#junhoe imagines

Part One: Boston Isn't Where It Started

To your family and the Koos, the engagement was a strategic triumph—a high-stakes deal sealed to secure their empire. Two dynasties, formidable and wealthy, merging into one. Soon, they wouldn’t just reach the top—they’d claim it. And the rest would fall in line. No rivals would remain.

But for Junhoe, this was something else entirely. This was the moment he’d longed for. You—his bride, his soon-to-be wife. And him—your groom, your future husband. 

He kept returning to that night. Maybe it was his favorite memory of you—your head on his shoulder as the quartet played a slower piece, your feet moving in sync across the glinting floor, dancing like the rest of the world had fallen away.

It felt perfect. Untouchable. Why did it all have to fall apart?

Junhoe’s face was the last thing you saw before darkness took you. You were eight.

You were in a sterile hospital room—white sheets, blinding light. Your mother stood near the bed, arms crossed, listening as the doctor said, “Food poisoning.”

You’d thrown up on the floor just as you woke, but she merely glanced down, composed as ever yet clearly annoyed. “Not on my Prada heels,” she muttered, as if you’d spilled juice on her favorite rug.

After a week, you came home to your bedroom blooming with color—balloons, bouquets, and cards from classmates and teachers. One read, Get well soon. It was from Yejin. Another, scrawled in messy handwriting, read, I thought you died.

It could only have come from no one but Yejin’s little brother, Junhoe.

You were too young to understand why you were arranged to marry someone like him. But despite your naivety, you could sense when someone disliked you—and he certainly did.

Yejin never visited you again after that incident. 

At school, Junhoe ignored you—except on the days he chose not to. His shoulder brushed past you once, knocking your books loose without an apology. One time in the canteen, he made you trip. Your tray hit the floor, food splattering everywhere as laughter broke out. You’d never felt more humiliated.

You began eating alone after that, beneath a tree outside the school grounds—away from everyone, away from him. 

You were afraid of him. Everyone was.

You’d seen it happen—Junhoe rising from his seat, pen in hand, and driving it into your classmate’s ear. The boy had been kicking his chair. That was all. 

The room erupted in screams. No one moved. No one did anything to help. No one dared.

Junhoe was never expelled, no matter how many times the school called his parents. When your family name is etched into the building’s foundation, rules are for everyone else. Not for him. Not for someone like Junhoe.

It was your tenth birthday and no one came.

The balloons sagged. The food went cold. The decorations—meticulously arranged—meant nothing. Even the mascot, paid to stay, danced for no one.

Your parents were somewhere in Europe. Another business trip. Another absence.

Junhoe was your only guest.

He handed you a box covered in cartoon stickers and tied with a shiny ribbon. You opened it, expecting something kind. Inside lay a dead bird. Its feathers stiff. Its eyes glassy.

You ran to your room and locked yourself inside, sobbing. When your parents finally returned, you told your father you would never marry him.

You were twelve when a fire broke out at the Koo family’s mansion.

You pleaded with your parents not to send you to Junhoe’s house while they were away on another month-long business trip. You said you could take care of yourself. But they didn’t listen. They never did.

Your father kissed your cheek, told you to be a good girl, and to try to get close to him. Then he left with your mother.

You stayed in the guest room the whole time, avoiding Junhoe completely, careful not to cross paths. The maids brought meals to your door.

Like your parents, Junhoe’s were also away. Yejin had left for Singapore to begin university.

It was only the two of you in that big, hollow house.

You didn’t know what time it was when the smell of smoke woke you. Your throat burned. Your eyes were heavy-lidded as you tried to locate the source.

Smells like fire, was all you could think before the coughing started. The air grew thick and hot. You scrambled out of bed, still in your pajamas, and opened your bedroom door—only to find flames creeping along the first-floor hallway.

I need to get out of here, flashed through your mind, a primal instinct kicking in. You ran toward the staircase, but stopped at the doorway across from yours.

Junhoe’s room.

“Has he gotten out?” you whispered, just as chaos erupted downstairs—panicked voices, someone calling you and Junhoe’s name.

“They’re still upstairs!”

“How can we get through? The stairs are now on fire!”

“Someone save them!”

“The firefighters are coming!”

Without thinking twice, you ran straight into Junhoe’s room, where he sat on the bed—unmoving, staring into nothingness.

You grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the window. Flames were already licking the walls. He didn’t hesitate—he took your hand as you both climbed out onto the roof.

The firefighters arrived just in time, lowering you down with a ladder.

You didn’t say a word to each other afterward. Even as the medics treated you, only your eyes spoke—watching the mansion burn into the night.

That fire was the last time you saw Junhoe.

Your parents told you the Koos had moved elsewhere while the mansion underwent renovation. It hadn’t been completely destroyed, but the damage would keep them away for months—long enough for scaffolding to rise over the charred hallways and for workers to restore everything to its former glory.

You wondered why Junhoe stopped attending school altogether. Days blurred into weeks and weeks into months.

As life returned to normal, you tried not to dwell on his absence—and what you might have shared with him that night of the fire.

Or so you thought.

You didn’t notice how long the Koos had been gone, even though the mansion had been finished for months. It looked exactly as it had before the fire—as if nothing had ever happened.

With their return came Junhoe’s reappearance at school, much to everyone’s surprise.

What startled you most was how different he seemed—like he’d undergone some kind of transformation.

His eyes were brighter. He smiled often, laughed easily, and always seemed to find ways to be near you—watching, waiting, wanting your attention.

You weren’t sure what to make of this new Junhoe.

You used to be scared of him—used to stay out of his way. But he never stopped showing up.

The new seating arrangement made him your seatmate. He greeted you every morning at the lockers, waved in the hallways, and joined you for lunch. Since you lived close to each other, he’d carry your books and ride home with you after every class.

Slowly, without you even realizing it, the walls you’d built around him began to crumble. 

By the time you reached high school, the two of you were inseparable.

One of you always saved a seat for the other whenever someone was late to class. Junhoe would tease you about your notes during lessons and steal your snacks during breaks. In P.E., he made a habit of turning every activity into a personal contest. He’d block your path during relay drills, toss the ball just out of reach, or lift you off the ground mid-play until you swatted at him to stop.

Weekends meant shopping trips in Apgujeong or flights with your families to Jeju, Tokyo, or Paris—always first class, at times private jets. Junhoe trailed behind you through boutiques, arms full of your bags, teasing you for taking too long to decide. But he never complained. He was always patient when it came to you.

You spent hours at the Koos’ mansion, studying side by side in the library or watching movies in their private theater—the screen glow soft against his face as he leaned in to whisper something that made you laugh.

Sometimes, you stayed the night. Sometimes, he did at yours. You slept in separate rooms, at least at first. But later, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d text him. He’d sneak in with earphones in, watching movies on his laptop while you lay next to him. Once you drifted off, he’d crash on the sofa to sleep.

There were days when neither of you wanted to go home. Junhoe would ask the chauffeur to drive with no destination in mind, the city rolling by unnoticed.

The car sometimes stopped by the deserted river, and the two of you would sneak out with cans of soda that weren’t always soda. One night, Junhoe handed you a cigarette, daring you to try it. You coughed on the first inhale, and he laughed so hard he nearly dropped his lighter.

Junhoe spoiled you without reason. 

During late-night study sessions, he’d stand behind your chair, rubbing your shoulders whenever you complained about exams. He bought you things you didn’t need—perfume, jewelry, the newest gadgets—just to see you smile.

Both your parents couldn’t have been more pleased with the progress of your relationship. There was no label—could be friendship, could be something more. But in their world, labels were irrelevant. What mattered was the future. And in that future, marriage between their children wasn’t a choice—it was an expectation.

You were both still young, but you’d always known Junhoe’s reserved devotion was yours alone. Reliable, thoughtful—he could be the sweetest boy to you. Yet it was his protectiveness that made you ask if he’d only learned to hide that part of himself better—the part of him that once filled you with fear.

As an only child from the kind of family you had, you learned early how to stay out of trouble. You studied hard, treated your teachers and classmates with respect, and made sure never to bring shame to your parents’ name. You never really had the chance to form a circle of friends—Junhoe was the only one who ever came close. That was how your parents raised you.

“Never get attached to those beneath you,” your mother once said before your very first day of school. “Your destiny is different from theirs. They will never be part of your world.”

That was the day you learned to rely only on yourself.

There were times when students at school made fun of you or picked fights, but you always brushed it off. You knew they’d stop once they realized who you were—who your family was. You could’ve used that power if you wanted to: have someone expelled, blacklisted, fired, even evicted. But you never did. You didn’t want anyone thinking you were weak—or that you needed to hide behind your family’s wealth.

So when you heard someone was spreading a rumor about you, you dismissed it. You didn’t even bother to find out what it was about.

But when the rumor reached Junhoe, he didn’t let it slide.

You thought Junhoe was just late that day. It was math class. The teacher had just started his lesson when the class began to stir. Phones lit up. Everyone was distracted. You frowned. The teacher tried to get the class to settle, but the chatter continued—for a moment, all eyes seemed to land on you, until the classroom door swung open and Junhoe stepped in.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, sliding into the seat beside you, wearing his usual gummy smile.

Your classmates turned back to the board. The teacher carried on, pretending nothing had happened. But you knew better. He’d done something before walking in.

He looked perfect, as always—uniform neat, hair tidy—but his hands gave him away. Tense shoulders, knuckles slightly red.

“Did you hurt him?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.

Pen hovering over paper, Junhoe’s gaze met yours. He answered slowly, “Would it matter if I did?” 

You said nothing. Maybe you were afraid of the answer. Or maybe, deep down, you didn’t want to stop him.

The rumor was gone by the next day. No one spoke of it again. Even the boy who started it was gone. He transferred schools the following week.

Junhoe didn’t just protect you anymore—after that, he controlled the air around you. And you let him. 

It felt good, being the one he’d go that far for.

Everyone at school knew what happened to that boy. No one wanted to be next.

The teachers gave you both too much freedom. Whatever Junhoe wanted, Junhoe got. A seat. A grade changed. A schedule rearranged. A complaint that was never put on record.

He only had to ask—his name did most of the work.

But being the center of his world could also feel like being trapped in a cage.

Junhoe noticed everything—who talked to you, who stared too long. You were beautiful, so it was inevitable that someone would try to hit on you—whether it was a senior from another class, the barista at the café near campus, or a stranger on the street when you were out together. He’d handled them with polite hostility—an unspoken threat behind a glare that could pierce anyone.

Junhoe told you which parties to skip, which people to avoid. When you stayed late for group projects, you never asked him to go home first—you knew he wouldn’t.

He’d wait for you, every time, and make sure you got home safely. All the way to your doorstep.

People adjusted themselves around him.

Conversations dulled when he entered the room. Teachers paused before addressing him. Boys stopped messaging you. People didn’t look at you with envy anymore, but with caution. In their eyes, you were something both fragile and dangerous.

No matter where you went, Junhoe always had to come along. But there were times when you’d lie—just to be alone. You’d say you were with your father or mother. He never questioned it; your family was sacred ground, off-limits. You knew he wouldn’t ask them, not even to confirm a suspicion. So you escaped—to places Junhoe never touched: a small spa, a secluded park, a café where you could read and disappear.

It was the birthday celebration of Junhoe’s close friend, Joowan, held in Gangnam—at one of those high-end spots where upper-class sons and daughters liked to hang out: Club Echelon. Joowan had rented out the entire venue for the night. Loud, thumping techno pulsed from the center floor, spun by a famous DJ flown in from Berlin, surrounded by dancers and flashing lights.

The place was swarming with youth, all having a good time. Waitresses glided between tables, serving endless rounds of drinks and lavish food. The air reeked of smoke, perfume, and expensive liquor. It didn’t matter that most of them were underage—as long as they had money. The staff knew better than to look too closely.

In the VIP lounge, Joowan had his arm around his girlfriend, laughing at something only they understood. The group was loud—snapping selfies, shouting over the music, clinking glasses. A few were smoking. You and Junhoe sat with them. He was in it—raising his glass, tossing jokes across the table. You stayed close, sipping your drink, nodding along, laughing when he did.

But after a while, the noise became too much. It made your head hurt. You set your glass down.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, your voice barely audible over the bass.

Junhoe looked at you—the kind of look that always asked where.

You smiled, reassuring. “Just need a minute,” you mouthed.

He didn’t reply, only nodded once before turning his attention back to the conversation at the table.

You slipped out of the lounge, past the velvet ropes, into the hallway. The bass softened behind you, replaced by the muffled thud of music. You followed the pale light seeping from the balcony exit and pushed the door open.

The city stretched wide below you—Gangnam’s skyline glittered under the night.

The air was cool, cleaner than the smoke-filled lounge you’d left behind. You exhaled, finally able to breathe again. For a while, you just stood there, fingers brushing the glass railing, watching headlights snake along the streets.

Back at the lounge, Junhoe was half-listening to Joowan talk. His gaze kept returning to your empty seat.

Minutes passed. Then a few more.

Joowan nudged him. “She ditched you already?”

Junhoe said nothing, checking his watch.

“Where are you going?” Joowan asked as Junhoe stood up.

“Outside,” was all he said, walking away before Joowan could ask again.

You were still alone on the balcony, arms folded against the cold. Somewhere below, laughter rose from the crowd spilling onto the street. You were content with the silence—until the door creaked open behind you.

You didn’t turn right away.

You heard the faint flick of a lighter. Smoke drifted through the air.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a boy—probably your age. Dark hair fell messily over his forehead, his designer jacket half unzipped, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked drunk, his movements slow and careless.

He exhaled toward the sky before glancing sideways, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. He seemed to search his memory, trying to place you—someone he might have known, someone he ought to greet. It didn’t come to him right away, but then it hit him. You noticed it too—the way his gaze lingered a little too long.

“You’re her,” he said finally, almost to himself.

You frowned. “Sorry?”

He smirked. The world was indeed small. He had only seen you in photos, heard about you from relatives and schoolmates—the only daughter from the _____ family, arranged to marry the Koos’ second son since you were seven.

“The Koo girl… so you’re the real thing, huh?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Do I know you?”

He shrugged, taking another drag. “Not really. I’m Choi San. Hanyoung Academy. Heard stories.”

“What stories?” you asked, not really expecting an answer worth hearing.

“About you and your boyfriend.”

You didn’t react. He laughed quietly to himself, flicking ash into the night. “Don’t worry, nothing scary.”

“I’m not worried,” you told him.

“You two are kind of famous, you know? Perfect pair, everyone says.” There was mockery in his tone, thinly veiled. “Always together. Always been that way.”

“You’re drunk,” you said flatly.

He grinned, not denying it. “Why are you here by yourself anyway?”

You turned away, ready to leave, when the balcony door opened again.

Junhoe.

He stopped at the threshold, scanning the space. His eyes went from you to the stranger beside you. His jaw tightened immediately.

“You’ve been gone a while,” he said, voice low.

You opened your mouth, but San spoke first. “The boyfriend?” he asked, though the question was rhetorical. He already knew.

Junhoe didn’t respond. He just stared coldly.

San was nothing but amused. He wasn’t threatened. “Relax. We were just talking.”

You could feel the tension constricting the space on the balcony.

“Let’s go,” Junhoe said to you quietly, not breaking eye contact with him.

San tipped his cigarette toward you in a half-salute. “Nice meeting you.”

Junhoe tried to mask his displeasure as he turned you toward the door, his hand clutching yours, squeezing tighter the farther you went inside. 

The noise of the party faded into a dull throb behind you as Junhoe walked fast, his hand clamped firmly around your wrist. You stumbled to match his long strides, your heels scraping against the marble as he dragged you past the VIP lounge without looking back.

“Junhoe, stop,” you hissed under your breath, glancing at the people you passed. Some of them looked away quickly, others whispered—but Junhoe didn’t seem to care.

“Junhoe, you’re hurting me.”

Still nothing. The veins in his forearm stood out beneath his sleeve, his hold unrelenting.

“I need to use the restroom,” you blurted, trying to twist your wrist free. He didn’t react. “Junhoe, please—I said I need to use the restroom!”

Junhoe stopped in his tracks, causing you to bump into him. He turned toward the corridor leading to the restrooms, breathing sharply through his nose, and without a word, pulled you along again.

When you reached the door marked Ladies, you froze. “Junhoe—”

He shoved the door open. The soft chatter inside died instantly. A few girls near the mirrors blinked in confusion before realizing who it was. Koo Junhoe.

Every inch of his posture radiated authority.

“Out,” he said, calm but cutting.

They hesitated only for a second before obeying, mumbling excuses as they brushed past you. One of the staff tried to follow, but Junhoe’s voice came again, firm. “No one comes in. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” 

The door shut behind you both. Only silence remained in the restroom.

You stepped back slowly, moving toward the sinks, your back nearly grazing the counter. Your heart hammered so hard it felt like it might echo. Junhoe reached behind him and turned the lock. The click sounded final.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice brittle, almost a whisper.

He said nothing at first, hand still on the lock, shoulders rigid beneath the dark fabric of his suit. When he turned, you braced for fury. But it didn’t come—at least, not yet. The muscles in his face were drawn tight. You felt it—one wrong move, and he might snap.

“You think I wouldn’t notice?” he said, voice strained. “You disappear for ten minutes, and I find you with some guy I don’t even know.”

You started to protest, but it came out jagged. “I wasn’t—he just—”

Junhoe stepped closer, his cologne mixing with the sterile scent of the restroom. “Do you have any idea what that looks like?”

Your throat tightened. “It’s not what you think.”

He laughed once under his breath—humorless. “Then tell me what I’m supposed to think.”

“You’re being crazy, Junhoe,” you said, voice breaking.

“Crazy?” he repeated. “You think I’m crazy? You… you make me crazy.”

His gaze bore into you. “I bet you like the attention,” he continued, the words almost accusing.

Without thinking, the answer came out of your throat. “What if I do?”

He grabbed your wrist, yanking you close, his breath sharp against your skin. “Say that again.”

Adrenaline flared. You tore your arm free. Your palm struck his face once. Twice. Harder. Then your fists pounded his chest, again and again, each blow raw and clumsy with the sobs tearing out of you.

Junhoe didn’t shove you back or grab your hands. He stayed right there as the hits kept coming—until your arms quivered and you finally stopped.

Junhoe took the chance to pull you in by the shoulders, easing you down and letting your forehead rest against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his hands settling lightly on your back. He felt your sobs shake your body against his. Slowly, he lifted a hand, sliding it under your chin to tilt your face toward him. His fingers brushed the damp strands of hair from your cheeks, catching the streaks of mascara left by your tears.

You avoided his gaze, but his words drew you in. 

“You’re the only one who can do this to me.”

You couldn’t tell if it was his lips or yours that moved first. What began soft and searching quickly became urgent, hungry. The tension between you igniting in every touch. You let him lift you, setting you swiftly on the edge of the cold sink. You gasped when his tongue traced the edges of your mouth before colliding with yours. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as he let out a low groan. His kisses grew rougher, trailing from your lips down to your neck. A moan escaped you as your fingers tangled in his hair, holding on like it was the only thing keeping you steady.

The air in the restroom felt stifling—heavy with heat.

His mouth was inches from your chest when you moved—reaching for his belt. But he caught your hands before you could.

“You’re all I care about right now,” he said, breath ragged. You watched his hands disappear beneath your dress, his fingers subtly shaking as he pulled your lingerie down, careful not to rush. He drank in the sight of you before sliding the fabric into his pocket. He couldn’t afford to look away.

Junhoe dropped to his knees and lifted the hem of your dress. A soft gust of air brushed along your legs, rising toward your cunt. He started with your thighs, kissing his way down before burying his face between them. You felt exposed, yet strangely safe—your heartbeat loud in your ears, your pulse quickening. You covered your mouth as he began to lick your clit, but he could still hear every hitch of your breath. One of your hands gripped the porcelain sink, grounding yourself as Junhoe’s mouth switched from licking to sucking. Your body shivered, almost tipping off the edge, but he kept you pressed close in his arms. You could feel your pussy drenched as Junhoe inserted a finger with careful precision, adjusting to your every little reaction. It stung at first, but your body adjusted naturally, responding without thought. The intensity built as he increased his pace inside you, his finger and tongue moving in harmony until your body gave in completely, trembling hard against him as you climaxed.

Junhoe cleaned your juices from his finger, licking his lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“I’m gonna buy you the most beautiful ring. Let’s get engaged,” he said, his fervent look melting into excitement, sweat beading on his forehead.

You couldn’t help the small, messy smile tugging at your lips, your hair tousled, cheeks pink.

“I’d love that,” you murmured, reaching up to thread your hands behind his neck, drawing him closer.

Junhoe held back the urge to kiss you once more.

Your engagement with Junhoe was held at a private estate turned event hall, reserved only for Seoul’s elite. You’d heard that even foreign dignitaries had to wait months to book it. The hall had floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the Han River and chandeliers that glittered like falling stars, while a string quartet played classical pieces—not just for the two of you, but for the exclusive guests: chaebol families, CEOs, heirs, and heiresses.

You wore Dior—silk white and custom. Junhoe stood beside you in Armani, black on black, his hand resting lightly on your waist as both of you smiled for the flashing cameras. You flaunted the diamond on your ring finger at the photographers’ request—an oval-cut, flawless stone set in platinum, encircled by a halo of smaller diamonds that drew gasps and envious stares from the crowd. Even the Koos’ matriarch had leaned in to whisper, “He chose well.”

Across the hall, you could hear bursts of laughter. Families mingled. The Koos’ executives tapped glasses with your father, while your mother accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server and nodded as Yejin and Junhoe’s mother spoke. To anyone watching, it looked like happiness—like everyone was thrilled their children were getting married. But really, it was all for show. A business contract.

Not for Junhoe—or you. It was never about business, especially not for him.

Later, when the flashes faded and the crowd dispersed, both families gathered around you both.

“You’ll start living together after graduation,” Junhoe’s mother said smoothly, as if discussing business logistics. “The penthouse in Seocho is ready. You’ll find it comfortable.”

“I actually thought we’d do that right after the engagement,” Junhoe said, trying not to sound too excited.

The parents exchanged knowing looks, a few chuckles slipping out.

“There’s no need to rush,” your mother said. “The wedding will follow once you’re both of age.” 

The others nodded in agreement.

Junhoe’s father smiled, a practiced thing. “Junhoe will spend the summer in London for a preparatory program. He’s been accepted into King’s College—Business Management. As the next heir, he needs to understand global markets.”

You glanced at Junhoe. He didn’t look surprised. His parents had planned it years ago. Every step of his future was mapped out.

His father added, “Even if he leaves for London, the penthouse will stay under your care.”

“And you?” Yejin asked, her gaze shifting to you. “Have you decided where to study?”

You only smiled, unsure what to say. Your father spoke for you.

“She’s still deciding,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “But she’s been looking into programs abroad—communications, literature, things like that.”

Junhoe’s hand held yours, his thumb brushing against your ring. You knew what he wanted you to say. He wanted you near him. And that meant going to London.

But you stayed silent.

“While Junhoe’s in London, she’ll start scouting universities—maybe in the States first,” your mother said.

Junhoe smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s good,” his mother nodded. “There’s plenty of time, darling. I’m sure you two will find ways to see each other.”

Junhoe didn’t let go of your hand, but he didn’t look at you either. You could feel his frustration, held in check. You knew he couldn’t do anything about it. Not this time

Junhoe brushed his lips against yours the moment his boarding was announced. You stood together by the gate, suitcases ready. His flight to London would leave first—yours to Boston a few hours later.

“Text me when you land,” he reminded you. “And every day after that. Don’t make me worry.”

You laughed under your breath. “You sound like my father.”

“I’m worse,” he said with a grin. “I’ll come see you as soon as I get a break. Promise.”

He took your hand and kissed the back of it, like he didn’t want to leave you yet.

“Why can’t you just come to London with me?” he said softly. “I need to see you every day.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

It didn’t surprise you when you saw the bouquet of ivory roses waiting on the bedside table. Junhoe had planned it—of course he had.

You checked in at the Fairmont a little past four. It would be your home for the next six weeks, just enough time to tour the universities on your list and attend short programs arranged by your school. The schedule matched Junhoe’s prep course in London, something your parents had clearly coordinated, though his stay would be longer—eight weeks.

Your room was on the twelfth floor. Bright and spacious, with cream-colored walls and gold accents. A velvet armchair sat near the tall windows, beside a writing desk stocked with stationery you’d never use. Outside, the city was bathed in golden sun.

The roses were elegant—long-stemmed, fresh, and arranged in a crystal vase. A small card rested beside them.

For your first night in Boston. Eight weeks is too long, so don’t forget me. — J

You read his note once more before leaning in to smell the roses, when a quick wave of dizziness passed through you. Jet lag hit you all at once. The flight had been long, and your body felt heavy. You debated whether to order dinner or just crawl into bed and sleep—until you remembered you hadn’t updated Junhoe since landing.

