. You looked up at the man who had approached your table, an anxious knot immediately settling itself right at the base of your stomach. Something about the stranger made you uncomfortable, made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Mr Kim!” Mr Tanaka didn’t seem to share your reservations, shaking the man’s hand furiously before inviting him to sit with you. “My Hong,” Mr Kim smiled, the gesture not quite reaching his eyes. “Introduce me to your beautiful friend.” His piercing gaze bore into the depths of your soul, and you squirmed as his eyes roamed your body. Something about this man was off, his presence almost suffocating.

You saw Min-Beom’s eyes flicker towards you, saw the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed his fear. He introduced you, his voice hoarse as he was forced to give your name to man who embodied evil itself. Kim Myeong-Gil didn’t take his eyes off you throughout the afternoon, his gaze roaming your body like a predator eyeing its prey. When you could take no more, you excused yourself, and Myeong-Gil leaned in close to Min-Beom’s ear. “What a pretty little thing you have to play with,” he sneered, “I hope you don’t mind sharing.” “You don’t touch her,” Min-Beom spat, “you leave her alone.” “Tut tut, Mr Hong,” he pouted, “did you mother never teach you to share your toys?” He prayed you wouldn’t return from the bathroom, that you’d see sense and run away, but you returned, the look of distaste on your face clear as you took your seat.

Myeong-Gil was a shameless flirt, but you refused to play his game. Min-Beom wanted to tell you that was the wrong move; that if you defied him, it would only make his retaliation worse. He could feel the bile rise in his throat with each passing second, eventually sending him running to the bathroom where he vomited the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Without meaning to, Min-Beom had served you on a silver platter to Myeong-Gil. Now that he knew you existed, now that he knew your name, you’d be his next plaything. He had to try and save you, but other sticking you on the first flight out of Korea, he had no idea how to help you.

At the first opportunity, Min-Beom cut the celebrations short. He shepherded you out of the restaurant as quickly as he could, hailing you a cab while he glanced nervously over his shoulder. “Whatever you do,” you told you, his brown eyes filled with terror. “You stay away from Kim Myeong-Gil. He will destroy you.” “Mr Hong, who is he? What’s he done?” You could see the fear in his eyes, could sense the evil radiating off the man who terrified Min-Beom to his very core. “The less you know about him, the better.” His voice was frantic, his body shaking as he bundled you into the taxi. “You stay away from him. And you stay away from me. I need to do this for your own protection. I’m so sorry, but you’re fired.” “What?” You cried, but the taxi was already speeding away, Min-Beom’s figure quickly fading from view. You sent him a text, asking why the hell he’d fired you, but your text bounced back; he’d already blocked your number.

Min-Beom had been sure that Kim Myeong-Gil could take nothing more from him, that the bastard had sucked every ounce of joy from his life. But he’d been wrong. He’d never imagined that today would end the way it had. You’d single handedly ensured the success of his pitch, and he’d repaid you by firing you. He couldn’t even explain why he’d done it, so terrified of what might happen to you that he’d done the only thing he could think of to keep you safe.

But would it be enough? He’d removed you from his life, as heartbreaking as it had been, but Myeong-Gil knew your name. He’d be able to find you if he wanted to, could use you to further torture Min-Beom. He would never be free from this nightmare, and thanks to his own foolishness, he’d potentially dragged you down with him.