You reached for your phone and saw one missed call, along with three texts from Junhoe—each sent at different times, each carrying his voice in your head.

I’m here. I miss you already.

I’ve checked the flight status, looks like you arrived on time. Tell me you’re safe.

Call me when you get to the hotel.

You dialed Junhoe’s number after reading his texts, half-lying on the bed—your back against the mattress, legs dangling off the edge. The phone rang in your hand, the screen glowing on your cheek.

No answer.

You peeked at the ceiling, waiting. The roses sat on the bedside table, their scent barely reaching you.

The ringing continued, but you didn’t notice when your eyes began to close. You started to doze off, still holding the phone as you waited for him to pick up.

Boston air in summer was warm and breezy, carrying the scent of brick, fresh coffee, and engine smoke. The streets were lined with brownstones and trees thick with green leaves, as students, tourists, and locals moved through the city that morning.

All of it passed through your view from the car window. You liked how it felt—lively, but not overwhelming.

As the car made its way to your first campus stop, Junhoe came to mind. You’d spoken to him earlier that morning, just after waking from a long sleep and seeing his text:

Sorry I couldn’t pick up. Got held up at a dinner with some of the faculty and other guests. You should’ve eaten something before falling asleep. Hope you’re resting well.

Junhoe answered your call during his London campus tour, with footsteps and distant voices reverberating around him. It was only his first day, and his schedule was already packed—orientation, lectures, dinners. He told you how summer there felt colder than back home. He’d expected a roommate, but his parents had arranged a single room for him, with a clear view of the Thames.

He hadn’t forgotten to ask about you, of course—your flight, your hotel, and what your first day in Boston would look like.

“I know you like tea more than coffee,” he said, breath slightly uneven as he walked. “Near the campus you’re checking out, there’s a place called Tatte Bakery. They have great tea and macarons—you’d love it. Grab a bite there between tours. But don’t just snack on sweets. Make sure you eat something more filling too.”

You could picture him saying it, half-distracted by the guide ahead of him, still making time to worry about you. Typical Junhoe. Always watching, even from across the world.

It felt like some kind of normalcy in your relationship with Junhoe. For once, you didn’t need to use your parents as an excuse to be on your own. You liked this side of him—caring for you without being overbearing.

But this could only be temporary. If it weren’t for the distance, for the time apart while preparing for college, you might never have had this space.

So you decided to just enjoy it—six weeks in Boston, all for yourself. Six weeks without Junhoe.

In the weeks that followed, you spent most of your time moving from one campus to another—Harvard, MIT, Boston University. The tours all blended together: ivy walls, quiet libraries, the hum of summer classes. You pictured yourself in each school—wandering hallways, studying, reading—though none of it felt entirely real yet. You asked questions, gathered brochures, and took photos.

Between stops, you scrolled through Junhoe’s messages—quick check-ins, simple updates. The two of you were still adjusting to the time difference, but you still managed to keep each other in the loop.

By late afternoon, you were walking through the busy streets near Cambridge, drawn by the smell of food from a corner stall. You bought a paper cup of clam chowder and a grilled chicken skewer. For someone who grew up with a personal chef and fine dining, the street food tasted surprisingly good.

After eating, you went into a thrift store just around the corner, where the smell of old fabric and wood polish clung to everything. You browsed through faded coats, silk scarves, and chipped ceramics—until a blush-pink jewelry box caught your eye. Its edges were worn, but it felt perfect for your earrings and rings. You bought it. 

Then you started craving something sweet—macarons. Junhoe’s suggestion came to mind. Tatte Bakery was nearby. When you arrived, it was bustling with students and tourists, the chatter mixing with the hiss of coffee machines. You were only planning to grab something to go.

Just as you reached the entrance, someone bumped into you—coffee spilling across your dress.

“Shit—sorry!”

You both looked up and froze.

He spoke first. “The Koo girl?” he asked, blinking as he tilted his head.

You recognized him instantly—the guy from the balcony at Club Echelon. You remembered the face, but not the name.

You exhaled sharply and reached into your bag, searching for something to clean the mess. He offered you the napkins in his hand.

“Didn’t see you,” he said, voice casual.

You ignored the gesture, pulling out your own handkerchief and dabbing at the coffee stain. Thankfully, your dress was dark.

“I didn’t expect to run into you here. You checking out schools too?”

“Leave me alone,” was all you said before walking inside, not bothering to glance back.

Behind you, he only smirked and walked off.

Junhoe’s days in London were measured, mechanical—almost. Weekdays began with lectures at the university, followed by strategy workshops and business simulations that ran into the afternoon. Evenings were usually spent in study groups, huddled over laptops and case analyses in the dorm lounge or the nearby café. Some nights, the discussions stretched so late he would skip dinner entirely and settle for black coffee or a granola bar from the vending machine.

Junhoe kept up—for the most part. Prep school was nothing like high school. He couldn’t bend the rules, couldn’t talk his way into better grades or rely on teachers to look the other way. Everything here ran on order and merit. It frustrated him at first, but he adapted. He was still sharp, still capable, and he studied harder than anyone else—if only to maintain appearances. The future heir couldn’t afford to falter. 

He got along with people easily, almost effortlessly, but he never let his guard down. There was no need for dominance here, no one to impress with power or reputation.

Still, his focus was divided. Half of him sat in that classroom. The other half was with you, somewhere across the Atlantic.

When his classmates went out for drinks to escape the grind, he would join them occasionally—but even then, his mind was elsewhere. He’d check his phone between talks, between sips—reading your texts, looking at the photos you’d sent, and stepping out just to listen to your voice notes. You two spoke on the phone every day—usually short calls, but on certain days, the conversations ran longer, and even if Junhoe was exhausted or running on little sleep, he still wanted to hear your voice.

Weekends weren’t much different for Junhoe either. He spent most of them reviewing case studies, attending guest lectures, and showing up at networking events his father arranged—trading polite smiles with people he couldn’t care less about. Sometimes he went for brunch with classmates at The Black Penny near Covent Garden, but afterward, he’d walk along the Thames to be alone and have a moment of quiet. Calls from home were brief, nothing like yours. You were his only true breather, and the gym was the other place where he could fully let go.

And yet, despite it all—your regular check-ins and his packed calendar—Junhoe was restless. He couldn’t see you, couldn’t know for certain what you were doing or where you were. So he found another way. 

Through someone else. Someone he hired.

The distance left too much room for uncertainty. And Junhoe never did well with uncertainty.

It was one evening during your second week in Boston. Junhoe sat at his desk, textbooks open, notes spread across the table, preparing for his first test the next day—a short assessment on the week’s lectures. His pen moved methodically across the page when his phone buzzed. The screen lit up with a familiar name: “M. Lee.”

“Report,” he said, answering without hesitation.

“Yes, sir,” came the reply. “She left the hotel in the morning and continued visiting campuses around the city.”

Junhoe nodded. “And after that?”

“She had lunch at a street food stall near Cambridge, then stopped by a thrift store. She went to Tatte Bakery after to order takeout—nothing unusual. No one interacted with her in a concerning way.”

“Anything else?”

There was a pause. The reporter considered mentioning the boy who’d bumped into you at the bakery but decided it seemed inconsequential. “No, sir. Nothing else.”

Junhoe ended the call and returned to his studies, forcing his attention back to the page.

It was your fourth week in Boston. Two more to go.

Time dragged during campus visits and program sessions, but flew when you were out exploring—dining, shopping, chasing views. You’d grown used to it—the updates, the routine calls, being apart from Junhoe. The way you both fell into the cadence of a long-distance relationship. 

But all these wouldn’t last. 

The program’s second phase began that Monday—a joint workshop bringing together students from different tracks. You arrived early, a paper cup of tea in hand, scanning the room for a seat near the back. Every face was new—until one wasn’t.

He sauntered in, looking completely unbothered, dressed in black from head to toe—slacks, shirt, and rimmed eyeglasses.

You blinked, unsure if it was really him—the balcony guy who had spilled coffee on your dress weeks ago. He didn’t notice you at first, but as the instructor began assigning seats, he stepped through the rows, taking in each tag and face before stopping where you sat.

He didn’t approach. He just snickered, as if he’d clocked your presence and was saving it for later.

The workshop began: icebreakers, group tasks, a few awkward laughs. You stayed fixed on the worksheet in front of you, refusing to glance his way. But during the break, he made his move.

“Well, hello there,” he greeted, leaning against the table beside you. “Koo girl’s in Boston. Have you decided what you’re majoring in?”

You looked up, unimpressed. “Stop calling me that. I have a name.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Yeah, I know. Just thought I’d say hi.”

You didn’t respond—just took a sip of your tea.

“I might take Political Science at Tufts,” he said, like you’d asked. He leaned forward a fraction, watching you with keen interest. “Congrats, by the way.”

“On what?”

“Your engagement,” he remarked, glancing at your diamond ring. “Word travels fast.”

Your grip tightened around the cup. “Right.”

He let it drop with a quiet smile, the mischief gone from his face. “Well… see you around, _____.”

He called you by your name for the first time before leaving. And suddenly, his name surfaced in your mind: San. Choi San.

Turned out, he was right. You would be seeing him around. 

The joint workshop ran daily, and San was always there—always arriving just before the session began.

You tried to steer clear of him.

His presence grated more than you cared to admit. He didn’t hover or push, but he’d always turn up beside you during breaks—dropping sly comments about the lecture, asking questions he clearly didn’t need answers to. Sometimes, he’d tease you about how serious you looked during one of the discussions, and you could tell he was only trying to gauge your reaction.

You kept your responses short. Curt. Neutral. You were cautious—not just because of who San was, but because of who might be watching. So far, Junhoe hadn’t said anything during your check-ins that might make you uneasy, and you made sure it stayed that way.

You started seeing San in places beyond the workshop: by the admin building, at Tatte Bakery, even at optional lectures you hadn’t expected him to attend. It was becoming harder to avoid him.

One afternoon, you spotted him again—outside Tatte, at a table near the edge of the patio. He was smoking, coffee cooling beside him, eyes on the laptop screen propped in front of him. He didn’t look surprised to see you when you took the vacant table across from him. If anything, he barely looked up.

“Are you following me?” you asked, straight to the point.

San glanced over, eyebrows raised. “Me?” he said, laughing. “I’m not the type.”

“You’ve been here every time I come.”

“Or maybe it’s just a good café,” he said dryly.

You were about to leave your seat, already thinking of ordering food back at the hotel, when San commented.

“You need to lose a little, you know? I don’t bite,” he muttered, smiling—but not kindly. “Doesn’t hurt to talk to someone who isn’t your fiancé.”

He didn’t wait for your reply. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and left his coffee untouched before heading off.

San didn’t pester you after that. No joking around, no glances your way, no offhand comments during workshops. He showed up, did the work, and left. It was almost clinical. And somehow, that made it worse.

You hadn’t expected to feel bad. But you did. It was the way he left you at Tatte—like he’d already decided something about you. That you were someone uptight. Someone who let herself be steered by her fiancé. And maybe he wasn’t wrong.

You were leaving the studio late that day, arms full of prints and notes, when the door swung open ahead of you. San stood there, holding it without a word.

“T-thanks,” you managed, stepping through.

He was supposed to head in the opposite direction, but you called out, stopping him mid-step.

“I’m sorry about the other day—I didn’t mean to accuse you. I just… I wasn’t sure.”

He paused. “No, you’re cool.”

“Honestly, I get it,” San said, turning fully toward you. “It must be exhausting for you.”

As the days passed, you started talking to him more freely. San made the space feel lighter—he didn’t pry, didn’t ask about Junhoe or your families. Instead, he talked about Boston, the program, and his chosen college major.

During the break after a group presentation, you found yourselves walking out of the building together. The hallway still buzzed with leftover chatter as you headed toward the glass doors.

“I wanted to go straight into law,” San admitted. “But my parents thought political science might open doors to politics.”

“Public service?” you asked.

“And that,” he said with a shrug, like it was a compromise he’d already made peace with.

San paused at the echo of footsteps on your heels, followed by a small group of students laughing as they exited the building.

“What about you?” he asked. “Still undecided?”

You hesitated. “I’m thinking—journalism.”

He glanced at you, his expression only curious. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“I’m not,” you sighed. “It’s just… I don’t know. I wanted to go out there and explore. But I don’t know if that’s enough.”

San didn’t answer right away. He pushed the glass doors open, letting the afternoon light spill in. “Sometimes it’s not about being sure,” he stated. “It’s about seeing what sticks.”

You nodded, unsure if he was talking about careers or something else entirely.

You couldn’t quite say you could call San a friend, but in your last few days in Boston, he somehow became one. Someone you could talk to—someone you’d grown comfortable with in a place far from home, far from Junhoe.

You hadn’t gotten this close or spoken to anyone this way in your entire life. Only Junhoe. And that thought alone made you pause.

San didn’t taunt you anymore. He spoke differently now—mindful and kinder. He still had moments of playfulness, pointing out tweaks in your notes or explaining how to shape an essay, but he never crossed the line.

You listened, took mental notes, even though you never filled out a single form. San built his own kind of boundary, one that neither of you ever talked about, focusing on the program, the research deadlines, and the mock interviews.

But in the middle of it all, you felt it—that knot in your stomach. Every time you laughed at something San said or replied with more than a sentence, you thought about Junhoe—no matter how many miles away he was. You couldn’t shake the feeling he’d somehow know, and that the next call would sound different. Colder.

You weren’t doing anything wrong—but the feeling of guilt stayed with you regardless.

Junhoe hadn’t changed much—at least not on the surface. His texts were still warm, and his tone on calls sounded just like it did when you first arrived in Boston. He didn’t ask much about you anymore, though. He mentioned how tired he was, how prep school was eating up his days now that the final weeks were closing in. You told yourself he was probably just busy. If something was wrong—if he knew about San—he’d be on the next flight to Boston already. You couldn’t imagine what he would say or do if he found out.

One evening, just to be sure, you video called him. It was early dawn in London, but he still picked up. His hair was messy, eyes heavy with sleep on the other screen.

“Hey,” he said, voice hoarse. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied. “Sorry I called so late, just wanted to see you.”

Junhoe rubbed his eyes, before leaning back against the headboard. “You working on your applications?”

You nodded. “The instructor’s been giving me tips. I’m still figuring things out.”

“I can have someone help you,” he offered. “Just to make sure everything’s solid.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said quickly. “I’ve got it.”

He was silent for a beat—long enough to make your stomach twist. 

You felt relieved once you saw him smile.

“I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too,” you replied, smiling back.

The first time Junhoe heard San’s name, he was deep in another study group, surrounded by spreadsheets, pitch decks, and half-empty coffee cups. His team was preparing for a mock consultancy pitch—tight deadlines and rotating team leads had him running on adrenaline and little sleep.

His phone buzzed, M. Lee’s name lighting up on the caller ID. Junhoe paused briefly, glancing at the screen—it was an odd hour for his reporter to call. He excused himself without a word, picked up the phone, and stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him.

The call connected before the second ring. 

“Sir,” M. Lee said, voice clipped. “There’s someone you should be aware of.”

Junhoe’s posture straightened. “Go on.”

“My contact from the workshop sent a report. He saw her interacting with someone today—a boy. Name’s San.”

Junhoe let him continue.

“He approached her after the breakout session. He tried to make a conversation. Nothing inappropriate. She kept it short, no prolonged eye contact.”

Junhoe’s jaw clenched. “Send me everything.”

“I already have. Photos are in your inbox. I’ll start pulling his background—school records, family, affiliations. Full report will be ready by tomorrow.”

Junhoe lowered his voice, stepping further down the dimly lit empty hallway. “I want to know who he is. What he wants. And why he’s near her.”

“Yes, sir.”

As soon as Junhoe ended the call, he went straight to his inbox. The email from M. Lee was marked with a discreet symbol—encrypted, as always. He tapped the link, entered the passcode only he and M. Lee knew, and waited as the files decrypted.

Three photos loaded: you frowning, San leaning on the table next to you.

Junhoe’s grip on his phone tightened. He zoomed in on San’s face, dragging two fingers across the screen until the image sharpened. Something about him tugged at Junhoe’s memory—something familiar, off.

He inspected it more intently.

The balcony. Club Echelon. Gangnam.

The night came back clearly—you stepping out of the VIP lounge for some air, the boy smoking, the one who had approached you.

It was him.

San.

Junhoe’s pulse thudded in his ears, and for a long moment, he didn’t move, eyes still locked on the screen.

He dragged his feet back to the room, everything around him barely registering.

His teammates were still discussing market entry strategies when he returned. Someone gestured toward him.

“Junhoe, thoughts on the pricing model?”

He blinked. “Sorry?”

They repeated the question. He nodded, feigning attention, but his thoughts were already elsewhere—Boston, San, and you.

Choi San. Seventeen. Senior at Hanyoung Academy. Parents: Choi Jong Cheol and Kim Nam Ji. One older sister, Choi Haneul.

Family operates under the mid-tier chaebol umbrella, controlling stake in Jungmin Holdings (logistics, retail, real estate); discreet, low public profile.

San was currently in Boston, scouting universities. Tufts University was his preferred choice, aiming for political science. He was attending preparatory programs and staying alone at the Boston Marriott Copley.

Single; no known romantic involvement. 

No criminal record.

One flagged incident: a bullying case in middle school. San had been the victim. The matter was settled privately between families. No disciplinary action recorded on permanent file.

“It looks like a coincidence,” M. Lee said on the other end of the line, as Junhoe read through the file on San displayed on his laptop.

He was sitting alone at a corner table in The Black Penny. A half-eaten sandwich lay beside an untouched glass of orange juice and a nearly finished black coffee. The afternoon crowd was slow, the clatter of cutlery and low conversation fading into the background as he listened to his reporter on the phone.

“The program pulls students from different schools. San’s just one of them. Nothing unusual.” M. Lee continued.

Junhoe rubbed his chin slowly, studying the name on the screen—Jungmin Holdings. He was certain he’d heard it before. And as if M. Lee could read his thoughts, he spoke.

“I also found something else,” M. Lee added. “You and your fiancée’s families both hold minor stakes in Jungmin Holdings—San’s family owns the group.”

“Could be nothing,” M. Lee said. “But I’ll keep watching. If anything shifts, you’ll know first.”

The call ended, and Junhoe drank the last of his coffee. His eyes remained on the screen—on San’s file, on the student photo. A sneer tugged at his lips.

Junhoe couldn’t name the feeling exactly—but he knew it was raw anger the moment he saw the photos: you and San, standing close, laughing together, walking side by side.

This was exactly why he’d wanted you in London—to keep you close.

He’d trusted you too much—believed you could handle the distance, believed you’d stay away from people like San.

He was wrong.

His first instinct was to call and arrange a private flight to Boston that very night—to go to you, to see San’s face in person.

But just as he was about to dial, he stopped.

This wasn’t the moment to act on impulse.

So instead of leaving London and abandoning everything, he went to the gym. Staying in his dorm felt unbearable—like he might explode if he didn’t move.

The weights felt heavier than usual, but Junhoe didn’t stop. He welcomed the burn in his arms, the ache in his shoulders—anything to drown out the thoughts clawing at him.

You’d kept San a secret. Like he was some fool.

He gritted his teeth, exhaling sharply as he pushed through another rep. You should hide it well. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of knowing he’d seen the photos—not yet. He was waiting. Planning. He wanted to catch you in the act, to see it with his own eyes. Let you think he was still in the dark. Let you believe you were careful.

What he couldn’t understand—what made his chest tighten—was why you couldn’t just ask him for help. Why you’d choose to do it with someone you barely knew? Someone whose family doesn’t even come close to yours. Someone who didn’t know you the way he did.

He hated how much he loved you.

Loved you too much to stay rational. Too much to let go. You’d been with him since you were kids, and still, you couldn’t love him the same way.

He would do anything for you.

Even if it meant ruining everything. Even if it meant tearing it all down just to have you for himself.

He dropped the weights, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his back. He might’ve been alone in the gym, but his head was anything but silent.

You blow-dried your hair until it fell smooth, the scent of your shower still clinging to your skin. On the vanity of your hotel room, the ticket caught your eye again—The Lehman Trilogy, Citizens Bank Opera House.

San had invited you earlier that week, saying you deserved a night off after all the scouting and programs. He’d already bought the tickets.

You’d almost declined, but this was your last night in Boston. Tomorrow, you’d fly back to Seoul.

You slipped into your black Chanel dress, added a touch of gloss and a spritz of perfume, then grabbed your coat and purse before stepping out of the hotel that evening—hoping to enjoy the night, even if a part of you knew you shouldn’t.

You’d told Junhoe a while ago that you were going to see a play. You didn’t say with whom—only that you planned to watch alone. He hadn’t asked questions, just told you to have fun and to let him know once it was over, or when you were back at the hotel.

You said you would.

You arrived fifteen minutes early. Most of the crowd had already gone in, leaving only a few stragglers outside the Opera House—couples checking their tickets, a group of friends taking photos beneath the marquee, a handful of latecomers hurrying toward the entrance.

San stood near the steps, wearing a cream-colored knit polo and charcoal dress pants, his hands in his pockets.

“Have you been waiting long?” you asked as you approached. “We still have time, don’t we?”

“I’ve been here for over an hour,” he said, deadpan.

“Really?”

He laughed. “I’m kidding. I just got here too—and yes, we still have time before the show starts.”

You rolled your eyes. San joined you in the flow of people heading inside. You sat close to the stage, where the orchestra played beneath the looming velvet curtains.

A few minutes later, the lights dimmed. The audience hushed. The show began.

Halfway through the play, Junhoe lowered the binoculars from the stage and turned them toward the audience below.

There you were.

Seated beside San.

He didn’t need to see your face to know it was you.

He’d landed in Boston that afternoon, stepping off a private jet with barely two hours of sleep and a fury that hadn’t cooled. The play was the last straw. He couldn’t stomach your lies anymore.

M. Lee had sent him the confirmation—San had bought two tickets. One for himself. One for you.

So Junhoe bought one too. Balcony seat. Last-minute. Didn’t matter.

You’d texted him earlier, saying you were going to see a play alone. He’d replied casually, told you to have fun and to message him once it was over.

He was lying.

He already knew.

He was already in Boston.

He left everything behind—deadlines, exams, the final stretch of prep school—because of you.

Because you needed to be reminded who you belonged to.

He adjusted the focus, watching as San bent close to whisper something. You tilted your head, lips parting in awe.

Junhoe’s knuckles whitened around the binoculars.

You thought he wouldn’t know.

You thought you could lie to his face and get away with it.

But he was here now.

And you wouldn’t see him coming.

The applause was still echoing in your chest as the curtain fell. You stood with the rest of the audience, clapping until your palms tingled, heart still racing from the final monologue.

“That was insane,” you gushed as you and San made your way down the aisle. 

San chuckled, holding the door open for you. “Told you it was good. You looked like you forgot to breathe half the time.”

“I did,” you laughed. “I think I actually forgot I was in a theater.”

Outside, the night air was cool. You kept talking, still riding the high of what you’d just watched.

“Thank you,” you said, turning to him. “For bringing me. I really needed this.”

San threw you a wink. “You’re welcome. Knew you’d like it.”

Before your foot hit the pavement, a black car came into view, idling at the curb.

A cold prickle crept down your back.

Two men flanked the car—one Korean, one American—both in dark suits and earpieces, broad and stoic. Between them stood Junhoe, arms folded, leaning against the car—a grimace crossing his face as he took in the sight of you with San, the kind that said: I knew it. I saw everything.

Your breath caught.

“Junhoe…”

The smile on San’s face faded.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Junhoe cut you off.

“Get in the car.”

You tried again. “Junhoe—”

“It’s not a request.”

You shot San a final look, heart pounding with worry.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, smiling faintly as if to soothe you.

Junhoe swallowed hard at that. 

You did what he said. The Korean bodyguard stepped forward and opened the car door for you. You slid inside, pulse hammering.

Junhoe turned to San, voice sharp. “Let’s talk.”

He jerked his head toward an empty side street tucked between two buildings.

Junhoe walked first.

San didn’t move.

The American bodyguard closed in on him, his posture stiff, eyes locked with warning.

San let out a dry chuckle. “Well, isn’t this dramatic?”

Then he followed, the American trailing behind.

The alley was quiet. A flickering streetlamp cast long shadows across the pavement, and trash bins lined the wall. Words could turn cutting here—and no one would hear.

When they came face to face, Junhoe still wore the same grimace. He skipped the small talk and wasted no time.

“I don’t know what your intentions are,” he started. “But I don’t want you near her. You won’t talk to her. You won’t look at her. You won’t even breathe near her.”

San held his ground. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

Junhoe stepped in, close enough to erase space. San didn’t flinch.

“Keep pushing,” Junhoe dared, “and one call is all it takes. Your family’s grip on Jungmin Holdings? Gone. Every deal you’ve been circling, every ounce of leverage—wiped clean.”

San’s jaw tensed, the threat hit, but he refused to give Junhoe the satisfaction.

Junhoe turned to go, but San wasn’t done. “One day, she’ll realize she has to leave you.”

Junhoe halted. The look he gave San said everything—speak again, and I’ll end you.

“Don’t test me. You don’t know what I’m capable of.” His tone made it clear—this was final.

Then he walked away, leaving San alone in the alley.

The car moved in silence, the engine’s low rumble filling the void between you.

Junhoe sat beside you, elbow on the door, palm pressed to his cheek, staring out the window. He hadn’t said a word since you left. Neither had you.

Your hands were clasped together, unease gnawing at you. Your thoughts kept circling on San—what Junhoe might’ve done. The silence only made it worse.

You swallowed hard and gathered yourself. “What did you do to him?”

Junhoe raised a finger without facing you. 

“Don’t,” he hissed. The single gesture was enough to keep your mouth shut. 

Your throat tightened, eyes stinging as you forced back the tears.

You burst into the hotel room and went straight for your suitcase. Clothes, toiletries, chargers—everything was thrown in one by one, your hands shaking. Junhoe followed behind, tracing your every move as you packed like he had all the time in the world.

You were already crying, but quietly—just the sound of sniffling and the zip of fabric. Then your frustration cracked. You started slamming things into the suitcase, fists clenched, movements erratic.

“Stop.”

You ignored him.

His tone dropped. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

That made you freeze. You dropped the shirt in your hand and sat on the edge of the bed, sobbing now. Your things lay scattered across the floor, half-packed, half-forgotten.

Junhoe dragged a chair in front of you and sat down. He reached for your hand and brushed the back of your palm—gentle, though his expression wasn’t. He placed a kiss on your engagement ring, his words cutting through your sobs.

“What were you thinking?” he said evenly. “You thought I wouldn’t know what you’ve been doing behind my back?”

You gaped at him, stunned. “How can you do this to me, Junhoe?”

“Do what?”

You pulled his hand away. “This! Following my every move!”

“Why?” he snapped. “So you can flirt and sneak around with another guy?”

“He’s just a friend.”

“A friend? I am your friend!” His laugh was bitter. He jabbed a finger at his chest. “Your fiancé!”

You ran your fingers through your hair. “You’re suffocating me.”

Junhoe gritted his teeth. “And you’re hurting me.”

You stood from the bed and began to pace. The pressure in your chest was unbearable. You spun back toward him.

“You’re not right in the head!” you spat. 

Junhoe’s expression twisted into something lethal, cruel—as he pushed himself to his feet. “Maybe if you weren’t such a slut, I wouldn’t have left London for this.”

That did it.

You scanned the room and grabbed the nearest thing—a heavy glass paperweight, throwing it into the air without thinking.

It hit him just below the left eye.

The paperweight hit the floor with a sickening crack, shards scattering across the room. Neither of you moved.

Junhoe’s hand flew to his face. A bruise was already blooming beneath the skin.

You clasped your hands over your mouth, stunned by what you’d done. The bruise beneath Junhoe’s eye was already darkening, a thin line of blood tracing the edge.

You drew closer, reaching out instinctively. “Let me see—”

Junhoe caught your wrist mid-motion.

“No.”

His grip on you was iron-tight.

Without warning, Junhoe shoved you backward. You fell onto the bed, stomach-first, the air leaving your lungs. You didn’t fight it. You lay there, heart racing fast, dress rumpled.

Junhoe moved behind you. You felt the fabric of your dress being pulled up, your lace underwear stripped away.

Something in him snapped. His palm came down hard against your ass, again and again.

You cried out, every breath caught between resistance and surrender. Your body flinched with each strike, oddly stimulated as you let him take over.

Junhoe’s hand froze mid-strike, like he’d just woken from a trance.

His gaze swept over the aftermath of what he’d done—your skin, red and swollen.

You twisted around fast, wincing, and slapped him—hard.

The sound rang out. His head whipped to the side. Blood welled at the corner of his mouth.

Junhoe touched it—two fingers to the split skin.

You grabbed him by the collar, fists gripping tightly, the movement abrupt. You kissed him hard, tasting the blood on his lips. He grunted as your tongues met, breath tangled and hot between you. 

He pinned you down, devouring your mouth. But before he could strip you, you acted—quick and forceful, flipping him despite the strength difference.

He let you.

You straddled him with your dress still on.

Junhoe let you take control. His hands held your waist, groaning as you reached for his belt. You did it swiftly. The sound of the buckle unfastening nearly sent him over the edge. You didn’t remove it off completely—only what you needed.

Junhoe let out a low growl as you guided his dick toward your entrance. You were already wet from his spanking earlier, and the kissing had only made you want more. A croak escaped your throat as you felt the hardness of his tip. It always hurt like the first time, whenever it had been a while. But despite the ache, you began rolling your hips deliberately. Junhoe placed his hands on your knees, trying not to stray anywhere else. He knew exactly what you needed—to feel something by feeling him. To pour all your pent-up emotion onto him. He matched your rhythm, savoring the way your pussy throbbed around him.

The pain dissolved into pleasure. You quickened the motion, hips grinding, chasing the feeling while you fondled yourself, your nipples erect from inside your dress.

Junhoe lay beneath you, panting, his hands fisting the sheets. You writhed above him, the room echoed with moans and the slick sound of skin meeting skin.

Each thrust sunk deeper. Each whine louder.

You wanted to feel everything—and you did.

You felt it building—your body arching as you convulsed. Junhoe’s stuttered breaths told you he was close.

He withdrew his hardened length from your dripping cunt just in time, before he could spill his seed inside you. Rising to his knees, he stroked himself with urgency, eyes fixed on you, still aching for the lost contact. You leaned back on one elbow, one leg raised, spreading yourself to him. You mirrored his motion, two digits working in and out of your folds as you watched him—disheveled, mouth agape. His face and lips down to his chin still bore traces of dried blood. You kept pace, tracking each twitch of his body—watching until you both reached orgasm, spilling cum onto the silk sheets.

Junhoe lay half-upright against the headboard, chest heaving, eyelids shut.

You stayed where you were—head dangling off the foot of the bed, catching air in shallow bursts. Once he’d composed himself, he reached for the tissues on the bedside table, tending to himself and then to you with quiet care before tossing them in the trash.

Junhoe coaxed you closer, hands on your ankles, his body folding toward yours. You cupped his face. The anger had vanished from his features, leaving only the bruises you’d left. Your thumb traced each mark slowly, reverently.

“I’m sorry, Junhoe,” you whispered, voice cracking as the sob rose again.

Junhoe slid his arms under you, lifting you gently from where you lay. He held you close, your trembling body folding into his chest.

Between the embrace, his thumb found your cheek, wiping away the tears as they came.

“I deserve it, so stop crying now.” he cooed. 

Junhoe’s split lip brushed your forehead, your nose, then your mouth. Each kiss softer than the last, like he was afraid to break you further.

“I’m sorry for what I said too,” he murmured. “I won’t say it again.”

A faint smile broke through you despite the tears—your heart ached for him, not just for the marks on his skin, but for everything you’d said and done.

Junhoe shifted, easing both of you down onto the bed. His arm wrapped around you from behind, pulling you into the curve of his body, breath warm against your neck.

He was tired—bone-deep, and you felt it in the way he held you. Sleepless, restless nights had caught up to him, along with every fight, every argument, and every moment of longing that had passed between you.

You’d stopped crying—just the occasional sniffle now.

Junhoe’s voice was fading, thick with sleep.

“You should’ve told me you liked plays. I’d take you to any of them, anywhere in the world.”

“Okay, the Sugar Plum Fairy said that there was a secret entrance a few yards away from the south wall. There, we’ll enter into a secret passageway hidden within the castle walls. She marked the path to take that will lead us to the north side of the castle. Somewhere there is his royal treasury. We should find the egg somewhere there.”

“Should? Are we not certain that’s where the egg is?” Y/N said.

“The Sugar Plum Fairy hasn’t ever seen the egg or inside the castle,” Lieutenant Donghyuk explained. “She did her best to try and remember what the Mouse King’s said before. She helped us the best she could.”

General Hanbin rolled the map up before returning it to his sack. He slung it over his shoulder, making sure it was secured before leading the group away from the woods. They had to back-track slightly before the general led them down a steep hillside. The Uncrossable Seas were next to the hill, its waters sloshing along the grass. Next to the hill was a curtain of vines and leaves.

The General pushed the curtain aside to reveal a dark and damp tunnel. Ju-ne took Y/N’s hand as they entered the tunnel. It was dark--dark and quiet. The only sound was the ocean outside, and their footsteps as they stepped on the soaked, moss covered ground. The air around them was thick as they continued through the tunnel.

“Be careful,” General Hanbin called back. “We should be coming up to the secret passageway soon.”

And they were. Soon the soft moss ground changed to hard stone. The air was no longer thick with moisture, but thick with dust. The ocean sounds faded into a deafening nothingness. Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls--the only source of sound outside their breathing. Torches lined the walls, lighting the group’s way. Ju-ne kept a firm grip on Y/N’s hand, looking back once in a while to make sure she was still there with them.

Up ahead of them was a dead end. Lieutenant Donghyuk went to the front of the group, placing his ear against the wall. He knocked on the stones in a few different places before stepping back. Ever so carefully he pushed on one side of the wall. With a loud groan, the wall began to slowly spin, revealing the inside of the castle.

The group rushed through the entrance before the wall fell back into place, as if it had never been touched. The inside of the castle was exactly as you’d expect a castle to look. Soft carpets covered the floor under them. Priceless nicknacks were strategically placed on tables along the hallway. Paintings of kings and queens of old covered the walls. Gas lanterns gave the hallway a dim glow. The only thing missing was the servants and courtiers, but Y/N supposed the Mouse King had gotten rid of them.

“Okay, there’s two main corridors on the north side,” General Hanbin said, pulling the map from his sack. “We’ll divide into teams of two, then search for the egg. We’ll meet back here once we’ve finished searching. If none of us have found it, then we’ll have to search the entire castle. Understood?” Everyone nodded. “Excellent. Lady Y/N and the Nutcracker will take this corridor, Lieutenant Donghyuk and I will take this one.” General Hanbin put the map back in his sack before turning to the Lieutenant.

The four split up and went their separate ways. Ju-ne and Y/N went down their corridor, poking their heads into the different rooms. Most were empty bedrooms, cabinets, and bathrooms. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, turning this way and that. The doors became fewer and fewer the further they went along.

At one point there was a split in the corridor. One could either continue to go straight, or venture off towards the left. Ju-ne and Y/N stopped, looking down both hallways. They both appeared identical from a first glance. They needed to check every room they could, but going together would take too much time. The longer they remained in the castle, the more likely they were to be caught.

“You take the corridor on the left. I’ll continue straight,” Y/N said, glancing at Ju-ne briefly before she started walking. He barely caught her wrist and pulled her back to him. He stared down at her, eyes focused on her, reading her. Y/N felt her heartbeat pick up the longer he stared at her. He seemed to have that effect on her, making her sweat and heat up. In fact, it actually infuriated her how good he was at leaving her head in a blissfully fuzzy state of being.

“Absolutely not,” he finally said. He was also very good at telling her “no”. She pulled her hand away from his, crossing her arms over her chest. “If something happens to you and I’m not there I--” He struggled to finish his sentence, staring at her hopelessly. “We need to stay together.” Y/N’s gaze softened slightly. She could never find it in her to be in a sour mood when those big, brown eyes were staring at her.

“I understand your concern, but if we don’t split up, we’ll be here forever. Then we shall most definitely be caught. No, we must split up. Once we’ve checked all the rooms, we’ll meet right back here. Okay?” Ju-ne looked like he wanted to argue, but one look from Y/N had him nodding his head in agreement. She smiled triumphantly before continuing, alone, down the corridor.

The longer she traveled alone, the more paranoid she began to feel. She tried not to look at the paintings that lined the walls. Every time she glanced up, it was like those black, unmoving, abysses were staring down at her. She swallowed thickly, wrapping her arms around herself. She took deep breaths, letting her mind focus on everything else.

Domestic thoughts began to take over her head. Thoughts of Sunday morning brunches, picnics in an amazing and lucious garden, reading as it poured outside, and even thoughts of children. These were thoughts she rarely had, unless she was reading a rather romantic book, but they floated around in her head nonetheless. And they all circled around one individual.

Up ahead, at the very end of the corridor, was a singular door. The corridor ended with the room. There were no other hallways to turn down or rooms to explore. Y/N’s steps seemed to slow down the closer she got to the door. Her breathing became shallow as every part of her being became hyper aware of everything around her. Only when she was right outside the door did she finally stop.

The door seemed to loom over her like a shadow. It both beckoned and cast her away. She turned around briefly, pondering if she should walk away. She shook the thought from her head. Everyone was counting on her: the Sugar Plum Fairy, Jiwon, Jinhwan, Lieutenant Donghyuk, General Hanbin, Ju-ne… Pushing her own selfish thoughts aside, she slowly turned the door knob.

The door swung open with a surprising amount of ease. It was completely dark inside--dark and quiet. Ever so slowly, Y/N stepped in, leaving the door ajar to cast some light in the room. It looked like an office of sorts. There was a long table with a chair at the end, closest to Y/N. In fact, that’s all there seemed to be in the mysterious room. She frowned, her body slumping slightly. Something felt wrong. There was something in Y/N’s mind telling her this was wrong, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Slam!

Turning around, Y/N found herself in complete darkness. She rushed back to where the door had been, but she couldn’t seem to find a door handle. Panic filled her as she tried to look around the room, yet no matter how long she stared, her eyes couldn’t seem to adjust. She began to bang on the door, calling out for help.

“They aren’t going to hear you.” Each word was drawn out unnecessarily as, ever so slowly, light began to fill the room.

She kept her face towards the wall, her spine straightening. Her hands rested flat, as her eyes remained downcast. She knew that voice. Slowly she turned around.

The Mouse King sat at the other end of the table, his small crown atop his head. His elbow rested on the arm of the chair as the magic sceptor laid on the table in front of him. He was staring at her, but his gaze almost seemed bored. As if her being here was nothing more than a dip in his day.

“Have a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of her. She sat down, keeping her eyes trained on him. Her breathing was steady, but her heart pounded in her chest. She wondered faintly if he could hear it. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. “Remarkable.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice was clear and sharp.

“Remarkable. Don’t think I forgot our last encounter. The bump on the back of my head is a constant reminder of who you are.” He winced slightly. She smirked, watching as he stood from his chair, swiping the scepter off the table. “You and I have quite a few things to discuss, Lady Y/N.”

“How do you know my name?” she inquired, standing up. They slowly began pacing around the table, eyes locked. He chuckled slightly, shaking his long head. “Do I amuse you, your Majesty?”

“Not particularly. But she does.” He waved the scepter, and an image of the Sugar Plum Fairy appeared. She was pacing the length of her room, clearly frustrated. “She still thinks that I can’t see her, as if her magic can hide her from me.” He waved and the image disappeared. He turned back towards Y/N. “As I said, you and I have quite a few things to discuss.”

“That we do,” she conceded. “For starters, that doesn’t belong to you.” She watched as he went to the nearby fireplace, using it to start a roaring fire. The flames danced across his face as a stoic look took over.

“No, it does not,” he agreed. “It belonged to the Emperor, and in his absence, it belongs to his son. Your precious nutcracker.” The Mouse King shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “You must understand, I am not the bad guy.”

“You think so? From where I’m standing, you seem to fit the role quite well,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yes. I suppose she has painted the image perfectly. Evil and power-hungry. Nothing is more convincing than taking your own traits and projecting them onto someone else. Especially when that other person is innocent and doesn’t see what’s going on.” He turned to her, paw clenched around the scepter. “I would like to tell you a story, Lady Y/N.”

“Why should I listen to a word you say?”

“Because if you ever wish to see your nutcracker again, you’ll sit and listen.” His voice was calm, but his black eyes flashed red, causing her to take a couple steps back. Surprised, she sat down, but her eyes stayed on him and her body was rigid.

“Not too long ago, the Emperor announced that he would no longer be ruling over us, that his time as the emperor had passed. His power would be passed down to his heir, and everyone was apprehensive. The Prince was aloof and politically inept, but we couldn’t disobey the Emperor. Until the Prince was of proper age, the reigning Sugar Plum and I were to keep order amongst the empire.

“The Sugar Plum Fairy grew impatient. I tried to talk with her, to get her to see reason, but she refused. I could tell she was growing too fond of her temporary power. Maybe if I had voiced my concerns, things wouldn’t have progressed the way they did.

“I happened to be wandering the palace late one night, unable to sleep, when I noticed the Prince’s door ajar. I stepped inside to find the Sugar Plum Fairy standing over him as he laid fast asleep. I shall spare you any more details.

“I had forced her out of the palace and seized the scepter from her. What I hadn’t realized was that while I was busy holding in my concerns, she had convinced the courtiers and servants that I craved the crown myself. That being a reigning Lord hadn’t been enough for me. I, unfortunately, only cemented her words when I threw her from the palace.

“I knew that, given the chance, she’d go after the Prince. To keep him safe, I did the only thing I could think of. I turned him into a nutcracker and sent him far away, claiming he had perished. What I hadn’t expected was for him to fall into the lap of a girl. I hadn’t expected him to find you, but maybe now things can be righted.”

“What makes you think I’d believe a word you said?” Her heart was pounding in her chest as she listened to him.

“Why did you take the key from her room?”

A small gasp left her mouth as she fought the urge to reach for it. They watched each other for several minutes. There was conflict inside her. After all, what he said was completely plausible. On the other hand, as he had said himself, nothing is more convincing than taking your own traits and projecting them onto someone else.

He lifted the scepter above him, and the one thing she’d been looking for appeared on the table before her. It was a small, ornate egg, covered in gold and precious gems. Her mouth fell open as she stared at it. There it was, the one thing she needed to defeat him and return home, just within reach, and yet, she couldn’t bring herself to grab it. She glanced over to him.

“Take it,” he said, waving the scepter again so the door reappeared. “Take it to Ju-ne.”

She snatched the egg off the table and ran out the door, nearly collapsing in the hallway. When she turned around, the door was gone. Her hand went to her pocket, where she could feel the outline of the key. She let out a breath, placing the egg into the pocket of her dress skirt.

She made her way through the castle, back to where she and Ju-ne agreed to meet. She waited for a few minutes, but after a while, it seemed like he wasn’t coming. Curiously she went in search of General Hanbin and Lieutenant Donghyuk, yet where everyone agreed to meet, they couldn’t be found. She nearly smacked herself in the face. Of course the Mouse King had been distracting her.

She blew out a puff of air and began her search of the castle. She went through many corridors, yet they all seemed to lead back to where she started, but even after a while she couldn’t remember where she started. Everything seemed the same and yet nothing was familiar. Paintings seemed to move and doors disappeared as soon as you turned.

She sat on the floor, bringing her knees to her chest. She had to think of something before it was too late. She scooted over to the nearby wall and pressed her ear against it. She slowly lifted her hand and began knocking various places.

Further down than where she’d been sitting, where she knocked sounded hollow. Summoning all her might, she shoved her shoulder into the wall. It swung with surprising ease and she tumbled into another area of the castle.

No more endless halls, she came to a second floor with a railing that peered down. Looking down she saw two mouse guards in front of a door. She nibbled on her bottom lip, looking around. She walked along the railing until the room was below her and she could no longer see the soldiers.

What she did see was a solution. Taking a pin from her hair, she crouched down to undo the lace of her boot. She tied each end of the lace to a pole along the railing. She placed the pin in the center and aimed for a vase in the opposite room. She exhaled softly, letting the pin go. It flew, knocking the vase off the shelf and drawing the soldiers away. She ran to a nearby velvet drape and slid down it. She shook her rug burned hands and quickly stepped into the room, being sure to shut the door quietly.

Her face fell as she discovered the room was empty. Her shoulders slumped as she backed herself against the door. Fooled, once again. She wanted to shout. What was the point of placing guards in an empty room? To trick her of course. Now that she was in the room, she either had to stay or risk being caught by the guards.

She pushed herself away from the door. There had to be a way out, like in the hallways. After all, that was his game: rats in a maze. She went to walk to the other side of the room and fell backwards. She rubbed her forehead, reaching a tentative hand out.

There was an invisible wall before her, cutting the room in half. It felt like glass.She let out a mirthless laugh. She went over to grab a nearby torch and went to smash it against the wall. The wall shattered and revealed the second half of the room. Still empty, there was at least another door. Dropping the torch, she opened the door.

It revealed a set of stone stairs leading up. Picking up her skirts, she began her climb. There were no windows and the only lights came from the torches that appeared just as the light from the last one nearly disappeared. She continued to climb until she came to a second door.

She pushed it open and found General Hanbin, Lieutenant Donghyuk, and Ju-ne in the room looking miserable and angry.

“Ju-ne!” She ran to him and threw her arms around his wooden neck, nearly laughing.

“Y/N? How did you find us?” He pulled away from her slightly, mouth open. She waved his question away.

“Lady Y/N, are we glad to see you!” Lieutenant Donghyuk bowed his head, a genuine smile on his face. General Hanbin nearly nodded.

“I’m so happy to have found you all, but we can’t stay here. Any longer and I fear the Mouse King shall try something else to prolong our visit,” she said. She turned towards the door. There was no guarantee that they wouldn’t be caught. Inside the room was rope, probably used to tie them up and a window overlooking the woods at the edge of a cliff that dropped into the Uncrossable Seas. Even on a clear day, the waters looked violent.

“I can see the gears in your head turning. What is it, Y/N?” Ju-ne asked.

“How well can you swim?” she inquired, stepping away from the window.

“Irrelevant. I’m made of wood. Why do you ask?”

“I have an idea, but it’s mad.” She told them her idea, and seeing no alternative, they all reluctantly agreed.

Lieutenant Donghyuk took his elbow and smashed the window out, pushing out any spare shards as best he could. General Hanbin was the first to exit, holding fast onto the rope as Lieutenant Donghyuk followed. Both men were arguing with each other as Ju-ne pulled Y/N to the side.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I know staying here is dangerous, but at least you know you’d be… okay.” The word he wanted to say refused to leave his mouth. She smiled sweetly, placing a hand on his arm.

“If you think this has been the most terrifying part of my day, I envy you.”

“I am a nutcracker.” They smiled at one another before he stepped away to climb out the window. She followed suit and once they were all outside, they jumped.

The waters were harsh, cold, and relentless in their assault against the group. As they plunged into the black depths of the Uncrossable Seas, an unseeable force kept them down. Y/N struggled as she fought her way back to the surface. Slowly she made her way back to the surface as her lungs screamed for air.

Once she broke the surface she gasped, only to be thrown back down into the water. She resisted the urge to shout and shut her eyes. She pushed herself back to the surface and fought to keep her head above the thrashing water.

Ju-ne was nearby, on his back, as the water failed to drag him underneath. She swam towards him, throwing herself over his torso as he bobbed. He brought his hand to her back, rubbing it gently. She turned slightly, catching sight of the green military jacket. Using him as a board, she pushed them to the jacket where General Hanbin was struggling to stay afloat.

She pulled him over Ju-ne’s torso and began her search for Lieutenant Donghyuk. She couldn’t seem to find him anywhere. The longer they stayed floating, the more she worried. Unable to wait any longer, she pushed off of Ju-ne. He went to grab her, but she slipped through his grasp.

She dove into the waters, allowing the waves to push her further down. She swam out several yards, ignoring her need for oxygen, when she spotted the bright red pants. She swam towards him, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him up towards the surface. The water fought against her, but she fought back twice as hard.

Soon the pair broke the surface, gasping for air. General Hanbin maneuvered Ju-ne’s body towards them and helped her drape the Lieutenant across him. They pushed his body towards the nearby shore, where the horses were waiting for them.

“Lieutenant Donghyuk?” Y/N shook him gently, before pressing harshly onto his stomach. He began coughing up water, turning to his side as he choked. She gave his back several firm pats as he slowly regained his ability to breath. “Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

“That’s twice now you’ve saved my life.” He gave her a weak smile. His voice was hoarse from all the salt he swallowed. “Please, call me DK.”

“As you wish.”

“It’s almost nightfall,” General Hanbin called. “We’ll go a little further into the woods and make camp.” He grabbed his horse and wasted no time in marching into the woods. Ju-ne and Y/N helped DK onto his horse, then grabbed Cinnamon and Cocoa to follow the General into the woods.

As General Hanbin set up a fire for DK to rest by, Y/N took a seat on a nearby log next to Ju-ne. He was staring down at the ground. Their backs were to the others.

“It was a waste to come here. We almost died, and we didn’t get the egg.” Ju-ne let out a sigh, resting his head in his hand. She bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the others were still occupied. She reached into the pocket of her dress and produced the golden egg. His mouth fell open as he looked at it. “How did you--”

“The Mouse King gave it to me. He knew we were coming to get it, and he knows where the Sugar Plum Fairy is. He told me a lot of things, but before we do anything else, we need to know what’s in this egg.” She pulled out the small key and placed it in his hand. “This is your birthright. Not hers.”

Ever so slowly, he put the key into the small hole and turned it until a series of clicks echoed. He opened the egg and revealed a mirror. It was simple, yet deeply profound as he stared into it.

“But, I don’t understand.”

“Can’t you see?” she said, moving to crouch in front of him. “It’s you who’s going to save us. You are your kingdom’s greatest strength. You don’t need anyone but yourself.”

“How can you be so sure? You’ve heard what everyone’s said about the prince. They believe they’re better off without me.”

“Excuse me?” you asked the gorgeous, young receptionist who looked worlds better in a spandex crop top than you ever could.

“Hmm?” she chirped, shifting her gaze up to you. “How can I help?”

“Where do I go for personal training?”

The girl stood up, a beaming, friendly smile tugging at her lips as she replied, “Right over there!” and pointed to a closed-off area to the side of the main exercise room.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a slight grin before heading over there.

“Have a great session!” she called out cheerfully after you.

...How could you be that cheerful working in a gym?

I mean, obviously, a lot of people could be. But you couldn’t imagine it. The only place at which you’d be that cheerful to work would be... like, a candy store. Or a coffee shop. Definitely something to do with food.

Anyway. 

Your heart began to beat faster as you approached the personal training area, and you chewed the inside of your cheek when you realized your trainer -- whoever he or she was -- hadn’t shown up yet.

Then again, you were basically always early to anything and everything, so it shouldn’t have been a surprise that you’d arrived before your trainer.

You let out a soft sigh as you set your bag and water bottle down next to the wall of the fairly small, roped-off area designated for personal training, and then you slid onto a bench to wait.

As the seconds ticked by, you found your gaze wandering out into the main area of the gym -- who didn’t love people watching? Especially when you were just sitting somewhere waiting for someone else to arrive.

To your slight surprise, the ellipticals and bikes and treadmills were not occupied solely by buff guys and fit ladies. There were definitely some of those, but you also saw a couple of -- truly no offense intended -- average people running and cycling their hearts out. There was even an older, gray-haired man speed-walking on a treadmill, and it brought a tiny smile to your face.

At the very least, it made you feel better that you didn’t seem to be the most unfit person here.

Just as you turned back around, you caught a glimpse of someone walking toward the personal training area.

...Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn --

You shook your head quickly to dispel the thought.

No. It couldn’t be.

“Hey,” you heard a voice call out.

And it was a very familiar voice.

Indeed, the familiar voice of the person you thought for a split-second you’d seen in your peripheral vision walking over here.

...Great.

You stood, your heart jumping up into your throat as you turned to face...

Him.

Junhoe.

Your ex-boyfriend.

As soon as he saw you, Junhoe stopped in his tracks. His eyes widened slightly, but it was enough to be noticeable.

What -- was he -- I mean, was he also here for personal training or was he --

“Are you my trainer?” you blurted out. Your nerves were very obvious in your voice, and you scolded yourself for letting your anxiety show right now.

Junhoe’s mouth fell open, but it took him a few seconds to actually answer you.

“...Yeah.”

Wonderful.

So, he was a personal trainer now? After your break-up a couple of years ago, you hadn’t kept up with him on social media (but you still stalked his sister on Instagram kind of regularly... not that you would ever admit that out loud), so you hadn’t even known he’d quit his job at the music store.

Now that you thought about it, going from working at a music store to being a personal trainer was kind of an odd jump.

But that was Junhoe for you. He was predictable in some ways, but in many ways, he absolutely was not.

That was ultimately why you’d ended things with him. The romantic aspect of your relationship had been great -- more than great, actually, but Junhoe just hadn’t been stable enough for you. He was too spontaneous for your schedule-loving, plan-everything-within-an-inch-of-your-life self.

But, looking at him now...

Good god, was he handsome or what? He always had been and, apparently, he always would be.

“Ah,” you replied somewhat breathlessly, your nerves slowly sucking all the air from your lungs. “Well. I -- I guess I’m your new -- trainee... person... thing.”

At that, Junhoe’s expression relaxed, and an amused smile appeared on his lips.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he replied with a soft chuckle. He then stepped closer to you, his eyebrows raising just a smidge. “...How -- how are you?”

“I’m good -- doing well -- just fine,” you replied, inwardly cringing at how awkwardly you’d answered him. “Nothing much has changed, really. Same job, same apartment, same cat.”

You knew from your Instagram stalking escapades that things had changed more for him than they had for you since your break-up. He’d moved in with his sister at one point, and he had adopted the tiniest, fluffiest puppy you’d ever seen. And, apparently, he now had a different job.

“That’s great,” he said. The grin on his lips was genuine, and it kind of warmed your heart to see that he really did think it was great that your life hadn’t changed. He obviously remembered how greatly you valued stability and routine and structure.

You were about to ask him how he was doing (despite the fact you had a good idea based on his sister’s Instagram), but he clapped his hands together and said, “Well, we should probably get started” before you got the chance to.

“Right,” you murmured, feeling your heart jump again. You had been nervous about starting personal training before, but now that your ex-boyfriend was going to be your trainer...

Despite the fact this was your first ever personal training session -- and Junhoe knew this -- he didn’t go easy on you.

Maybe he was still bitter about your break-up and had made you work super hard because he wanted you to feel as much physical pain as he’d felt emotional pain a couple of years ago.

...Or.

And this is the most likely option.

Maybe he was just a tough and passionate trainer who didn’t believe in easy exercising.

(You kind of still wanted to believe he was still bitter, though.)

(But no one needs to know that.)

After the hour was up (though, you were hard-pressed to believe it had only been an hour), you found yourself lying on your back, staring up at the gym ceiling, and trying to catch your breath.

The workout had just ended, but already, every part of your body hurt.

“Good job,” Junhoe chuckled, holding his hand out to help you up.

You closed your eyes briefly because you really did not feel like getting up yet. 

“Are you sure?” you panted. “It doesn’t feel like I did a good job. It feels like I did a horrible job.”

“No, no, you did good,” he assured you with one of his signature smirks -- you know, the same one that had been the first thing to make your stomach flip back when you’d met him. “Come on, let me help you up.”

Well. You had to get up some time, so it might as well be now. The sooner you left the gym, the sooner you got to take a hot bath with three pounds of Epsom salts sprinkled in the water.

Weakly, you lifted one hand, allowing Junhoe to grab it and hoist you up. You were basically dead weight because you were so exhausted, but he was able to pull you to a standing position all on his own. And quite easily, too. It was... pretty impressive.

Junhoe had certainly had a great body while he’d been your boyfriend, but you had no doubt his job as a personal trainer had only done good things to his physique. 

...Mm, nope, better not think about his muscles. It’s not good to think about an ex-boyfriend’s muscles. Especially when that ex-boyfriend is standing right in front of you.

“See you Wednesday?” he asked casually once you were (basically) on your feet, referring to your next training session.

“Y--yeah,” you stammered. “Wednesday. Absolutely.”

There was a pause, and you were just about to turn and grab your bag... but then Junhoe broke the silence.

“Listen, I -- if you don’t want me to be your trainer, I can ask --”

“No, it’s fine,” you interrupted, though... to be quite honest... you weren’t really sure why you said that.

Was it fine?

I mean, sure, your session had gone pretty well. In terms of your interactions, at least. You had felt awkward at first, but you’d gotten used to it after a while, and Junhoe hadn’t acted at all like an ex-boyfriend -- only a trainer.

But... still.

Did you really want to see him three days a week? After not seeing him at all for about two years?

(Not seeing him at all in person, that is. You’d definitely seen him in pictures since, as we’ve established multiple times, you stalked his sister’s Instagram.)

But Junhoe’s lips had already curved into a smile at your reassurance, and you would feel too guilty if you took it back now and asked for another trainer.

“Okay,” he murmured through his grin. “Well, then. See you Wednesday.”

You just nodded before hoisting your bag over your shoulder and beginning to make your way out of the personal training area and into the gym -- limping slightly as you walked, mind you.

It felt like it took you about five hours to leave the gym, get to your car, get inside your car, drive home, walk up to your front door, go to your bathroom, and draw a bath.

And now that you were in the bath -- the hot water and scented Epsom salts relaxing your muscles like nothing ever had before in your entire life -- you were pretty sure you were going to stay in here for another five hours.

You tilted your head back, letting the base of your skull rest against the edge of the tub and closing your eyes. You breathed in the healing aroma of the salts and sighed with content.

Truly, there was nothing better after a long day than a nice, relaxing bath.

...Well, actually. A nice, relaxing bath with some music playing.

Opening your eyes and lifting your head, you reached out and stretched your arm to grab your phone nestled in your discarded clothes on the floor.

Just as you opened up your music app of choice, though, your ringtone cut through the silence and made you jump.

Your eyes narrowed when you saw your brother’s picture on the screen, but your heart was still racing with fright as you answered and pressed your phone to your ear.

“What?” you asked irritably. “You interrupted my Me Time.”

“How was the gym?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes because of course that’s why he was calling.

And you were just annoyed enough to be sassy about it.

“Well, my personal trainer ended up by my ex-boyfriend, so thanks for that.”

Your brother chuckled softly and said, “Junhoe? No way, what are the odds?”

“No matter the odds, it happened, and I’m blaming you.”

“No, no, no, Dear Sister. You will be thanking me when you have more energy and don’t get out of breath walking up two flights of stairs.”

“Okay, those were very long staircases!”

“You’re going back, right?”

You waited a few seconds... let out a long sigh... then replied, “I mean, I paid for two months of sessions. I don’t want to lose that money.”

“Was it super awkward?”

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. “At first. It got better once we were actually training, but... still. It’s not like I had a pleasant time.”

Your brother chuckled softly and said, “Hey, you never know. Maybe it’s fate.”

You quirked one brow. “...Fate? What?” you asked, entirely unamused.

“You never know!” he repeated in a singsong tone. “Good luck on your next session, keep me posted, okay?”

“Whatever,” you murmured, though you could feel a smirk tugging at one corner of your lips.

“Love you, Sis,” he teased (but you knew he really meant it).

“Love you, too, Bro,” you teased back (but you obviously really meant it).

As soon as the call ended, you tapped on the icon for your music app and pressed shuffle on your relaxing Jazz playlist.

After tossing your phone back onto your pile of clothes, you leaned your head against the edge of the tub again and closed your eyes.

The bath, although it was starting to cool already, and the ambient music were doing wonders to ease your aches -- both physical and mental.

But... your brother’s words kept ringing in your head, for some reason.

You never know.

—

"Just get in," his voice deep enough to drown you and have you breathless. "Come here."

Taking more time than usual to slip off of your robe, you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before joining your boyfriend, Junhoe.

It wasn't lustful in any way, no. It could have been though, and it definitely has been– countless of times before, but for a while now, all you’ve been doing is drinking wine and watching your favourite movies while getting all warm and soaked up in the big, jetted tub.

Evening dates became a thing over the past few months, and has slowly become a part of your routine. Every time Junhoe gets home from his martial arts training, a bubble bath date just needs to happen.

Since your bathroom had a floor to ceiling mirror right in front of the tub, you couldn’t help but notice how his face looked glum as ever, with his knuckles bruised and obviously hurt. It seemed like a bad day for him.

"You wanna talk about it?" you asked, playing with the bubbles covering your bodies. Ahh, the simple joys.

Junhoe, looking rather uneasy, reached for your thigh and caressed it ever so gently. "It's just.. it was a bad day. A really bad day, a really tiring day. I’m sorry, baby."

"Yeah?" Shifting closer to him– if that was even possible, you prepared yourself to listen.

Junhoe's free arm snaked its way around your shoulders, adding more warmth to the already scalding hot bath water. Maybe not scalding hot. But maybe almost.

"Our boss didn't like the songs I wrote. He said it lacked flavour– lacked emotion. He said it's.. really not that great. I worked hard on that, Y/N. You know that, right?" His eyes locked onto yours, asking for faith and reassurance.

You nodded and allowed him to continue.

"See, Hanbin's stressed out, too. He told us that the boss wants to delay the comeback. It's been too long, way too long. And, okay– at practice today, for fuck’s sakes. Since all of us were pressured, we all kept messing up the choreo. Dong was so pissed, the guy walked out! I mean– when does he ever do shit like that? Never. And at the gym today, while I was training, this asshole of a guy needed a sparring partner so my coach paired me up with him. Guess what? He doesn't even know how to throw proper punches. He even got mad at me. He's blaming me for his lack of knowledge? Jesus, good God. That's why my knuckles are all bruised up. We kinda got into a fight, but don't worry, baby. I'm fine."

His last words struck you more than anything else. You knew what he meant by that. And you knew that he really wasn't fine. In fact, he was broken.

The subtle sound of the jets kept the two of you company, and the moment you let out a sigh, Junhoe immediately planted a kiss on your shoulder, and clung onto you a bit more.

You loved the way he loved you, and you were determined to love him the same way, too.

"You okay, baby?" He asked, eyes still red from the angst.

Behind those tired eyes were memories of your struggles together, from the beginning up to now. But there definitely was beauty in pain.

"Mhm," you said, tracing the outline of his arms. "You are more than enough, my love. I know I tell you that everyday, but believe me. No matter what happens, you'll always have me. Okay?"

The sweetest smile appeared on his face as if nothing had happened earlier that day. He was smiling, and you were confident that he was going to be alright. Just what you wanted to see.

"I’ll be okay as long as you’re with me, I know that."

"You should always remember that, Koo Junhoe. Now relax, before these bubbles disappear and our bubble bath date just turns into a regular bath."

Your boyfriend’s lips form a silly smirk– and that was a clear indication that you were going to have a pretty long night.

You never really liked crowded areas and loud noises. So, years ago when your friends took you to the club for a first time, you ended up in the bathroom, crying. 

There were too many people, the music was too loud and you were having trouble breathing. You thought that washing your face in the washroom would help, but you ended up collapsing to the floor in tears.

Then, Junhoe walked in.

He saw you on the ground and chose to ignore you at first, thinking that you were drunk. Then he realized that even if you were drunk, he couldn’t just leave you there.

In the end, he helped you out of the club and stayed with you until you calmed down. When he was sure you got home safely, he also went home and straight to bed... where he couldn’t sleep because his thoughts were lost in you.

He’d developed a major crush already.

-

You’d never driven that fast before. Pedal to the metal and for what? Your ex? You couldn’t think straight, though. His health was deteriorating and why was it that his friends just continued to let him get drunk?

It wasn’t your responsibility, but you couldn’t leave him there. Just like he’d helped you when you collapsed in the club, now you were helping him.

The rustic place was packed. Bodies pressed together, loud music shaking the oak walls. You hated it. But you knew where the bathrooms were, so you took a deep breath, kept your head down and walked towards where you knew you needed to go.

Some drunk dude blocked the doorway, but he moved when he saw you reaching for the door handle.

“Some guy’s in there, completely delusional. Stay away from him,” the man slurred. You ignored him and stepped into the washroom. 

Junhoe was right there, under the sinks. He was laughing manically at his phone and as he tried to sit up straight, he almost hit his head. You quickly moved your hand above his head so that your palm would meet the impact for him.

He didn’t even notice and was unfazed.

“Junhoe? Are you alright?” you asked, even though he clearly was not alright.

“Huh? That sounds like [y/n]. [y/n]?! [y/n] are you in hereeee?” he yelled. A couple of girls stared at him as they left the stalls.

“Junhoe, let’s get you out of here,” you said, helping him stand.

“No!” he yelled, eyes rolling around. He still stood up, though.

“I won’t leave until [y/n] comes... Do you know where [y/n] is? I have to tell them something...”

“Oh really?” you said, opening the washroom door. “And what’s that?”

“I need to tell them I’m sorry... For not listening and... I love them a lot and want to be their strong boi again,” he slurred. He was completely flushed in the face.

Somehow you managed to hold in your laughter while maneuvering Junhoe through the dancing people in the club and out through the door.

‘Strong boi’ was what you jokingly used to call Junhoe when you were dating, since he showed off around you a lot by working out. It was even your contact name for him on your phone.

Finally outside, you struggled to get Junhoe in the car.

“Okay Junhoe, you moved houses, right? What’s your new address?” you asked. You weren’t expecting a coherent answer, but still asked him anyway.

He told you an address. It was the address to your house.

You sighed and decided to just drive home.

“Wow, this car looks like [y/n]’s. Ha, it even has the dent in the ceiling from when we were making out and I hit my head-”

“Junhoe, stop-”

“They laughed so hard. I was in so much pain but seeing them laugh made it worth it.”

Somehow, you managed to get the boy into your home, where you seated him on the couch while you went to get water.

“This is [y/n]’s couch... We cuddled a lot here. I remember the way they ran their fingers through my hair...”

He rambled on and on about his memories with you, some of which even you didn’t remember.

After giving him a glass of water, you thought it would be best for him to get some rest, so you let him sleep in your bed.

Right away he rolled to the side that was yours.

“[y/n] would always sleep here,” he mumbled, stretching himself out.

“I can smell their scent,” he said, eyelids fluttering shut.

You decided to sleep on the couch for tonight.

-

Glass breaking.

You woke up to the sound of glass breaking.

“Fuck,” a deep voice said.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up, stretching to wake yourself up. Quickly getting off the couch, you turned to find Junhoe cleaning up the glass that he’d broken.

He looked up and bit his lip when he saw you.

“You’re awake?” he asked.

“You’re awake?” you shot back. “You were not okay yesterday, how are you just up and cleaning my kitchen?”

“I have a high alcohol tolerance,” he said, neatly sweeping everything up. “I can get pretty messed up, but I recover quickly.”

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

“For the love of all that is good, would you please stop drinking? I know we’re not dating anymore but how can I not get worried when you call and-”

“I’m sorry,” he said, standing up. “I know I call you when I’m drunk and that’s not fair to you. I’ve been too shy to say I’m sorry but I genuinely am.”

“If you’re sorry, then please just stop drinking!” you said, bubbling with anger.

“I can’t ‘just stop’, [y/n],” he said, throwing the glass away.

“I know I know, that was dumb of me to say. What I mean is, get some new friends, maybe go to rehab or something?”

“I don’t know if I want to,” Junhoe said, quietly.

“That’s okay, that’s fair. I don’t want to force you into things... If I go with you, will you consider it?”

“Why are you worrying about me?” Junhoe asked, his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Junhoe, I... How could I not worry?”

“Is there any chance that you could still love me?” he asked, walking towards you. By the time he was done asking his question, your back was against the wall.

“J-Junhoe...”

“Does your heart still race when I get this close to you?” he said, leaning in and leaving his lips only inches away from yours.

Your heart was racing. You were tempted to lean forward and press your lips against his... Did this mean you loved him? Or was this just your natural reaction to being around a handsome man?

“I don’t know,” you responded. Junhoe moved back, his eyes roaming around your face.

“It’s okay,” he said, sighing. “You don’t have to know. This is too much too soon, but [y/n], I love you. I can’t do any of this without you. I can’t live without you. I’ll try to get out of this mess so please, if there’s any chance that you still like me, wait for me.”

He walked towards the door, opening it without faltering.

“Junhoe, where are you going?” you asked.

“I love you, [y/n]. Wait for me.”

The door shut.

You walked into the kitchen to see if there were any more glass shards, and found a plate on the kitchen counter. Your favourite breakfast food was right there, made the way Junhoe would always make it for you.

The full kettle and tea bag proved that he was trying to make tea for you when he dropped the mug.

Never before had your wish for time traveling to be possible hammered harder in your heart as it did this very moment. The clock ticking just as it had since the beginning of time, yet you could physically feel each second elongated into minutes. You’ve tapped your foot, your pens, your folders, even your subordinate’s patient and barely 10 minutes had gone by. You wondered if Junhoe too, was also under this strange spell, was he too anxious for the meeting awaiting in the horizon. Curious how the giant ball of emotional mess your heart had been making a home of suddenly much less chaotic even though the words remained unspoken and issue still just as unresolved as it had been the past week. The little rendezvous under the sight assaulting neon of the women bathroom changed not the shame you felt for nights. It didn’t change either what happened in that elevators or the words he said. Yet there was a fire glowing, no denying the rush you felt thinking of seeing him again and it wasn’t all boiling lava of hatred. It was anticipation, of not only the truth but also a future, a bright future with Koo Junhoe. 

Would Irene call you foolish, idiotic, stupid even for the willing trust you gave him when nights before, terrors haunted your dreams, tormenting your soul. You’ve lost count of the times your phone was seconds away from reaching his, a text, a phone call… It was as easy as walking toward that fateful elevator and ring for his attention. Yet you’ve both made a promise to yourselves to do this right, to not let the cursed situation of being boss and subordinate getting in the way. So, once more you tucked away your phone, letting the heavy sigh of your heart falling into the ugly depth of reality. Junhoe must think of you silly if he realized how anxious, desperate even, for the meeting that was mere hours away that you could barely sat still. Or perhaps not, for a not a moment later, your phone nearly scaring your heart into submission as it rang loudly, echoing through the close confinement of your office.

“Hello, Y/n speaking.” You tried to hide the hopefulness in your voice, that secretly you wished it was Junhoe calling. 

“I don’t think I can wait a second longer.” Perhaps life had finally decided to smile upon your misfortunate self as his voice rough, whispering his desire so clearly through to you. “It’s stupid, I know. I promised you I’ll do this the right way but it’s excruciating… Sitting here, knowing you were just a few floors below and not being able to-“ His voice droned out, suddenly very aware of how quiet you’ve been. Though perhaps not for the reason that had just crossed his mind. You were simply mesmerized, moonstruck, and a bit fearful that he could read your mind. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have call.” He chuckled bitterly and somehow, even through the muddling of the office phone, you felt the full extent. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” You were one degree away from screaming, letting the entire world know but the way his voice grew distant, you weren’t about to let him hang up when really, you wanted the same. “Wait, I-, me too.” You sighed, finally letting yourself admit out loud just how riled up he could get your heart to be. 

“Really?” There was something very childlike in the way he exclaimed in disbelief, as if it was completely preposterous that you’d feel the same. In reality, there was no denying and he knew just as well as your heart did that you won’t ever say no to him. “I mean, what should we do then?” You found it cute the way he had subtly cleared his throat before letting the solemnity of a boss returned to his voice. 

“I felt a bit sick after lunch… Thinking about taking the rest of the day off.” You mused, hoping he’d catch on, finally cashing in on those vacation hours you’ve so long been storing up. 

“Oh no, are you alright? Should I call for a doctor? Take you to the hospital?” Or not, who knew the genius behind Koo enterprise success would be so dense. Then again, to be this victorious, you doubted he knew what playing hooky meant.

“Junhoe!” You giggled and his heart stopped. Not skipping a beat, not wavering, it stopped. 

“Oh! I see. Well Ms. Y/l/n, you had a very important meeting later today so I think you should see a supervisor before leaving. It’d be terribly irresponsible if you don’t.” Was it so weird that ‘adorable’ was the first thing that popped into your mind when he finally caught your hint? “I think something this big in scale should go straight to the boss, don’t you think?”

“Ah. Yes, sir. I’ll be right up.” 

The second the receiver had clicked back into the safety of its home, you shot out of your chair, hands hastily gathering random files and paper… All nonsense really, all just an excuse to make your visit to the king all the more natural the eyes of nosy bystander. The door to your office swung with vigor, all the vigor your heart mustered up, drumming to some insane beats out of sheer excitement. In fact, your heart had been so excitingly hopeful that your sudden emerging from your office scared the soul out of the few trainees, unaware that despite your stern appearance, you were as harmless as a bunny. Waving them off, you continued your march toward the elevator hoping Irene wouldn’t be in one of her trance, dreamily starring at the elevator, wishing that it was time to go home. Not that you’d mind sharing with your dear friend borderline mother the event that had left you giddy like a school girl in a mile vicinity of her crush. Not at all, in fact you couldn’t wait to divulge this ball of secret, to tell her how excited you were… After all, it wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen your battered body and the hellish screams of your nightmares. In actuality, you’d much preferred having the full story, knowing the ending to your own story before sharing it with your world.  

Tip-toeing passed the thankfully busy head of HR, you abused the elevator button with all the might your index finger could dish out in the short seconds it took for the metal box to arrive. As the sinful golden door closed on the world busy with their head stuck in work, the breath you had been holding left your lips in a heavy sigh, heart finally began to settle. Shakily, your finger once more reaching toward the highest button amongst the endless rows, the one marked simply with a golden “K”. 

“Hello, this is Mr. Koo’s office.” 

“Hi, Seulgi. It’s Y/n. I have a meeting with Mr. Koo.” You replied, antsy and anxious, foot tapping uncontrollably praying Junhoe had forewarned her of your arrival.

“Oh, yes. He’s waiting.” With that, the elevator commanded itself to rise to the highest level where your prince charming awaited. Leaving you with exactly 45 seconds to once more staring into the reflective surface of the walls, pressing and flatting the stubbornness out of your baby hair only to give up, sighing in defeat because not even cement could help you. Strange how nervous you were, far worse than the horrendous amounts of pages you’ve written then had to immaculately presented in front of men worth billions combined. You waved at Seulgi whom was already sharing with you an empathetic look, knowing far too well the little scolding you had received and how before that, you’ve greeted her with redden eyes and smudged mascara despite the bright smile on your lips. You rushed a knock, to which the door swung open almost immediately, as if Junhoe had been pacing about right beside the grand threshold. 

“I honestly thought you changed your mind about coming…” He rushed out, greeting forgotten as he pulled you into a hug. The way his hand grasping firmly, fingers digging gently into your skin and how far he had nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, it was the action of a desperate man. Body uncomfortably contorting to accommodate for your small stature against his, he sighed in relief as your many folders abandoned, gliding carelessly onto the ground as you too wound your arms around his body. “Thank you.” Never mind the shock that had played upon your heart when the man suddenly sprung onto you, all you could feel was the appreciation pouring from his vulnerable self. 

“Junhoe, I literally just lied to my boss that I was sick so I could come see you. Have you so little faith in me?” You sigh a small laugh in amusement as nearly a minute had pass and his hold was nowhere close to being loosen. 

“But I’m your boss.” He muttered against your shoulder, not yet ready to relinquish the warmth you’ve given him.

“Yes, well, then all the more reason why you can trust me.” Parting way finally, though with the smallest whine that you didn’t think the great Koo Junhoe was capable of producing, he let you have a few inches, just enough so you could gaze upon that handsome face. “I risked my career for you, in more ways than one… Shouldn’t that tell you my intention?”

“I’m just…” He sighed, forehead resting against yours as his eyes fluttering shut, still in disbelief that you were here, in his arms. “I’ve treated you in ways no one should ever and... I wouldn’t be a surprise if you change your mind and walk away. I said I would do this the right way to only once more making you meet me in secret…”

“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I? If I wasn’t okay, I would tell you.” His reminder of your grim past together pulled your elated soul back to the ground of reality fast for what the night hold remained a mystery. Whispering a soft agreement, his arms finally unwound, gesturing for you to take a seat on the same set of couches that had hosted countless meeting of the hearts. For a minute, neither of you spoke, simply letting the air settling comfortably over the small intimate meeting. You stared at him, studying the sharp jaws and defined features that you were almost too fearful to take in as a whole before now. You’d focus on his eyes one meeting, then part of his lips on another, always parts but never the whole and this very second, you were left breathless. His eyes too, fixated on you but rather than studying, he was relearning the curve of your body, your dainty features. Bit horrible on his part really as a boss, but countless time he’d find himself lost in your beauty as you speak about some boring project. So instead of letting his mind be bother with details he knew you’ve already carefully gone over times and times again, Junhoe let his mind made acquaintances with the little details of your personality, your quirks, and your habits. He prayed that after tonight, you’d give him a chance to continue his study of you. 

“So…” you sighed gently, letting your eyes wandered about the grand office out of sheer nervousness. It was only now that your attention had been drawn to the nearly empty desk, messy and out of place, quite unusual of Junhoe who had prided himself in being able to keep his composure no matter what shit show was going down. Your eyes slowly trailed down to the chaotic mess strewn about the floor, shattered glass, spilt amber liquid staining the otherwise pristine floor. “Junhoe, what happened?”

“What?” Your question caught him amidst his day dream, shocking the living soul out of his body. His eyes widen in confusion before it faltered to a bit of sorrow once he realized just what you were staring at. “Oh, that… It’s nothing, Y/n. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

“there’s glass all around, I don’t want you getting hurt!” By the time his ears had registered the sentence, you were already up from your seat, trekking carefully toward the mess. 

“My sweet girl, after all I’ve done… You still worry about me getting hurt.” Before you could reach for the fragments glittering in the golden sun pouring in from the massive windows spanning the length of his office, Junhoe already got your hands safely cradling in his before gentle kisses falling down. “I don’t want you to get hurt again, from a mess I made…” You remained still, letting the fading warmth of a fleeting afternoon shrouded your heart and soul in the last bit of calm before all hell breaks loose. 

“W-Where should we begin?” Unable to contain any longer the drumming of your heart, anticipating the story you’ve for nights dreamt of, you broke the silent that was only delaying the real matters of the hearts. 

“I guess there’s one question I have to ask before we can move on…One that I suspect will clear up a lot for us.” There was a bit of bitterness behind his vague request, as if it was taking his entire being to bite back the poisonous thought that had fueled all the unreasonable things he had done. You nodded, entirely unsure of what was about to fall from his lips but by the way Junhoe’s lips had pressed into a thin line, brows furrowed in anger? In frustration? You didn’t know but whatever he was about to ask you, it couldn’t be anything good. “What is the nature of your relationship with Johnny?” He rushed through the questions, hating every second of it. “Outside of work, I meant.” 

“Nothing… We’ve gotten close through the few times you sent me to his branch for projects… but not much outside of work. Rarely even see each other outside of work.” Admittedly, confusion wasn’t the first emotion to cross your mind as fear overwhelmingly drowned your soul in its grasp. In all the months spent together, all the time he had lost his temper over mistakes, never before had you been more afraid for someone than you were this very second for poor Johnny. The way his name tumbled from Junhoe’s lips, it was as if the man before you completely vanished leaving behind nothing but the pure bitterness of anger in the empty shell of a person. His voice cold, eyes devoid of any spark, any warmth that would let you know he was the same person who had whined into your ears because you merely moved two inches away. 

“And that’s the whole truth?” He spoke up once more in the same demeanor, though you knew the emotion boiling his blood was not meant for you at all, it raised all the hair on your body and struck you with all the fear the world got to give.

“Yes, Junhoe. What other kind of truth is there… Obviously you have something specific in mind that you want me to admit to. And as much as I’d like to play along, I really don’t know. I’d rather you just be upfront with me. After all, isn’t that the point of this meeting?” Your voice stern but your tone was anything but as your heart drummed at light speed in the way Junhoe was tearing your body apart with his gaze. Your features stoned under the scrutinizing gaze, as if daring him to find fault in the words you had spoken.

“I saw you both that night, leaving together…”

That was all you needed to hear for every single piece of this giant, confusing puzzle that was the past few weeks to all fall into place. The derision in the elevator, the mixed signals, the mess laying still on the floor just a few feet away, everything made sense. How you’ve never connected his action to what happened that night between you and Johnny, was beyond idiotic, beyond careless. 

“Junhoe, I- I didn’t know” No doubt that panic was wrecking your body apart, yet deep down your heart heaved a sigh of relief for it hadn’t so grossly misjudge Junhoe, even if the words he had chosen, that was something you’ve yet to forgiven him for. Yet just knowing it was stemmed from something as painful as heartache, to know he wasn’t so unreasonable, so despicable was like the weight of the world lifted from your heart. “It’s not what you think, I swear.” 

“I just need to know… That I wasn’t so crazy to think we really did have something… even though we knew each other a mere few months.” His heart broke watching your features contorting, twisting so aguishly, desperately conveying the words he hoped could heal his heart. “You’re not that kind of woman, I know it. You won’t do something so horrendous even if I’m nothing but a jerk… would you?”

“No, I swear. It’s a misunderstanding.” You reached for him, hands trembling as they inched toward his and before you could give out under your failing nerve, Junhoe already wrapping his large one around yours. “Please let me explain.” With a gentle nod and the way his hands squeezing yours so tightly, you felt a surge of courage electrifying your heart. Junhoe had settled back into his seat, bated breaths anticipating your version of that night that hopefully would ease his heart out of the perdition it had been in… Even if it meant he was even more so a villain than he had already been to you. 

The memory of that night wasn’t one you needed much to relive for it had imprinted itself into every grain, every fiber of your being. It was magical, it was sinful, it was magnificent, and it was the last night of peace you had before the ship carrying your heart begun to sink. Your body could recall still the aching slowly settling between your legs and how you wished for nothing more than to abandon the pair of heels so carefully chosen to entice a certain man. As you stood there, in the far back corner pretending as though you hadn’t just crawled out of his office, looking far worse than when anyone had seen you last, your attention entirely captivated by the speech… And the man, of course. 

You were lost, intoxicated by that alluring voice, playing over and over again the things he had whispered, the things he had demanded of you just moments ago in your mind despite the boring formal nonsense he was spewing. Somewhere between thanking the workers and praising how well the food were, which was honestly a big fat lies for all either of you had tasted the entire night were each other, he locked eyes with you. It was subtle, and if you were just anyone else amongst this crowd drunk in the charms of the big boss, you would’ve missed the apparition of the tiniest smirk blooming behind that charming smile. But you weren’t just anyone, not anymore. So, you raised the champagne flute with the slightest nod of your head in return. 

As the night ticked on and the count of empty flutes grew dangerously close to double digits, your weary body wished for nothing more but to be wrap in a bundle under the safety of your blanket, especially now that you had realized the chance of getting close to him was slimmer than none. Irene had snuck away long ago, far more interested in her own adventure than the forced pleasantry of a company party. It was as good of a time as any for you to bid adieu to a wonderful night. You watched on for a moment, observing Junhoe getting lost amidst the world of the powerful and riches you don’t dare dream of ever being part of. That little hope that he’d see you off seemed more of just wishful thinking now as more men in expensive suits and women whom dresses sparkled brighter than your future joined in the conversation. How his smile still as bright as ever and his energy remained just as it was when he first stepped into the party, even after the eventful night you shared, you didn’t know. What you did know was mayhap it was best to leave him be, taking a quiet exit and leave the details of what was promised for another day. Though the silent exit you hoped for wasn’t as inconspicuous as you had wanted as the calling of your name echoed through the empty hallway leading to the parking garage. 

“Johnny! Are you leaving too?” You greeted the man jogging your way, sharp suit and amazing styled hair leaving you unashamedly ogling. And though possessing look and stature that left many wondering why he was stuck in an office rather than on a runway, Johnny was pale in comparison to Junhoe for the boss was in a league on his own. 

“Yea, I don’t know how much more I could take of shop talk. You’d think tonight would be the one night I can escape work while being at work but…” He sighed heavily, the few stray hairs draping over his forehead conveyed perfectly the frustration taut on the poor man’s forehead. “What can you do right?”

“Yea, well, at least you’re not amidst the gossips.” You whined, inciting a bit of a chuckle from the man known not for his laugh but sharp gazes and cold demeanor. Though you had always found that tidbid was a bit untrue. Sure, the intensity behind those beautiful eyes was enough to leave the men in fear and the women giggling themselves stupid, his smile was truly infectious. He was much gentler, much much more outspoken than Junhoe. 

“Hadn’t thought of that.” There was no denying Johnny’s incredibly attractive and the chemistry between you two, well if the 100% successful rate of your collaborations were of any evident, you’d say it was off the chart. Yet there was something lacking, the something that left you so utterly breathless when Junhoe even just simply as looked your way. Something in the way he speaks, the way he moves that left you weak, drawn to the man like moth to flame. It felt amazing the way your heart seemingly willingly submitted to Junhoe’s. Not to mention, even as you walked along side another man, listening to him, smiling up at him, your mind was consumed with the thought of Koo Junhoe, and Koo Junhoe alone. You hadn’t realized too the way Johnny’s eyes were lingering on your smile, the twinkles in them, as you both continued to walk into the night. 

“You seemed cold.” And before you could even protest, he already got the large jacket wrapped around your shoulders, hands pulling close the lapels to shield your bare skin from the frigid wind of the night. For a second, neither of you said anything and perhaps for very different reason for the action to follow was far more shocking than the escapade Junhoe had taken you on. You hadn’t got a chance to process your thought when you felt it, it was so delicate and light, far different from the abuse Junhoe had left upon your lips. Johnny got one hand on the small of your back and the other gently wrapping around the length of your jaw as he let his trembling lips stilled against your forehead, no doubt nerve giving out before he could place the dainty kiss upon your lips. Your mind scrambled for a reaction, but it found none, leaving your body to fare for itself. Yet maybe doing nothing was the best course of action for not a second later, he backed away, fear engulfing his entire being as endless apologies fell from his lips. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I shouldn’t have done that.” You could feel the panic slowly eating the man alive even though there wasn’t even a tiniest sign that you were mad at him. And that was the truth, you weren’t angry, not even close to for the emotion you had felt that very second was guilt. “This wasn’t how I wanted to do this but I, I’m so sorry. You looked so beautiful and for a second I was just lost in my thought and, and I-“

“I- It’s okay. I should be the one to apologize… I- I like you, I really do. But not in the way you might want me to, not in the way I feel about someone else.” You weren’t sure if a hug was the right thing to do but there was nothing else, no other solution your brain could conjure up to calm the man before you. The jacket he had so tenderly wrapped around your body shed, returning to its rightful owner as you pulled him into a comforting hug. “I’m sorry, Johnny. I can’t return your feeling. I’m really sorry.”

You couldn’t remember much else after Johnny had sent you off in a taxi, waving goodbye still with that small frown on his lips. You prayed that the night will be kind for him, and that dreamland too will offer some solace as you sped into the night. 

As Junhoe listened to your word, the guilt in his heart only festered, spreading further as his mind rounded the last darken corner of this story between you and him, flipping on the light of clarity. His body sunk further into the cushion of the couch that could barely support the weight of his heart, soft cusses falling gently from his lips. The world crumbling beneath his feet as each and every single word he had so angrily brandished in your face replayed in his mind, jeering, mocking. He stared at your sorrowful gaze and the bitter smile having to once more brought back the unpleasantness of unrequited love and thought of your cowering form and shivering shoulders. He knew that day as he observed your defeated form that you were crying, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at your reflection in the spotless surface of the elevator mirror. It would’ve broke him, made him pull you right into his chest and that wasn’t what he had wanted... He knew that his words had broken your heart but the burn of watching you with someone else, his pride, the intensity of it all were far too strong, so strong that even the feelings he had for you shuddered in fear. He very much regretted it now, and he knew it was far too late to speak of regrets. He had been immature, cruel in every way and Junhoe wished all the money he possessed could be traded in for one more chance to do right by you. But he knew too that time travel was only something fictitious, and something he would never do to you if it was somehow possible. And so, the only thing to do was to accept his wrongs, to be the man he hoped one day you could learn to love again. 

“You don’t have to believe me but that’s the truth. If you need, poor Johnny had been apologizing for ages even though all I felt was guilt.” As you reached for your phone, to show the proof that could once and for all exonerated your heart of all that it was accused of, Junhoe shook his head in defeat.

“I believe you, Y/n, it’s alright.” 

His head hung low in disappointment, in regret, and in shame. So fearful of being the last name he bear, of the person the world expected of him, Junhoe became blind to his own feelings. For Junhoe, being himself was something easier said than done for every action he had taken, it was done with meticulous planning. He worried of the opinions that shouldn’t matter but what else could he do, being in the position he was in, possessing the kind of power he had. The few times the smallest spark had glowed in his worn-out heart, Junhoe had always approached it with his eyes on the exit door, never fully given anyone his entire self. Now that he had a taste of what love could be like if he just let himself dive in without restraint, to give into the frivolousness of the primal part that he had long been so frightened of, to not be CEO Koo but to be just Junhoe, well, he couldn’t get enough. He didn’t know how you had managed to take down the wall he had so carefully crafted to protect himself, and for once in his life, he couldn’t care less. Caution to the wind as he let you in. He wanted you, wanted not just your body but your heart and soul. He saw a future with you that night, as messed up as it sounded. He saw a beautiful life laid out neatly for him as he ravaged your body to smithereens, and Junhoe was wholeheartedly ready for it. Needless to say, when he had saw you, felt the betrayal permeating through the now crumbled facade that had so long hidden him from the realness of heartache, Junhoe was livid. He had been so numb to his own feeling that just the tiniest bit of the paradise he had tasted opened a floodgate of emotions so great, it was beyond his control. He knew it was irrational to say the words he had said, horrid the things he had said. But the white rage burning in his chest, the bitterness of betrayal in his mouth, and most of all, the regret that he had once more let someone in only to be hurt... He never stood a chance against being consumed by hate. He gave in, into the hate and into the contempt, and blamed you.  

“There’s no word, nothing I could ever do that would be enough to make up for what I’ve done to you. I know my apology means nothing to you and it doesn’t come close to heal the damage I’ve done but… I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n.” Hearing your words now, witnessing the smile on your lips fading into the abyss of pain he had given you... His sweet, innocent girl, Junhoe couldn’t fathom a day where you’d love him again.

The hands that had been giving you warmth, supporting you through the retelling of that fateful night retrieved with haste as if any second longer, they would’ve poison you. Junhoe didn’t deserve your smile, nor did he deserve your touch. And it went without saying, your love wasn’t something he should possess for what he had done… He couldn’t love himself for. 

“I- I understand your anger, Junhoe… I do. You must’ve felt like a fool watching me with someone else when just moments ago promising, begging to be yours.” Bittersweet, if there ever was a single perfect defining moment for the word bittersweet, this was it. You knew his feeling, with all his heart and through all his actions, you knew. Yet you owed yourself to deal with the shame you’ve felt in your own way, to heal properly even though all you wanted was Junhoe. “But there are hundreds of ways you could’ve ask me, confront me, hell, yell at me. But what you did… I, I’ve never felt so humiliated, so betrayed before in my life.” Once more you were a sobbing mess, the feeling of descending from the height of heaven to the depth of hell just as fresh as the first moment and this time Junhoe was there for all of it. Though there wasn’t an ounce of courage in his heart to give into the urge of pulling you into his arms, he was still there, with that sorrowful gaze and concern plaguing his frown. “I really believed it all, your words, the sweet promises, I took it and held it close to my heart. The thought of going on a date with you, of seeing the you outside of this cold harsh place… To finally learn more about you, not Mr. Koo, not CEO Koo, just you! you can’t imagine how happy that made me. You took all the joy, all the hope of a girl wanting, needing love and burn it all to ash.”

“I know… I know…” The blood rushing through his heart knowing he had a chance with you, a real fighting chance toward something permanent plummeted him into an endless pit. A million things running through his minds, desperation was settling fast for Junhoe could feel you slipping right out of his hand with each second, each tear rolling down your cheeks. Would you hate him if this very second, he was to kiss away all your tears, kiss away that pout so heavy on your lips. 

“You called me a mistake, Junhoe. I was nothing more than your drunken, careless mistake.” If there ever was a measurement of how much words could hurt, Junhoe was entirely certain he had just reached its limit watching your soul withering right in front of his eyes.  

“Fuck, if you had told me that night that it was just sex and nothing more, I would’ve been perfectly content to just have one night with you and be on my way. I wouldn’t ask for anything else of you if that really all you ever wanted, but you promised me. You promised me, Junhoe.” The desperation in your voice, the frustration made him felt as if you were on the edge of a cliff of no return and he was the person who had force you there.  

“It took all of me to finally call you by your name, to ask about the future I thought I had a chance at. Yet I was left with nothing but shame and disgrace.” There was no controlling the tear washing away the bashful blush he had left on your cheeks from his hug and the shivers wrecking your body apart thinking of that morning, of the contempt tossed at you like a cold glass of harsh reality. Even now, even as you watch through your blurring, teary eyes as Junhoe slowly broke down, the sorrow eating his soul alive hearing your feelings, reservation remained in your heart. How could you not have doubt after you had watched him tear you down without even blinking an eye… As easily as taking in a breath. What worth were you really, against the person that was Koo Junhoe, against the monument that was his last name. 

“I swear to you, Y/n, I never meant for things to turn out this way.” He begged but, in his heart, he knew he didn’t deserve to beg. You trusted him, trusted his heart and trusted when he said you were special and what did he do? He stepped on your heart, stepped on your trust, and threw away all the love you had given him as if it was trash.

“What those girls said today…  It didn’t hurt because they had called me a slut or that I was just another notch in someone’s belt. I’m a grown woman, I can live my life however I want to, and if they want to call me name, ridicule me because they can’t understand that sex is natural, that’s on them.” The words you wished you could’ve thrown it back in their face, to defend your right as a person, heavy as they fall from your lips. You were comfortable in your own skin, comfortable with every decision you’ve made and if the world refused to understand then to hell with them all. The pain you felt sitting through their ugly gossips, it was something else entirely.  “It hurt because it wasn’t supposed to be just sex, it wasn’t supposed to end with another notch on your belt. It hurt, excruciating, because I truly thought you believed in it too… That in your eyes, I was just another fix. That all the sweet things you’ve said were nothing but lies. That at the end of the day, I’ll just be another faceless… used, figure in your path.” 

“No, Y/n. That’s not true.” Junhoe was at the edge of his seat, never before had so he desperately need for the god of persuasion to be on his side and never before had he felt so defeated. “I don’t care who said what about me. At the end of the day it’s just fleeting word in the breeze of time, it’ll go away eventually. But I need, want you to know that never in my mind were you just another face in the crowd. You’re so much more, my everything. I know my words… There’s no excuse and I’ll go to hell for it. I spoke out of anger, out of heartache that once more, I got burn by the woman I treasure with all my heart.” Despite the well-known last name and the face known… loved by millions, his past was something a mystery befitting of the enigma that was Junhoe. Not once were the details of whom he had been with was revealed yet you could see so clearly the damage that was done through his words, his actions. That however, excuse not the carnage he had done on your heart.

“I know where I stand on the grand scale that is the life of Koo Junhoe… You know me barely as a name of the paycheck you sign, there’s absolutely no reason you should give me your trust. Yet don’t I deserve at least benefit of the doubt?” You began, and he felt every bit of his inside twisting up in pain.

“Please don’t say that… I value you more than any woman, anyone that had come into my sad life.” The brilliant glint behind those eyes dimming out into something so dismal at the realization that he might’ve ruined whatever fleeting thread bounding your lives together… That you might never look at him the same, ever again… Those lingering loving gaze in between the heat of lust, he might never be able to see again. 

“I don’t know who had burn you in the past… But it wasn’t me.” You understood his pain, you really did, but if this relationship ever hope to be something in the vast lifestream of two young people trying to find love, it was something that needed to be said.  “If you don’t heal the wounds of the past, you’ll bleed onto the those who’ve never hurt you… so I hope you understand too that I’ll need time, to process and to heal.” 

“I understand…” The words barely audible as Junhoe let himself immersed in the weight of reality. “I can wait…” Hope flashed so vibrantly as he spoke the words, you could feel your heart smiling along with the small grin he offered up… But you weren’t sure yourself that was what you wanted, for him to wait. 

“Junhoe… I can’t ask you to wait, especially not when I don’t even know myself how long, or if I ever will.” There was no easy way, you knew for certain, so you let out your thought the only way either of you deserve – straightforward, even if it only hurt further. 

“Please, Y/n. Let me… If somehow-“ The words choked in his chest, heart far too weary to support the unfathomable thought of you never, ever again looking his way. “If by the end of it all, I’m not what you want then I will respect your decision. I won’t force my way into your life, I promise you.”

There was no denying the surging emotions enveloping your heart in a stormy sea of conflicts. You fell for him, far harder than you had for any man before, and there was an inexplicable nagging in the back of your mind that by week end, you’d be back in his arms. But that wasn’t a promise for you to make, at least not right this second. And it was never your desire for Junhoe to miss out on life, to feel as if he owed you his patient and his time even as horrible as the words he had said. You can feel the sincerity in his apology and his promise that there was never any ill will, with all your heart, you appreciated his truthfulness. At the end of the day, it truly was simply a misunderstanding. And the thought of him with someone else, the same way he had seen you with Johnny, well that was a thought that had your heart bleeding and soul raging. It was a thought that had begun to badger at the deepest corner of your heart to dive back in, to pick things up as if the horrid past hadn’t happened at all. Reluctantly, you nodded, allowing yourself one last hug before your broken heart and battered soul could be on their way toward recovery. 

For a long while, neither of you said much save for the few sniffles still lingering of emotions and hearts laid bare. Junhoe took his time, though he no longer let is hand grazing along your soft skin out of respect, he let his heart get lost in the way your cheeks redden, eyes glossy from tear yet still shining so brightly. He sighed mournfully, praying that this parting of the hearts will lead to a happy ending, no matter how long it might take. And although he was hopeful, he was ready too, to deal with the scenario he didn’t want to think of. As his eyes strayed from your seemingly peaceful form toward the mess he had made beside his desk, the issue of your resignation that was forgotten once more rising, discomfort steeling in his chest. 

“Y/n, your resignation… If you wish, I will sign it. Even if that goes against every single wish of mine.” He spoke carefully, treading the territory of unpleasantness, of not being able to see you every day. “Every word I had said stand true. If this place lose you, if I lose you...”

“I-, admittedly, when I had arrived this morning… I wanted nothing more than to leave this place that had caused so much pain. But now, I’m not so sure anymore.” 

“For now, I will keep it safe. When you reach your decision, I will do as you wish.” A bit of hope rising in his chest knowing that no longer were he so despicable in your eyes that leaving was the only thing you could do. Yet he made peace too with that dreadful worst-case scenario… You deserved at least that much from him. 

“Thank you. You’re a great guy, Junhoe. Despite everything that had happened between us and all that will, you’ll always have a place in my heart.”

“There’s no word that can express my feeling for you. And I think you’re sick of me saying it by now, but I really am sorry, for everything I’ve done. I will never stop making it up to you, for as long as you’ll let me.” Although the thick air of aching hearts barely lifting, there was a sense of elation shared between you both. It felt as though it was the good old day of silent flirting, of the uncertain feelings once more. “Is there any chance at all you’d let me finish what I started that night. I never got a chance to drop you off.” The lightness in his word signaled a new beginning for you both, even if you’ve got a long way to heal, it was something delightful. It was quite adorable the way Junhoe smiling so sheepishly, gaze averting out of the sheer chance that you’d laugh at him. 

“I suppose I’ll be needing a ride home seeing how I left so early. Unless you were planning on letting the head of HR going home early also?” You teased and watched his eyes lit up at the realization of what you had just said.

“I think Irene got quite the workload today. I’m sure she’ll be all grumpy at meeting tomorrow from how many files I gave her. Luckily, I do know someone that might be able to fill in the spot of the driver.” You forgot how effortless it was to be with Junhoe, far easier than it was with any man that came before despite the constraint of boss and worker looming over your relationships. 

“Hmm, and how much would Koo-ber cost me? I’m nothing but a mere office worker, I can’t afford top of the line luxury.”

“I think you’ve accumulated enough points to have free ride for the rest of your life.” His laugh crisp against the softening atmosphere of budding friendship, the brightest you’ve seen in ages.

Before the you both enter into the night, you insisted upon cleaning up the mess that you certainly had everything to do with despite Junhoe vehemently denying. Soft words spoken and stories of the past slowly emerged as you both huddle over the arrays of broken objects cluttering the floor. Although no closer to finding out about the scars of past love, you found out his love for martial art and boxing, both no doubt contributed to the amazingly toned body you had lusted over. He had learned of Irene’s mama bear persona that honestly left him sweating knowing that she too was aware of the nightmare, even if it was only surface knowledge. 

With one last parting hug, Junhoe sent you off, promising this time, he’ll be there till the end. Once more, the whirling of the golden elevator sending you off toward future unknown. This time, a sense of hope and elation wrapped you into a tight embrace. 

Just as he had promised, not long after you had rounded the corner toward the VIP parking, a smile bloomed on your lips at the sight of him jogging his way toward you. A smile too was on his lips. Not a minute later, under the roaring of his sleek black sport car (no doubt cost more than the price of your life), you both sped into the world still quietly at work. The thought of dinner running through his mind yet Junhoe dare not yet to speak of it. It was the first day of being friend, of leaving the past to move toward a better future. There was no need to rush so he let that thought go with a soft smile. The usual half hour ride felt a mere 2 seconds when small talk filled the time, carefree laughter mingled as you watch the road slowly filled with tired workers, happy that another tedious work day was over. 

There was no helping the beating of his heart as Junhoe stole a glance of you every now and then, to think that one day, the usual loneliness of an empty passenger seat would be dispelled by your warmth. It was a view he could get used to, just as well as the view of your lovely smile beaming so brightly as the retold of how utterly scared shitless the intern had been when you stormed off suddenly on the way to meet him. Even the soft, quiet grunt every single time your phone would buzz angrily from another text from Irene was endearing. After all, you had let her know that you were going ahead only for your phone to ding violently hundred times in a row. You tried to laugh it off, a bit rosy on the cheeks but he only found it cute. Even now as he watched you waving vigorously, standing at the entrance of your apartment, Junhoe felt his heart racing even if the future was still very much unknown, hoping that as the sun set on this beautifully eventful day that the worst was finally over and done with. You too prayed for a better future as you watch from the safety inside the gate of your apartment, knowing in just short hour time, the wrath of Irene will rain down upon your poor soul. No matter, to finally see him drive off, to have the happy goodbye you should’ve gotten that night was the closure you didn’t know you needed. Once and for all, you both could close the book on the night that was both sinfully amazing, wonderfully loving, but also regretfully painful. Finally, you can move on. 

If the thunderous footfall and loud bang of the door were of any indication, your life was about to end in the three seconds it’d take Irene to barge into your room. Right on cue, nostrils flaring, and hair looked about if she had just trekked through a category 5 storm without an umbrella, Irene appeared at the threshold of your room looking as if someone had just murdered her cat. 

“Y/L/N Y/N, tell me right how what the hell did you just do?”

“Did I just do what?” Hadn’t bothered looking up once since she tossed her heels unto your poor floor, reckless abandoned, you deadpanned with a gaze that irked Irene all the wrong ways. How could you be so nonchalant, aloof, laying there in your stupid panda PJ that she had bought, scrolling through your phone as if she hadn’t seen you half dead just this morning.

“What. The. Hell?!” With each syllable leaving her lips, a hard slap landed upon your butt with all the vigor a twenty something head of HR could dose out on an empty stomach. “You left with him, didn’t you?! Y/n!!!!!” She tugged and she pulled but you wouldn’t budge, laying still on your stomach though no longer letting your eyes running over the small conversation with Junhoe on your phone. 

“What, so what if I did?” Your flat delivery clearly didn’t amuse your best friend as hundred painful slaps rained down upon your back along with an ear-piercing screech of frustration. “Alright, stop! We talked things out okay?”

“What the hell even happened in the first place?”

With a heavy sigh, once more you let yourself soaring amongst the past, retelling the events of that fateful nights just as you had once before but this time, in a much different lights than that of your haunting nightmare. You told her of the tender moments to follow the sinful moans, of the misunderstanding, and of his anger. Your story continued well into dinner as you both huddling over the sizzling of meat, delectable scent and thick smoke couldn’t dim out the words. 

“So he thought you were two timing him and Johnny…” As the story closed out with your prince driving off into the sunset, Irene mulling over each details, pouring yet another much needed glass of soju to help her digest the insane week you had. “So instead of just confronting you like a normal human being, he what? Insulted you instead?” 

“Yea… that’s the gist of it.” 

“And you’re still talking to him, why?” The question leaving her lips perfectly clear, yet it had you lost in the bends and curves of your mind, of everything that had happened and everything you hoped will happened. Why, why were you so drawn to a man that had shown you nothing beyond the empty promises and hurt in the few short hours you got to know what it was like to be loved by Koo Junhoe. You knew nothing about him, absolutely nothing to say that by tomorrow’s morn he won’t be the same jerk that had left you in tear, the one that had disregarded your very existent. But for reason beyond your knowledge, you trusted him. Your heart glowed when he smiled your way, willing to lay its life to make him happy. You sat there in silent, staring at your dear best friend as the million thoughts vibrated through your mind. 

“Y/n? Did I lose you?” Irene repeated once more but you were nowhere and everywhere all at once, dazed eyes staring back at her, no, right through her. 

The flirtatious gaze, the sweet smile he had shared with you. For so long you’ve always thought that was just the kind of man he was, the kind of man befitting of the whispers in the far corners of the company. Then his smile warmed, and his tone softened. You noted the lingering touches, the accidental one that could very well be purposefully. You had always told yourself it was just a delusion of a girl crushing on her charming boss. Yet somewhere along the way, you had unknowingly let yourself given into that tiny spark that had grown into an uncontrollable flame of desire. You began flirting back, lustful smile and drawn out sweet words became natural as the days passed. And before you could even realize, it was an explosion of emotion that you didn’t, couldn’t tell since when the fuse was lit. All the fleeting praises, even the harsh demand, even the broken promises, all the memories Junhoe had given you rushed back in a split second. Winded, breathless, the rush of emotion vacated all the air from your lungs.

“Y/n!” Irene shook you by the shoulders, a loud grunt of your name had left her lips, scaring even the table beside your own. “You good?”

“I, uhm, think so?” You vague words eased her heart not as she continued to fuss over your dazed self. 

It was only now, after all the heartache, the heart to heart talk, and being able to lay it all out in front of someone with a clear perspective that you finally understood, that this overwhelming emotion finally hit you. It sunk in just how hard you had fell for that charming smile and alluring voice. Not just that but the sweet personality, the caring side you’ve so sparingly seen, but what you had was enough to keep you coming back. Given everything that your heart had gone through, not once did it get the chance to process the emotion without the pain. You were absolutely sure, without a doubt infatuated with the man that seemingly know naught about love. 

“Don’t tell me…” There were far too many reasons to count as to why Irene was your best friend. But perhaps the biggest one of all was her ability to always know what was on your mind. No word needed but Irene always know what to say, what emotions was running through your heart and this very second, as you sat there with that dumbfounded look plastered on your shock-stricken features, it too hit her. “Don’t tell me. Y/n, you barely know the guy! How could you love someone you barely know, let alone hurt you?” 

“I- I’m not saying that any of it make sense, okay? I barely got the whole story myself and I’m figuring things out as I go.” You said words you knew would appease the angry mother bear, yet within your heart, there was no second guessing just how smitten you were with Koo Junhoe. 

“As much as I hate this, and him. I don’t give a shit if he can fire me.” 

“Irene!” The piece of meat that had tasted like heaven, frozen in in your throat, harsh cough falling from your lips as you tugged at your unfazed best friend. 

“What, it’s true. I don’t give two shit about what he thinks or has to say. But I know you, and I care about you, and you’re the most stubborn bitch I’ve ever met. So, I know there’s no changing your bullheaded mind about this, therefore I won’t stop you from loving him. Hell, what do I even know about love anyways to stop you. But do know that I think very little of what he did.  Regardless of who did what to him in the past, he’s a grown man, he should know better than to berate someone simply because he got a little hurt. Don’t just run back into his arms just because you think you love him. That doesn’t change anything he did.”

“I won’t… I owe myself that much.” She was right, and as much as you want for this to be a rom-com with a tearful reunion and a grand happy ending… The tear you cried, the shame you felt, they were still like a bruise darken on your heart. Love or not, it’d just be another thing you’d have to deal with in the days to come. 

As the night slowed to a halt, flashing neon and boisterous laughter of friends faded away for another peaceful sleep, you too rest your mind and heart. Solace blanketed over your small apartment, as you waved Irene goodnight. The wounds left by the past had yet to heal but no longer did it ached deep within your bones; an itch finally satisfied. As you pulled over your body the thick blanket that hadn’t kept you safe from the restless nights of the past few weeks, you wondered if the night too had been kinder for Junhoe. You knew this wasn’t the outcome he had hoped for, despite the weight of misunderstanding no longer sinking your soul to the depth of hell, you knew that full well. But it was a start, and for now, you hoped it’d be enough.

You knew life from there on out would be far less taxing and heartbreaking, but the easiness of how it carried on as if the weeks of turmoil and heartache had simply vanished from existent still didn’t fail to surprise you. By the 2nd week passing, it had become effortless to let go of the harsh words and resentment harbored for the man your heart longed for. Sure, part of you were still reeling from the humility and suffering, but you found yourself light. The dumb moonstruck smile you had always given him were once more back on your lips every time he’d look your way. He too, sporting a brilliant smile as often as he could, much to the shock and poor hearts of the entire work force. The gossip squad too, seemed to have moved on from the mystery women that had left their boss so flustered that one fateful night. Instead, they’re not tirelessly debating his sudden change in demeanor. Not that they had much to complain about honestly, giddy and giggling themselves stupid every time he swung by for an office visit with a smile on his lips. 

True to his words, Junhoe returned back to those days when you could only refer to him as Mr. Koo. Though you suspected it wasn’t without difficulties for the way his eyes would linger on you just a tad longer, smile just a bit brighter, and of course, the softness in his voice whenever your name tumbled from his lips. You suspected too that it was something neither you nor him had much control over given your history. And in many ways, you were glad for the little moments in an otherwise mundane day to let you know that his feeling for you hadn’t dull, even as the sun risen and set over the 3rd week of loneliness. 

Though your work life was as normal as it had always been, in the slow moments of days, moments when work eluded your weary mind and a break was much needed, your life was anything but. Sweet messages and even on rare occasion when Junhoe would be in a particularly good mood, a selfie would grace you with its present. The first time he had sent one over, it was a rather strenuous day when meeting hadn’t gone right, and the world was seemingly out to get you. It was rather late in the night; the LED light of your office was still very much buzzing, and the long report was nowhere near ending. You hadn’t expected any call, no texts, not even a social media alert when his name flashed across your screen, stealing all the attention you’ve got to give that very moment. Your heart already drumming thousand beats a second, even if the disappointment that he was probably wishing you a goodnight already souring in your chest. Nothing, and you meant it, absolutely nothing could’ve prepared you for the picture that popped up on your screen as you let out a less than human-liked screech. The suit you had seen so impeccable over his body just hours ago in meeting gone. In its place a soft knitted sweater with neckline far more tempting than the devil himself. His hair had been wet, few locks matted to the front of his forehead, so different from the neat style he wore daily in the office, so casual. It left you wondered of the life Koo Junhoe carried beyond the walls of this massive company, of the him in mundane daily life. But the thing that had your heart wanting to give up on life, and soul vanishing into the depth of the universe was that beautiful smile bright on his lips. You couldn’t stop staring, not even when the report you had been waiting for hours dinged loudly on your laptop, far too mesmerized by the suddenness, the boldness, and him. The text had been so simple, “stay strong”, but it meant the world to you. He had been aware of the issues that had kept you still chained to your desk even when the moon had long reigned the sky. And as much as he had wanted to stay, eyes lingering on your worn-out form when he had left the office just an hour ago, a promise is a promise. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t give you a bit of encouragement, a bit of motivation to get you through the rough night. And there was nothing in the rulebook to stop him from sending you delivery dinner either. 

Though it wasn’t often you were spoiled with a picture of the man, phone calls were fortunately far less elusive. Sometimes even deep into the hours of the night, under the soft moonlight, you’d both enjoy the shared silent and rhythmic breaths over the phone, not a word said yet you were both content. Eventually, you had learned that it was rather easy to draw out a soft giggle from the man despite his stone-cold appearance. You’ve lost count of the time the entire board of supervisors had gone under mass hysteria and collective meltdown as Junhoe let out a soft giggle. You’d done it on purpose, sending him a cute message or even a joke you had been saving for a rainy day while waiting for the meeting to officially start. Oh the look and the strange stare they shared with one another. It was utterly comical to you really because you’ve gotten used to his strange humour and how beautiful his laughter was, yet to the company, he had been the same cold, standoffish man of the past. Though you surmised that would soon change for the façade he had built for himself was slowly melting away as he opened up more and more each day to the rest of the company.

Despite finally letting his true self shined through at work, Junhoe’s effort in keeping it professional around you didn’t go unnoticed. He had hid his heart’s desires so incredibly well that even the secret privy, eagle eyes head of HR herself couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary.More than once she had stormed your office, your room, and even once when you had been so leisurely enjoying a nice warm bath to question the sincerity behind the big boss man.

“Are you sure he’s still into you?” Slamming the lid of your toilet with all the energy her tiny body could mustered up, Irene thrown herself upon the ceramic throne with a huff, ignoring completely the shock spreading through your features. She got that typical Irene stare that burn you with all the inquisitiveness she possessed. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? You couldn’t wait till I’m done to ask that?” You splashed a bit of bubbly water her way, earning an unusually hard slap upon your shoulder. 

“Oh, or are you guys banging again? Is that why he’d been so happy lately?”

“Irene!” You scolded but there was no stopping the train of curiosity. “What’s with you? First you were disapproving of him, now suddenly he’s not lovey dovey enough?”

“What? I just want to know that you were in good hands. I’ll castrate him if he hurts you again.” The coldness in her eyes, that devilish smirk, suddenly you were curious if your dear best friend had a dark past that she had been hiding from you. 

“I will keep that in mind… Geez. And anyways, have you not noticed how he had been “visiting the departments for routine checkup” more often now?” With your fingers air quoting vigorously, the lightbulb in your best friend’s mind finally went off. She slapped her thigh, hard, only to wince silently, wondering how you had been taking her hand all these years without needing to go to the ER.

“Oh, is that why? I thought it was because he made me hired like billions of new workers recently… Sly, I like it!” Irene had reached over to slap you in excitement but stopped short realizing just how close you were to pulling her right into the bath. 

“You’re a literal yo-yo I swear, could you just decide on whether you love or hate him, please? So I can live in peace.” You sighed, thumb and forefinger rubbing hard at the ridge of your nose as Irene cackled, clearly enjoying vexing you out. “Besides, he’s doing what he promised to. Isn’t that what matter most?” 

“I know I haven’t been exactly nice about him, but I do respect him for sticking to his words. But I have to ask, does he at least show interest in you in privacy?” Your mouth dropped open at her question but cut short before the words could form. “I don’t mean that privacy, nasty! I mean when it’s just you and him. Does his tone change? Is he sweeter than normal?” By the change in her tone, you knew the conversation had gone into a completely different territory, and this Irene wasn’t the one nosy about your sex life nor leaving empty milk carton in the fridge on purpose to annoy the shit out of you.

“It’s kind of crazy. Obviously during work, he stays professional. Yet the second the clock ticks five, it’s like he’s a completely different person.” You mulled over the duality of the man, knowing just when to be soft and when to be stern. “When we talk on the phone, text even, he and our CEO might as well be two completely different person.” You sighed gently, far too lost in your own thought to even remember Irene was still very much perching on the edge of your toilet. 

“Have you not seen each other in person since?”

“No… I didn’t think that was a good idea. I mean when we have private meeting, I could tell he really tried his best to stay professional. Yet sometimes if our hands accidentally touch, or if I sit a bit too close, I could see it in his eyes, that moonstruck look.”

“Wow, if you told me a month ago our boss has a soft side, I’d have thrown you off the roof of our company.” The way Irene cheered and clapped; you would’ve thought Junhoe was merely a robot knowing nothing of emotions.  “More importantly, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m content, I guess. It starting to feel a lot like the beginning, back when I was just another worker crushing on him. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel like I’m 16 again really falling for someone for the first time ever.” It was hard to explain exactly the way Junhoe made you feel, the butterflies in your stomach, as if your heart had grown wings. When was the last time you felt such pure, innocent love for someone, you couldn’t recalled. For so long you’ve learned to be good to yourself, to be okay with being alone, to love yourself. Yet there were always those cold night, those weekend mornings when Irene would be skipping her way to brunch or some crazy adventure with her beau and you’d feel the tiniest pin pricking at your heart. You were happy for her, happy for yourself but sometimes, sometimes you do wish for that one person that could accept you unconditionally. You had never placed that expectation on Junhoe, not at all when he had pulled you into his arms that night in the elevator. You thought it was just a one-night stand, a few glorious hours in heaven with the country’s most eligible bachelor. Yet promises of the future got your heart in a twist and all you could think of since was sharing body heat on a cold rainy day, of dinner for two, and of the simple mundane moments spent in content silent. 

“I’m happy for you! Have you thought about when you’ll talk to him again? I’m not rushing you by any mean, but it’s been a month, Y/n. Are you close at all to forgiving him?”

“In all honesty, I think I’ve already forgiven him the second I agreed to let him wait for me. I understood where he came from, but what he said, it still wasn’t right.” You’ve told yourself a million times that you’d do this your way, and if that meant never being with Junhoe, you were ready to accept the consequences. That didn’t mean part of you wasn’t yearning for the day you could forget about the past and proudly call him yours. 

“I know I haven’t exactly been nice about him but, I could tell everything he had done so far, good and bad, it was out of his feeling for you. I can understand being so overwhelm and blind by your emotion, you begin to forgo all rationality.” That was something you hadn’t much experience with, being so blind by love, letting emotion dictates your action. But from the countless time Irene had broken down in your arms after a heartbreak, you always knew she meant well and by all means in the world she was a good person… Yet her action, her words in the moment had made absolutely no sense, the person she was in that single moment in time was so foreign, you wanted nothing more but to dissect her brain to confirm she really was still your best friend. 

“I know… He made a grave mistake, and even as hurtful as everything had been, I feel like he doesn’t deserve to be persecuted simply because he followed his heart’s instinct. And I know this is a bit of a reach but, I just needed to know, to be sure that 5 years from now, I won’t be resentful of something I thought I dealt with. As time goes on, there’s not a single doubt that I already fallen in love with him. But that love will mean absolutely nothing if I can’t let go of that hurt, if guilt dictates our relationship and future. I’ve forgiven him, but I need to make absolutely sure I can let go and forget about an event that quite honestly was the defining moment of our relationship.”

There was no denying the anticipation bubbling very close to the surface whenever you knew a meeting with Junhoe was in the near future. Yet the days to follow your conversation with Irene, it officially reached an unprecedented height when the anticipation had fully grown into nervousness. Butterflies thrashing its wings in your stomach and with each second passing, you were a tick closer to bearing the content of your stomach for the world to see. Even if you knew it was merely for a morning briefing, even a quick lunch with about 10 other poor souls suffering through a stuffy meal with the big boss. You didn’t care, your heart didn’t care because every second you had with him was every second longer you’d have to hold you over the entire weekend long of not seeing Junhoe. It felt so much like the first time you had gone out with a boy, counting down every second until you could see him again and every second away, was every single second of being torture. Each goodbye was getting a bit harder, and the excitement once glowed in your chest for a fun weekend no longer what it used to be. Two entire days, two entire days without that handsome smile, without feeling his warmth. As your step echoed closer to the conference held beyond the grand doors you’ve now grown fond of, sadness slowing your feet. Hesitation stopping your knuckle short of rapping against the wooden surface you knew hold your entire heart, soul wishing it had more time but alas, punctuality was something Junhoe favored. 

The thought of the weekend to come pushed aside, but there wasn’t much helping the grimace on your face and the emotion steeling in your chest. You must’ve looked like you had lost your entire life saving because it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the big boss, scowl already on his lips. You had settled beside your supervisor, discomfort written so clearly over your features had him worried. Even as the meeting went on, his eyes lingered back to you often, wanting, needing to know what had got his favorite person so down not even a smile was shared. 

In a flash, the meeting you once thought as dreadful had gone by far too quick and once more it was time to shuffle back to the loneliness of your own office. Purposefully taking far too long packing up your folder, you were last to file out from his office. Yet before your sadden self could make it through the threshold, gentle hand wrapped around your wrist, the first time he had touched you since this budding friendship was formed.

“Ms. Y/n, if you could stay back for a few minutes. There are a few things I’d like to add into the project.” His voice warm against your soul, giving just the right boost for a smile to blossomed on your lips. 

“Yes, sir.”

Admittedly, he had hated when you utter those honorific term. It felt like a stab in his chest, a reminder that he’ll always be your boss and that was how your relationship will always be. Yet now, he had begun to find it adorable the way you had more than once let his first name slipped only to stuttered out the term to cover up the embarrassment bright red on your cheeks. Now and then, you’d say the term far too often, and he wondered if it was your way of reminding yourself that the world existed beyond just you and him. He had long accepted too that it was simply part of your job, and despite how smitten he was with you, on surface level you were still very much boss and worker. You bore no ill will behind those terms… Not the way you once so bitterly bit out “Sir” to spite him. 

“Pardon my suddenness but, are you feeling alright?” Junhoe hoped you’ll forgive him for being so forward, for letting his finger gently smoothing over your redden cheeks. It was torturous, the half hour of business jargons being spew and he could do nothing but watch the sorrow lingered in your voice. You had delivered an exceptional job as always, but he couldn’t bear the way you sounded so grim, looking so grim. “Something is wrong, I know it. I’m worry.”

“I’m okay, honest.” You feigned a smile but the way his eyes burning, boring into you, Junhoe wasn’t buying it. The small sight leaving his lips was all the more gut wrenching as he turned away, sauntering back to his seat. You felt as if you had lied to a puppy. “It’s just, Irene is leaving for the entire week for a trip and, it’s the first time she’ll be gone this long since we moved in together. I guess I’m just…” Would it be crass for you to say that word, lonely. How could you be lonely when Junhoe was here, every day, waiting for the moment when you decided that you were too. 

“I see…” He nodded simply when the rest of that sentence failed to leave your lips, entirely unsure himself as to what he could do. Millions question running through his mind but the courage in his heart slowly dwindling.

“yea… It’s silly. Don’t worry about me.” Silent settled over the once grey, stuffy office. Sun shining brightly through his windows, highlighting so perfectly the man with his attention entirely on you. It was only now that you had realized this was the first time you and he were truly alone. Even if it was under the guise of work, you finally had Koo Junhoe all to yourself. “I’m sorry, I’m probably cluttering up all your time. I should go.”

“No, no… I- I mean, work hour nearly done anyways.” It burned you to see the hesitation in his action, in his words. You knew he wanted nothing more than to be with you, but he yet dared asked for it. Perhaps now was as good a time as any to address the heaviness weighing down your heart, the last bit of constraint holding the both of you back from the future.

“Any plan for the weekend?”

 “Nothing much, probably just gym.” Admittedly it surprised him to hear you ask of his plan, especially one for the weekend. But that bit of hope that flared every time you smile at him, raging once more. 

“That’s it? Aren’t you supposed to be jetting off to some amazing destination in your private jet, sipping champagne or something?” You quipped with the brightest sparkles of surprise in your eyes and it left Junhoe doubling over in laughter.

“Goodness, someone clearly seen too many drama. I’m not that kind of CEO, Y/n. I enjoy the simple things in life. Plus, if I run off to some crazy destination every weekend, who’s going to do my work for me?” That was true, he wasn’t much into the lavish lifestyle many in his position might enjoy. Not that spontaneous moments where he’d fly off toward some paradise doesn’t exist, or that he had never taken first class or own a personal private jet, those moments definitely happen now and then. He just much preferred having someone to share and enjoy those moments with, and this very second, the person he’d give his life to have accompanying him was you. What good would a vacation do if it only meant he’d be far away from you, letting his every waking hour filled with thoughts about you. 

“How about you? Any big plan?” His question simple yet the thought behind it, was anything but. He wanted to know if you were going out with anyone, he wanted to know if you’d consider going out with him… But he had promised you. 

“Irene is leaving straight from work so once that clock hit 5, I’m officially flying solo with no plan.” You tested the water, watching as the corners of his lips curved up with the softest touch of happiness yet he said nothing. “Usually Friday night is girl night out but…” Your voice trailed off, and Junhoe found himself dumbly nodding along, unable still to offer up dinner. 

“I see…” 

“Since you don’t have any plan… Would you want to go grab a tea or coffee or something? If it’s not too much trouble that is…”

“I- really?”

“Ah, forget it… It was just a thought.” It was silly, your heart still wavered so after the hundred times Junhoe nearly declaring his love for you, after all you both went through. 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’d love to, but are you sure I’m good enough to replace Irene?”

“Well, I don’t know if replace is the right word… Definitely do not let her hear you say that.” You heeded a teasing warning.  “But I think you’re overqualified, if anything, I’m under qualify to hang out with you.” You said with a teasing wink, yet the gaze returned was anything but. 

“I’m sorry. Please don’t think that…” You meant it as a joke, you really did, but to Junhoe, that sentence carried weight he wasn’t sure he could handle. Hope and happiness vanished from those beautiful eyes as the weight of the past glossed over with grey cloud of storms. You couldn’t help but felt your heart break at the way he retreated back, so small and powerless. 

“Junhoe… I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just, I want you to know that…” His mind scrambling, finding the right words to express his feeling but all his thought lost the second he felt your hand gently caressing peace back into his heart. In the few seconds he had stood there muttering and babbling his way through the mess his brain had melted into, you had found your way to his side, breaking all his expectation. Was this a dream? Junhoe thought as he let his arms wound around your body, feeling your warmth, your hands patting gently on the broadness of his back. 

“I don’t deserve this…” he muttered gently into the crook of your neck, nuzzling in so close, taking all he could before his time was up. 

“You do, everyone deserve a second chance.” 

In that very second, the world was right in Junhoe’s eyes. This, this was how everything was always supposed to be. Soft and gentle moments with you, no pain, no tear. He had been so desperately praying for this moment for so long, that just being here with you felt like a dream, and the world stood still, this moment frozen in time so he could savor every bit of it.

As you stood there, letting him have all the time he needed, feeling the neediness in his touches, and sincerity in his words, clarity washed over you with the force of the universe. You had thought healing meant taking time to yourself, to really let the hurtful words of the past settled in before you could release it back into the world as nothing but fading memories. Yet now, standing here in his arms, it had never been clearer that the last part of this journey your heart had been on toward recovery, the last 2% that was still faintly bruised needed Junhoe. He was the key to your last step toward a normal life, a life full of happiness. You both had finally broke down the first gate toward forever and there won’t be a thing to stop you from here on out.

In the end, your little plan of having a nice chat over coffee was thoroughly thwarted by the pesky hands of rush hours. You both might’ve been ready to take that first step into the future but apparently, the world had another plan. You favorite café had been teeming with cranky, caffeine craving office workers, either needing the boost for overtime or to stay awake long enough for a good night out. You glanced left, then right, only to start back at Junhoe with the saddest pout you could mustered up in disappointment. 

“I didn’t realized it was this busy, I’m sorry. I know you’d much prefer more privacy.” You apologized hastily, nearly being bulldozed out of the way by a large group of women pushing past you. 

“That’s alright, maybe next time.” He sighed regrettably, hiding a small grin rooted in just how much he wanted to squeez3 your cheek, and that the adorable little pout on your lips made him wanting to buy out the entire place just for you. “I hope I’m not crossing the line, but…” His pause had you at attention, sadden doe eyes staring back at him awaiting. “Would you perhaps want to get dinner with me? We both need to eat and that way, at least I can fulfill my duty as your companion?” Hope resting on each word, each smile, and each breath, sincerely hoping he’d abled to convinced you. 

“I supposed I could use some food right now. But I’m still paying though, so please go easy on my wallet!”

Nothing else he could do but let a soft defeated laugh falling through his parted lips, unable to protest for the honor of paying for dinner when you had already excitedly skipped off toward his car. Once more, his passenger seat was warmed with more than just to-go container, or his trusted briefcase. And although he hadn’t yet dare to reach over and grab your hand, just having you humming along to the radio was enough for now. 

In the end, after realizing that it was indeed a Friday night, and every decent restaurant in your price range had a waitlist longer than your life expectancy, you both ended up hovering over bags of fast food. Even if the quality of dinner was less than subpar, your conversation, your companion was more than enough to make up for. As laughter grew familiar, likes and dislikes became known, and the moon was once more high in the sky, it was time to part way. Although you both had driven from one end of the city to another in search of food, and even longer lingering about after all the food had been eaten, the night still ended far too soon. 

Under the pale moonlight, Junhoe once again feeling the weight of goodbye heavy on his heart. Feet dragging purposefully through the parking lot of your apartment, he wished time would stop so he’d have this moment forever. Goodbye had always been hard but now that he knew what it was like to spend time with you, no hurt, no pain hanging over your conversation, it seemed to be exponentially harder to watch you walk away. 

“Thank you for tonight, I enjoyed your company greatly!” You teased to hide the sadness in your heart, not yet ready to part way. 

 “No, thank you for spending time with me, and for dinner!” Neither you nor he was ready to leave, letting the soft cold air of the night lulled you both into a comforting silent. Dinner was done, drink finished, what other reason there be to keep him close?

“Can I be honest with you?” Somewhere deep within your heart, the tiniest speck of courage had reached up its hand to guide the truth from your lips. You voiced up timidly, staring at your feet shuffling in place, his hands hanging beside his body and you suddenly craved that feeling of being hold. 

“What’s wrong?” Concern laced his tone, more so since you couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Earlier, when I said to not worry about me, and that I was down about Irene leaving town for a week… That was a lie. The real reason, well, it’s kind of silly…” You chuckled but it eased his heart not. The way you were staring off into the distant, avoiding his eyes, Junhoe was sure he had done something wrong but cursed his tiny brain for not remembering. 

“You can tell me anything.”

“I, I was really down because weekend meant that I won’t be seeing you for two entire days…”

“Oh, sweetheart…” He hoped the little nickname leaving his lips wouldn’t offend you, in truth, he really couldn’t help but utter it because you were, in all rights in the world, his sweetheart. Your confession left Junhoe spinning, heart skipping all the beats, and his soul rejoiced. If there were ever any reservation preventing his arms from weaving themselves around your body, all that had been banished. “I’m only ever a phone call away…” He held you so close, so close he swore he could feel your heart drumming in your chest. 

“But, it’s not the same as seeing you… Besides, I can’t just bother you any time of day because I’m clingy.” The whine leaving your lips left Junhoe both in awe, and in absolute confusion. It was so sweet, to think you longed to see him in the hours apart, well, it left his heart swelling so large, Junhoe felt as if all the air in his lungs had just vacated in unfathomable bliss. Yet how could you not realized that he would give his life to spend every possible second with you. It was mind boggling to think that you were still doubting just how much he want to be by your side. 

“Y/n, this whole time, I’ve been worried sick that you never want to see me again… And here you are, calling yourself clingy?” The shock rippling through his features was a fraction of the overwhelming emotion in his heart. “Sweetheart, I’d give my entire company away if it meant you’ll spend just an hour with me.” He hadn’t even known it was a possibility, still patiently waiting for the day when you’d come back to him, fearing you never wanted to come back. But now, soft laugh rumbling through his chest, pure bliss as he watched a satisfying smile bloomed on your lips before you leaned into his chest. 

“I mean, giving away your company is a bit overboard… I was just going to ask for a few hours of your time.” You chewed over the offer he had just playfully given, feeling yourself falling into Junhoe. 

“Does that mean I get to see you this weekend?” Happiness washing over his existent as you hummed a soft yes into his chest, no closer to relinquishing your hold over him. A smile Junhoe thought was gone the second you had walked away returned to his lips, far more brilliant than any smile before in his life. 

“As much as I want to stand here all night with you, it’s getting late. You should go get some rest, highly recommended if you were to put up with me all weekend long.” You jested with a small wink, forcing yourself to part way with the comfort of his hug.

“Nonsense!” Your carefree laughter shooing away the coldness of the night, and Junhoe wanted nothing more but to be the person that make you laugh for the rest of his life. “It is getting quite chilly, get in before you fall ill.” Junhoe stood there at the front of your apartment, waving until he could no longer see you. There was a point in time when that image weighed so heavy on his heart, watching your figure disappearing behind a closing door. But now, a new hope, new happiness replaced that heaviness and for once, Junhoe was excited for another sunrise. 

For the first time since that fateful night, you’ve awakened in solace and contentment. This journey of healing, of rediscovering yourself had been wonderful, and amazing in every way possible. You’ve processed the hurt and accepted Junhoe’s sincerity, but what you did too was reassuring yourself once more of your self-worth. No word, no man, no matter how amazing he might be, could ever take away any part of you or could ever again make you doubt yourself. You’ve accepted what he had done, the severity of it, and given yourself all the time it needed to finally move pass it without even a hint of resentment. It was a magnificent month, but it was time to move on, and you’ve never been more ready. 

Excitement fresh in your chest at the thought of the bind of boss and employee finally being broken. Gone were the prying eyes waiting for the next hot topic for gossip. Gone too were the stuffy façade you’ve had to put up and the constraint of time being placed on souls that wanted nothing more than to be free. You’ve got all the time in the world, all the time to get to know Junhoe as he is, the Junhoe beyond the impeccable suit and fearsome reputation. As you bounced excitedly by the elevator whirling toward its destination, a sudden dread filled your stomach when your eyes met your own reflection in the smudgy mirror. 

The you of beyond the the office wall and boring business jargon had been a mystery to Junhoe thus far. He know nothing of the you hiding behind the façade of the perfect worker you had so painstakingly created… And the heartbroken girl crying over lost love. This you, plain and nothing like the formidable woman respected by your subordinate, what if this boring and average you isn’t what Junhoe wanted afterall. 

As the overworked elevators door struggled to pull open, begrudgingly readying itself for another busy day, the atmosphere suddenly vacated the room. Lightheaded and nervous, each step taken toward the outside world was a step closer to your heart just finally flatlining, drumming erratically as your eyes adjusted to the bright sun. Yet the second your eyes laid upon that familiar smile, all the worry of the world vanished just as fast as it had intruded your perfect dream. There he stood, in the same spot you had waved him goodbye the night before, so perfect. He was in simple black jeans and white t-shirt, red plaid flannel hung loosely over his tone frame. The hair normally so neatly pushed back now soft and relaxed, framing his feature so perfectly. 

So long you’ve always wonder what this would feel like, the scene played out in nearly every drama you’ve watched… What would it be in real life, to have Junhoe waiting so patiently for your arrival, excitement bubbling so close to the surface, ready for the big first date. The emotion surging through your vein now, it was nothing short of your expectation and so much more as you rushed toward the handsome man, wholeheartedly awaiting you. 

“Sorry, did I make you wait long?” The elation in your heart soared to an unprecedented height as Junhoe wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you so tightly, he dispelled nearly all the nervousness previously occupied your soul. 

“Not at all! Even then, I wouldn’t mind waiting all day if it means I can see you.” Sighing gently, Junhoe reveled in the way you fit so perfectly in his hug. 

He stilled for a second, letting your giggle caressed joy into his heart. Once more you were occupying the passenger seat beside him, yet this time, this time he was brave enough to gently cup your small hand in his. His heart bloomed when a small bashful smile blossomed on your lips as his fingers intertwined in yours, holding so tightly as the wheels of his car rolled forward into your first date. 

Perhaps a bit silly, but your breath was taken away the very first time you laid your eyes upon the sight of him so effortlessly taking on the road. Despite the heartbreaking talk that had sent you off that night, his posture seemingly peaceful, one hand gently resting on the steering wheel, fingers tapping along to the beat of the thumping speaker. His eyes focus intensely on the paved road meandering the city street lined with high rises. Leaning back into his driver seat, Junhoe got his other arm resting precariously on the window’s ledge, fingers toying with those soft lips you’ve missed so much. Now and then, he’d glanced side way as he commanded the car to switch lane, giving you the perfect peek at his stunning profile illuminated so perfectly by the settling sun. Your eyes traced out the defined edges of his nose, down to those delectable lips, to the sharpness of his jawline. Never before had you seen a man so perfect, the sight beholding so surreal, it left you speechless. Soft brown locks no longer pristine, draping slightly over his forehead, creating an almost divine glow with the aid of the honey rays of the golden hour approaching. You thought nothing could’ve made the experience more perfect and your heart thrashed in its cage for that moment to last forever. 

How wrong you were then, because this very second as you leaned in close, taking in a long whiff of the sultry mix of his intoxicating cologne and something very Junhoe, your soul slipped into a euphoric high. The way his hand wrapping so tightly around your own, the smile mesmerizingly beautiful on his lips as he spoke of his morning left you in the highest state of happiness. The longer you let yourself lost in that sweet voice and amazing smile, the more you want for nothing else but to spend the rest of your days just like this, by his side. 

“You’re staring at me quite bit there, sweetheart.” Junhoe mused gently, a smirk already tugging at the corner of his lips when you jumped slightly from your seat.  “Do I have toothpaste on my face? I spent so long getting ready too, shame…” He feigned a pout, knowing full well just what… why you had been staring so intently at his every movement. 

“I- Don’t mind me.” You said with a small cough as if it could clear away the embarrassment settling fast on your rosy cheeks. You forced your eyes ahead, shrinking further into the soft leather seat as Junhoe chuckled gently.

“I can get used to it…” He sighed so gently, so suddenly, you were left ogling once more in confusion. “The staring, I can get used to it if that meant you’re next to me all the time.” He glanced your way, smiled brightly when a tiny grin spread on your lips before you caught yourself staring once more, retreating back to your stoic stare at the road ahead. A hearty chuckle rumbled through his chest and something sounding awful lot like “cute” lost in the laugh, whisked away by the contentment in the air. 

With each tick of the clock passing by, your heart was reassured more and more that it was ready to move on, the thought of your shared painful past no longer plaguing your thoughts. All you could feel was happiness as junhoe so proudly held your hand in his, leading you through the day. Along with the cloud nine of elation, a bit of pride risen in your chest when soft whispers and small gasps of perhaps admiration, perhaps envy, when he had walked you through the busy restaurant. Yet at the same time, you couldn’t help but cowered further into his side, feeling the stares of other diners on your back as you sauntered by.

“What’s wrong?” Ever so observant, worries glossed over his eyes feeling you huddling so tightly into him.

“You’d think I’m used to being the attention of the room by now, given just how many meeting I’ve held… But…” A nervous chuckle rattled through your chest, glancing about at the still prying eyes, a few whispers praising his look reached your ears. “I know they mostly are staring at you, and I mean, I don’t blame them but…”

“But you’re uncomfortable…” No sooner than that little nod had met his gaze, Junhoe already called out to the hostess, requesting a private dining room. And though you protested, quoting it was far too much trouble for something so trivial, he only smiled into the small kiss pressed against your temple. 

“I’m sorry, forgive me.” He expressed his concern sweetly, hand squeezing yours tightly. 

“No, there’s nothing you should be sorry for. It was just kind of surprising, I guess. I suppose I’ll have to get used to it, especially when the gossip squad catch wind of us…” You could sense another apology was about to fall from his lips, the way his gaze faltered, lips pressed into a thin line. “I can get used to it, if it meant that you’d be next to me all the time.” The sentiment he had shared with you just moments ago once more floating contently in the air, drawing a blinding smile from Junhoe. 

“Wait, gossip squad? I have something like that in my company?” As contentment settled over the small room protecting the new souls embarking on the journey toward a budding relationship, his attention drawn to the topic you had just raised. Normally he wasn’t one to be privy to nor care enough to learn of the useless gossip buzzing in the floors below his. Yet if it pertains to the love of his life, it went without saying that he was all ears. 

“Yes, they’re mostly harmless… They just spend a lot of time…” Your little pause got Junhoe at the edge of his seat, awaiting the word being so carefully select within your mind. “Lot of time discussing other people’s business. Irene and I named them so after the 3rd time they tried to loop us in on some dating nonsense between a few workers.”

“Well, I’ve never been against my employee dating each other, so there’s not much to say about that, is there? I mean the rule book even said so, you can date, but if it interferes with company’s business then there’s consequences” How could this man be so innocent, you’ve got no clue. Yet as you sat back and watched him pondered the politic of dating gossip, a smile melted on your lips just hearing his pure thoughts and logic as to why there should be no gossip on dating under his roof. “I thought it was very straightforward, what else is there to gossip about?”

“I don’t think they’re much concern with HR issues… More just trying to be in everyone’s business.” You sighed, a small kiss placed atop his hand. 

“Should I do something about it? …Since I assume, they were the one that called you… You know… I honestly, when I stood there listening to them, I nearly die from the words they spoken.” The word he’d never use to describe you echoed in his heart along with the pain so anguished on your features. 

“You’re sweet. But I’m okay, I swear. They don’t bother me much, though I can’t speak for Irene or the people they’ve name dropped.” You winced recalling the many times Irene near tear her hair out just being within earshot of the squad. 

Even as amazing courses began to fill the table, delectable scent permeating through every crack and crevice of the small room, your conversation continued to blossom, laugher echoed vibrantly. Likes and dislikes shared, you learned more of Junhoe in the short hour spent over the feast befitted for royal than you had with many others over the years. All the preconception you had of the man completely out the window as the clock ticked on. The man you once thought as methodical was so effortlessly easygoing and sweet, he left you wondering if the boss you dealt with day in, day out at work was his twin, or even a robot substitute. The way he laughed so carefree, letting the sweet sound lulled your heart toward joy made you question each and every time you had seen a scowl on his lips, as if his harsh tone were nothing but hallucination. No man, none, you’ve encountered possessed a smile more brilliant than that of Koo Junhoe. He could brighten anyone day by just smiling their way and it made your heart tingled to know that he always smiles for you. The meal soon came to an end with more boxed away for to-go than eaten, Junhoe sheepishly admitted to having order far too much for just two people, not knowing exactly what you’d like. Needless to say, dessert too came in an array varying from decadent chocolate to sweet fruits. And though you knew even just half the bill would probably cost you your right arm and 3 kidneys, you insisted upon pay for it anyways. Your little protest to pay was muffled out with a big hug, he whispered softly that you could pay for coffee before tugging you into his chest. The meal had been paid for long before your nose had even detected that wonderful scent of seafood mingling with a faint, distant trace of steak and potatoes. 

As you both once more rumbling down the street in his car, stomach happy and heart full, Junhoe steered you off into destination unknown with a gentle grin on his lips, excited that you hadn’t even once voice any concern despite not knowing at all his plan. The endless buildings lining your drive soon turned into rows of trees, lining the paved road with a refreshing sight of green, dotting with tiny blooms of colors. 

“Just a small question…” As the groves of tree grew dense and air so refreshing it had begun purifying your lungs of all the nasty of the city, your curiosity grew. And though your mind was plagued with questions, your heart remained content and happy despite the fact that you were warily studying the surrounding. “Am I being kidnapped?” Your small question elicited a laugh from the man that had been happily holding your hand in silent till this point. 

“I was wondering when you’d finally be concern.” He mused gently with a tiny kiss on the back of your hand.

“No, no. Not concern, just curious.” You corrected, shrinking in embarrassment when he once more called you cute. 

“We’ve been staying in the city for most part… Well, my office to be exact. I thought a change of scenery would be good switch up for us.” 

As the last syllable fell from his lips, Junhoe pulled the car over, entering a parking lot with just as much greenery as the road leading here, though there were much more flowers lining the path. Your eyes widen at the sight beholding. Seemingly endless rows of all colors possible in nature draped themselves over the hillside as if mother nature had painted over the brown patches of Earth with her favorite hues. A smile plastered on your lips as you took in lungs full of fresh air, sweet scent of blossoms filled your olfactory with delights. Your eyes widen at the dainty petals swaying in the air, flowers and color combination you’ve never before seen in your life stood tall and proud under the honey rays of the sun, then stare back at Junhoe with all the excitement your heart could muster up. He only smiled in return, taking your hand once more in his, Junhoe pulled out two tickets from the safe confinement of his pocket. 

You were on the verge of being surprise for just a split second but of course, what else could you expect other than total preparedness from your dear date. By this point, honestly, it’d be more shocking if he hadn’t already paid for your dinner for the next three weeks. If your breath had been taken away before, your mind was now blown at the scenery unfolding itself as you both passed through the entrance. Seemingly never-ending tunnel of purple wisteria draping, tickling your nose with its wonderful scent. As you both sauntered down the path of purple ombre itself into white, you were greeted with the sight of a magnificent glasshouse bursting with vibrancy. Clouds of intense red and delicate yellow blending themselves with puff of dainty pink and refreshing green creating the most delightful hanging garden you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Just beyond the crystal clear wall of the glasshouse, you could make out swirls of white and baby pink, mingling in the soft breeze with more shades of pink peonies than you could ever hope to named. 

“How have I lived this long without knowing this place exist… I’m, I’m speechless! Thank you so much.” You exclaimed, ecstatic when Junhoe had nudged you on, letting you know there were so much more to see.

“I’m glad you like it. I was honestly so nervous about bringing you here.”

“I’m more than just like it, I love it, so so much. How often do I even get to see flowers in such monumental quantity? There’s so many here I don’t even know the name of!” Appreciation falling from your lips as you bent over, letting the soft petals and wonderful fragrant of a velvety smooth rose, red so deep it nearly appeared black, tickling your nose. 

“Any time you want.” Nothing bring Junhoe more joy than the sight of you enjoying yourself, smiling so brightly, knowing that he was the reason. 

“Hmm?” His answer so simple yet it left you wondering if behind that reply, a deeper meaning hidden. 

“Any time you want to see the flowers, I’ll be your driver.” 

Junhoe was so close, so close to placing a small kiss on the smile spreading on your lips but the reservation of just where he stands still plaguing his heart. Even though this very second, you were reaching for his hand as you tugged him along the colorful path toward the garden warmed by the golden sun. Another hour of wandering the seemingly infinite paths leading to different exhibitions, the next one better than the last, you both decided to rest your worn soles on the side of a small stream, basking in the soft sunlight.

As you awaited the return of your date, watching as tiny pink petals floating as if tiny fairies dancing in the crisp air, your heart began to drum erratically. The entire day had filled with the best food and the best sight, all the things to distract your mind from the implication of just what this date would mean for your relationship with Junhoe. But now, with nothing but the calming stream, painted pink by the many cherry blossom trees rooted along the bank, no time could be better for matters of the hearts. As junhoe settled down beside you, a picnic basket in hand and the brightest smile on his lips, you were ready to continue on this journey, hand in hand, hearts melting into one. 

“What’d you bring?” Sliding over to give him space, your eyes filled with delight as Junhoe began pulling out treats from the woven basket. 

“Just a few sweet, and tea.” Comfortable right beside you, Junhoe handed over a plate of cake.

“You haven’t had enough sweet yet?” You teased, feeding him a big piece of strawberry before taking a bite yourself. 

As the comforting silent of hearts beating as one settling over your small outing once more, your mind continued to buzz with the curiosity of the man you were so close to call yours. You let your eyes traced over each of his sharp features, really admiring the way he glowed so ethereally under the golden rays as he let himself immersed in nature. You wondered of the pain he went through in the past, the pain that had led him to be so cruel to your heart the second doubt had sowed its seed in his heart. You wondered too, one day, would you be able to help him heal. 

“Junhoe…” You called softly, to which he let a soft hum fallen from his lips in reply. “I- I don’t know if this is crossing the line, and I’m sorry if it is but…”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Concern sprinkling itself across his features, hand inching closer to yours as he let himself lost in the sight of you, finger gently tracing the line of your face.

“You’ve said before that you got burn by women in your past… And I don’t mean to pry but…” 

“You want to know what happened… I get it. After what I did to you, it’d only be natural for you to be curious.” A soft smile bloomed as Junhoe gently cup your cheek in his hand, reveled in the way you leaned into his touch, placing a small kiss on his palm. 

“You don’t have to if it’s uncomfortable, I just… Yes, I’m curious but sometimes I wonder if, if I’ll ever be enough to help you move on from something that left you so scarred.” You got his hand in yours, grabbing on so tightly as if transferring all the love your soul could give, hoping it’d be enough to sooth his heart. You knew the scars of the past won’t ever fade away, but if you could even just for small parts, help him forget about it…

“Y/n don’t even think like that. Just you being here with me, giving me your precious time, it already means so much. What happened in the past, I won’t say that it doesn’t affect me anymore. Evidently, it already came between us once before and nothing I can do could make up for it. But just having you close to me, seeing you so happy, knowing you’re smiling because of me… I’d trade my whole life to have that.” As the sweet words continued to fall from his lips, Junhoe tugged you in between his legs, wrapping his arms around you so tightly, tears began brimming your lashes from just how loved you felt. 

“I used to dream about the day when someone could make me feel so loved, nothing else in the world matter… And thank you for giving me just that.” Junhoe whispered against the kiss he placed upon your cheek, as you basked in the way his fingers gently digging into your hair, loosening all the emotional knots that were holding you back from fully letting go. 

“About my past…” Junhoe was first to break the solace fallen over your restful form, still holding onto him so tightly.

“You don’t have to…” You sighed, tracing your index over the tall bridge of his nose, down to those lips you’ve been craving for a taste since that fateful night. “I’m sorry I brought it up…”

“I need to.” He replied simply. You nodded, understood fully the turmoil in his heart as you settled back down beside him. 

His words took you back to the time of young love, fresh face and barely out of high school, knew nothing yet of the pain of heartbreak. Junhoe was much less wary of the dangerous world, naively believing still in the good of other. It was the spring of his freshman year when a young Junhoe had caught the eyes of a senior. She was beyond beautiful and was loved, chased after by guys and girls alike. He hadn’t thought much when the she had introduced herself, though he did think it was strange for the princess of the dance department to be so interested in a business nerd like himself. But he was just a boy with a golden heart, questioning naught her intention nor the bedroom eyes she had given him. With each tick of the clock, he was lost, his heart was no longer beating for himself and his soul longed for each second it gets to spend near her. His days consumed by the lingering scent of her perfume, pressed deep into his skin from where she had touched, lost in the tingling sensation left by the kiss she had given him as a morning greeting. Nights were filled with endless texts and sometimes even content silent over the phone. Dates after dates, weekend trips soon followed. Even after she had stolen his heart, entrapped his soul, and eventually taken away too, his innocent… Never once did she made it clear what they were. But he was happy with just that, blissfully ignorant of just how much pain he was about to be in, showering her with loves and gifts, all the things a young boy in love could do to appease his heart’s desire. 

It all came raining down when he had arrived at the step of her dorm room the night of her birthday, endless gifts in tow, let in by her roommate who had always given him such pity expression and he never understood why. As he inched closer to the door he hoped held his love, the elation that had been bubbling in his chest exploded in anger and pain as her bedroom door creaked open. Junhoe was overwhelmed in emotion, every sense, sight, sound, scent, everything was overwhelmed by the he betrayal of someone he loved. She was wearing the expensive set he had bought her, letting another man loved her the way only he should be able to. Shocked, he had screamed out her name, watched as the stranger tumbled his way through the door, hastily pulling over the clothes that had been strewn messily across the floor. The man was out of there before his anger could settled into his fists, and in many ways, perhaps it was good that he did for Junhoe wasn’t sure what he’d do in that moment of blinding anger. He didn’t scream, didn’t say much for that matter, just stared. He stared at her, every inch of the milky skin he had spent hours loving, stained with the scent of another man. She begged at first, then she cried as if it was somehow his fault, that he had pushed her to do this. Finally, when he could take no longer the nonsense spilling from her lips, Junhoe tossed carelessly onto the floor the bouquet of flowers he had spent so much time and thought to pick out all her favorites. She tugged at his jacket, on her knees, begging for him not to leave, professing her love… Something he would’ve done had the night worked out. But he couldn’t take the betrayal, its poison already coloring his heart black as he tossed her way too, the many gifts he had prepared. She showed up at his dorm, his work, lingering on the path he’d take to school, but never again did he look her way. 

And though the pain of being cheated on hurt, it never did deter him from the quest to find love. Why should he keep himself from finding true love just because someone thought he wasn’t enough. Yet as birthdays passed and his free time grew short having taken on the mantel for his dad, it weighted down on Junhoe that love wasn’t so easily found and soon, his heart grew cold. He dated, just for the hope of his parents to someday have a grandchild. Some would last a few months, others, mere weeks before he was moving on. And when he had fell in love again, it was a love that was doomed to fail from the start…this time, he was entirely at fault.

He had met her at the old college he had attended, the same one that had given him so much but at the same time, took nearly all his heart. She was the new business professor, begged him incessantly to give a speech to her students, to motivate them because even if Junhoe had come from old money, he still had the mindset anyone would kill for to possess. It was just supposed to be a half hour of speech and a half hour of answering the burning questions of young minds. Yet he found himself lingering, even well into the 2nd hour after the last of the student had shuffled back into the world. There was no doubt that she’d have made a fine partner but that wasn’t what she was looking for. As independent as a person could possibly get, she didn’t need a man to live and she made that very clear from the beginning. He didn’t think that matter then, and definitely didn’t matter as he pounded her into submission atop the surface of the small desk occupying her office. She wasn’t looking for a relationship and neither did he. All they needed was someone they could use to fuck away the pent-up frustration of work… Or just to fuck, no reason really needed.  Yet as the stains of their sinful encounters grew from just their apartments to late nights at her office… His office, early mornings too at the lecture hall, and even countless times in their cars, something stirred in his heart. She was attractive, body that left him aching in the hours they were apart. But the way she spoke, the way she carried herself, it left him dumbly admiring just how mature she was compared to his first love, compared to the women he dated. No one that came before could understand him the way she did, and being a business professor, she understood too his work and passion. So before he could continue down the path that was slowly devolving into something much more complicated, he ended things. No lingering goodbye, not even one last night to end things with a bang, he just left. He knew the feeling he harbored wasn’t something she asked for, something that was solely his fault… something he dealt with entirely on his own and in the end, it made him callous to following his heart, drove him from dreaming of having that someone he could love with his entire heart and soul. 

“Then I met you…” A sigh of relief huffed from his lips, the weight of the world off his shoulders now that he could come clean, bear his all for you to see. 

“I’m really sorry” 

“Don’t be! I was instantly drawn to you the very beginning despite being wary still of just how big of a mess my heart could get me into. I did try. I really did, sweetheart, to stay away from you but, how could I? You’re literally everything I’ve ever wanted and more.” He adored the way every little thing could get you to smile, and how even after seemingly receiving the scolding of your life for something that wasn’t even your fault, your spirit wasn’t at all broken. Even when he had apologized for the wrongful scolding, a smile was still on your lips, simply stating that teamwork meant looking out for each other and you were just as much at fault. 

“You’re too sweet. I’m not that great.” A bashful giggle left your lips, not used to receiving endless compliment from him, and quite honestly, you didn’t think you’ll ever. 

“But you are! And I can’t say thank you enough for giving me the time of day.” Before the last syllable could leave his lips, you already sprawled yourself across the way, with all the intension of pulling the surprised man into a hug. Yet as clumsy as you were, things rarely worked out and this very second, you were atop his body, having just tackled him onto the ground thankfully lined with plushiness of soft, green grass. Your cheeks glowed bright with embarrassment as Junhoe heaved a hearty laugh, loving the weight of your body resting on his own. As laughter melted into the sweet scent of flowers and fresh air, satisfaction of being with one another settled once more, leaving you breathless, gasping for air from the way Junhoe was so lovingly gazing into your soul. Brushing a few strands of hair away from his eyes, you let your thumb lingered on the hollow of his cheek, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips when he chased it with a kiss. 

“Junhoe…” Your little uttered of his name got his attention fully on you, swallowing hard at the way your gaze dancing between his eyes and his lips. You got your lower lips tugged between your teeth, hesitation playing at the tip of your tongue but when he let his hands constricted around your waist, every bit of reservation was dislodged. “Junhoe…” You whispered once more, feeling your heart practically jumping out of your chest and soul soaring so high amongst the cloud. The butterflies that had been gently tickling your stomach were now fluttering a storm, leaving you breathless. You knew what you were about to say, and you knew too that he felt the same. Yet there was no helping the nervousness pumping through your veins, tearing your heart apart. So instead of letting those words you had been wanting to say for so long fall from your lips, you let your eyes fluttered close and with all the determination of your heart, pressed a small kiss onto his lips. It was so fleeting, small and delicate but it conveyed perfectly your feeling as Junhoe let his hand carding into your hair, shielding your head before flipping you onto your back. It was his turn to let out his feeling, letting his lips met yours once more but this time the kiss lingered into so much more. He guided you, happy as you molded your lips against his, chasing when he parted way just for a second. An entire park filled with the prettiest flowers at the height of spring and they couldn’t compare to you. He let small kisses falling onto your lips as he admired the gentle curves of your features, how soft you felt under his hold. He kissed you until his lungs were spent and even then, parting only for a fraction of a second before feeling your needy grasp luring him back in. Junhoe tested the water, letting a fleeting swipe of his tongue ran across your lower lips, enjoyed the way you immediately bent to his will, parting your lips to let him in. You were more than willing to greet him, letting him taste all you have to offer, heavy pants mingling in the air. 

“Junhoe…” You whispered once more, feeling the force of another kiss pressed into your soul.

“Yea, baby?” The term of endearment he had been craving to say tumbled out, sending jolts of electricity to your heart. 

“I love you.” Junhoe didn’t think his heart could be any fuller, skipping anymore beats as it just did the last few minutes, but he was so wrong. As the declaration of your love echoed into the air, vibrating through his chest so clearly, Junhoe was suddenly lost, lost for words, lost all the air in his lungs, and lost the control of his heart. Once more kisses raining down upon your skin, fluttering against each and every single of your features as the happy man celebrated the ending of his long journey. 

“I love you, too, so much.” He whispered over and over again, letting it mingle with words of shock, in disbelief still that you had just said those words. “Does it mean I’m officially out of the dog house now?”

“Ah… Yes, that definitely mean you’re officially out of the dog house.” Rising off the ground just enough to press a small kiss to his cheek, you let the soft giggle of the man that was now officially yours caressing solace back to your heart.

“Well, if that’s the case… Miss Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?” The question he had been waiting to ask, the one that left his soul glowing with delight, the one he had been safely storing inside his heart since that fateful night finally melting into a kiss, finally got to see the light of day. You nodded, furiously and fervidly, feeling tears running down your cheeks once more but this time it was nothing short of heavenly joy. “I’m never letting you go, ever again. You know that right, baby?” Gently wiping away the tears still hot against your cheeks, Junhoe let the words that set your heart ablaze fallen from his lips. There was nothing else you could do but nod because all your vocabulary, all the words you had learned in the short years being alive, it all vacated the second he had let those sweet words out from his heart. 

As the soft breeze of spring grew brisk and the golden hours had begun to sprinkle its brilliant sparkles over the entire garden, Junhoe proposed it was about time to pack up and leave. As the familiar path leading back toward the real world, you bid goodbye to each of your favorite flowers, wondering just when you’ll be able to visit again.

“I used to visit here so often…” His words got you perked up with excitement, yet that excitement soon faded as he continued. “But now, I don’t think I’ll be coming by much anymore.”

“But, why?” Your little whine nearly left his heart paralyzed. He knew you were hanging on to each word like a lifeline, teasing you on purpose but he definitely was not prepared for the reaction you had just given. 

“Because, why would I need to pay to see flowers, when I’ve got the prettiest one right beside me.” His statement left you frozen in confusion, doe eyes staring back as your heart doing its best to process the words. When the realization of what he had meant finally sunk into your heart, a tiny gasp left your lips along with a bashful grin. “Too cheesy?” 

“No… just, perfect…” Words stuttering from your lips, not at all hiding the fact that you were blushing intensely at the sly compliment. 

“I’m going have heart palpitation if you keep up being this cute.” 

And he was serious, Junhoe wasn’t sure how much more he could take of the soft rose coloring your cheeks seemingly every single time he had looked your way. Never before had he experienced this kind of love, the kind that left him cheesing like a kid and seemingly closer to death every single second passed because he could cope no longer with how adorable every single damn thing you do were. Sure, his very first love had been a good one, no matter how horrid the ending had been. But this, this was a whole new territory that Junhoe had just trekked into and he loved every single second of it, loved that it was you who were holding his hand through it all. Even with all the pain, all the misunderstanding, and tears, being with you was as effortless as breathing. And as he lowered the volume of the radio down, a smile broke over his lips watching your peaceful self drifting off into dreamland in the passenger side of his car. He wasn’t sure why or how, but Junhoe knew, as sure as the sun golden rays illuminating the day and the moon’s silvery wisp calming the night, he knew this would be the one to last.

As the cloud blended themselves into gorgeous swirls of gold and pink, the endless rows of trees and beautiful dainty petals ceased to exist as if the garden was nothing more than a beautiful daydream. Once more the bustling sidewalk and concrete jungle lined the road leading back home, once more sadness embraced his heart, unable to part way from such a wonderful day. Though he knew you were now his, and all the tangled of the hearts had resolved itself into a magnificent story ending, he’ll never get used to saying goodbye. As the familiar view of your front gate once more materializing, Junhoe heaved a heavy sigh before gently lulling you back to reality. 

 “Did you have fun today, love?” Lingering, Junhoe was buying all the time he could, all the seconds you could offer while nuzzling so deep within his chest. 

“So much fun! Thank you!” Little did he know, you too were buying time, stalling as you brainstormed the perfect reason to ask him in. “You have to let me repay you somehow. That was honestly the best date I’ve ever been on in a long while. Thank you so much.”

“Baby…” He sighed, unable to process still the luck the universe had bestowed on his undeserving self. “There’s no need to pay me back. I’m lucky enough already that you gave me the time to have the first date I’ve planned for us since the first time we kissed.”

“Oh… So, does that mean you’ll say no to staying over for dinner?” The little pout you had very purposefully tugged onto your lips knowing full well he couldn’t refuse the offer left Junhoe spinning. The way your sentence came out nearly a whine, the way your gaze fallen onto the floor, you could’ve ask him for his life this very second and he’d say yes. 

“Well, that… I didn’t think you were offering that when you say… I, of course I want to stay and have dinner with you.” A sheepish grin on his lips, Junhoe stammered an answer you already knew he would. A loud cheer erupted as you tugged his hand into yours, dragging him along. Junhoe felt himself soaring amongst the golden cloud of sunset, feeling the scars in his heart slowly vanishing as he stepped through the gate he had for so long wondering if he’ll ever get the chance to break through. 

As solace gently blanketing over the darken living room, illuminated by only the flashing lights of the TV, a sense of contentment warming in your chest as you leaned further into Junhoe, nosing at the lingering scent of cologne mixing in with your own perfume, leftover from an entire day of fun. The scent of dinner still lingering about your apartment though the food had long since stuffed away in the safe confinement of your stomach and his. Junhoe had sprawled out, making himself as home and nearly covering the entire length of your small couch as he relaxed into its soft cushion. No doubt if Irene were to arrive home this very second, she’d faint from the sight of the big boss resting on the couch, casual and completely relaxed.  Perfectly happy and comfortable, he pulled you into his lap, letting you lay gently atop his body with your face resting on his tone chest. One hand on the small of your back, he let the other carding gentle delight through your hair. Every now and then, when the movie had halted to a slow, a small kiss would bloom on the crown of your head, hush whispered of love tickled your ears. It felt strangely domestic, as if this had always been your nightly routine, as if you had been married for years. 

Slowly, even the tune of his favorite movie could no longer kept his attention as Junhoe let it turn to you. The way you were clinging onto him so tightly, sighing contently now and then as you pressed a small kiss onto his chest. No longer did Junhoe feared the future but rather curious, anticipating the funs to come and the adventures. Yet there was still a small part that that still left the flight of wasps in his stomach thrashing their wings violently. So rather than turning a blind eye just as he had so many times in the past, Junhoe decided it was best to lay everything out in the open, God knows this relationship had always thrived on honesty. He let his index tapping gently at the volume button, reeling you back from the fantasy of you and him in the morning after that had wrapped your mind in for the good part of the movie. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, propping yourself up just enough to peer over at those handsome features, a small kiss to assure your soul that Junhoe was still very much here in the present. 

“Nothing, I just, there’s something on my mind that’s kind of bothering me.” He sighed, gently nudging for you to sit up before he too reluctantly peeling himself away from comfort and happiness. 

“Junhoe, you’re scaring me.” A frown already heavy on your lips as you crawled into his arms, settling in between his legs. Much to your surprise, your dear man simply heaved a soft chuckle, locking you in his arms before letting kisses rained down your cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He apologized with a big kiss to your lips, loving the way you only snuggled in closer. “It’s just, there’s still the issue of your resignation and how we’re going to tell everyone about us.”

“Oh… That.” You sighed, admittedly already forgotten about the technicality of it all, and honestly how could you not when Junhoe had given you the best first date of your life. “Well, I won’t be super thrill about it but…” Your words got him hook, intently listening to every breath and every idea. “If you’re worry about what they’ll say, I can always transfer to the smaller branch!” You did your best to be cheerful about it, to ease the weight off of his shoulders. But the thought of not being able to have lunch with him every day, that wasn’t a thought you were particularly happy about. “…And you don’t think it’s a good idea.” A drawn-out sigh accompanied with the biggest frown on his lips told you he wasn’t a fan either.

“Not being able to see you every day, plus sending you right back to Johnny…” He scoffed, mildly discontent that you’d be eating lunch every day with his rival instead.

“Oh, come on. Poor Johnny didn’t do anything wrong!” You laughed with a soft pat to his chest, though that only earned a protective hold around your entire body. 

“He kissed you! How is that nothing wrong?!” Borderline between a bear hug and bone crushing, Junhoe let playful giggle and endless claims to your heart falling. 

“On my forehead! And well, technically I was single then and he didn’t know we promised each other a date.” Refusing to part way with the niche in the crook of your neck, Junhoe only nuzzled in further at the prodding of your fingers into his side, eliciting harsh gasps and heavy laughter. “Baby!” 

“Okay, fine. I surrender!” Had it not for the backrest of the couch supporting his weight, junhoe would’ve already tumbled onto the ground, exhausted from laughter. “I know he didn’t do anything wrong, don’t worry. I just, I’m so used to seeing you every day, even if it’s just meeting and boring business jargons… something is better than nothing.” Reaching out, Junhoe let his hand cupping your cheek, a teasing smirk blossomed on his lips when you chased his retreating palm with your kisses. “I don’t care who say what about me, I’m worry about you. The last thing I need is for the gossip squad or whatever they’re call” Waving a dismissive hand, the thought of cracking down on company gossip once more plaguing his thoughts. “ I don’t want them discrediting everything you’ve worked so hard for as sleeping with the boss.” His eyes rolled so far back, Junhoe nearly got a glimpse of his brain scoffing at that phrase. He hated it, ‘sleeping with the boss’. It was a phrase that haunted his last name, a legacy that forever stained the honesty in his father and in him. He had lost count of the times his mom would sigh in discontent that yet another secretary, another supervisor was fired because in their eyes money was worth so much more than the happiness of a family, than their own moralities. He too had lost count of the times he’d glanced up at a meeting to see a seductive smirk, the tone they’d use on him, or how they’d undo the top button of their shirt, hiking their skirt up just a bit further before stepping into his office. Little did they all knew, he was watching, disgust at another attempt of furthering their career with the least amount of work. Junhoe wasn’t a hard to please boss, anyone in the company with a good work ethic would know that for raises weren’t a rare occurrent, even if a raise in rank was rarely given out. Yet there was no stopping the few that’d much rather take the short cut, shitting on the effort of thousands other. That wretched conversation he had overheard, sure it tickled his heart with aches that he was really so low in their eyes. But it pulverized his heart and crushed his soul to think of the implication that had on you. 

“To be quite frank with you, that night I was prepared for the worst the second I decided to follow you into that elevator. Yet when you had asked me for a date, the implication of what that meant for my future, as silly as it sounds, I thought about it. That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were and how amazing our date would be. But at the same time, that nagging in the back of my mind, to throw away everything I’ve done for a date, what they’d say... Even after everything that happened between us, all the pain, all the confusion, everything led me to one conclusion.” 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Junhoe let the warmth of his hand gently caressed comfort back into your soul, taking in all the happened, all that you went through. 

“No matter what I do, where I am, if they want to talk, they’ll talk. There’s nothing we can do about it and you know what, I don’t care!” Hands thrown up in the air, you shrugged away all the worries. 

“You don’t?” Your nonchalant attitude was giving his heart a boost of happiness, though that didn’t stop a surprise gasp from escaping his lips. 

“Yea! No fuck given!” Your excited grunt of victory got Junhoe grinning as if he had just won the lottery. “But I still might come to you and cry though if they get really mean… Is that okay?”

“I- Why are you so cute? Yes, of course that’s okay! You’re not allow to cry when I’m not there okay? That way I can give you hugs.” Your little request got his heart doing flips, bouncing off the wall of with joy. Suddenly all the pain of the past, all those lonely nights lying awake wondering if you were with someone else, if you were even thinking of him at all, that all vanished without a trace. It was as if this had always been his life. Weekdays filled with the adorable smiles you flashed him on passing by and the late hours sharing your thoughts over a dinner. Weekend would be times for amazing dates and time spent just enjoying being in each other’s arms. Everything felt so natural that Junhoe could hardly believe this was only the first real date you had gone on together. “Is it safe to assume I can now shred your resignation letter?” 

“Yes, assume so!”

The last knot in Junhoe’s heart finally untangled, leaving it free to float into the cloud nine of new love, true love. Though there was still the issue of appeasing the angry mother bear Irene, Junhoe was sure in time, she’ll come to understand the love he had for you. After so much heartache of the puppy love that was tainted by betrayal and a true love that never was, all Junhoe prayed for was to have someone to love and protect him the same way he’d dedicate his life to them. And even if he didn’t write true love off as something of a myth, a Hollywood creation to sell movie and the commercialism of Valentine’s day, he had submitted to the belief that it will never happen for him. Yet here you were, right in front of him with your arms snaking protectively around his body, the bliss of the first date that had yet to end still surrounding you both. You were so close, so, so close that he could still made out the way your lips had tasted so wonderfully minty-cherry and the way your heart beating so steadily against his chest. Junhoe got his hand tangled in your hair, fingers pressuring soft, satisfying groans from your lips. 

“Baby…” A hushed call for your attention left his lips but you couldn’t part way, letting your nose nudging into the soft skin of his neck still. “Y/n…” He called once more, this time earned a soft hum from your lips. 

The little grumble leaving your lips as you forced yourself away from the warmth he shared drawn out a chuckle from him. Yet as soon as your eyes met his, a smile instantly blossomed on your lips from the loving gaze he already had on you. The solace of a quiet night taking over your humble abode once more leaving the soft breaths echoing through the space as you both admired one another. Those days when the only smile shared was timid ones, full of uncertainties and reservation were long gone as you let yourself unashamedly studying, let your eyes caressed each handsome feature. He too, studying the way your eyes crinkled well before a smile could bloom on your lips. He adored how every time you’d get so lost in your own world, the softest, prettiest smile would spread on your lips and you wouldn’t even be aware of it. 

“I love you so much.” Junhoe sighed against your lips, reveling in the way your lips so soft, melting into his at the slightest pressure. 

“I love you.”

You replied simply, letting your arms hooking around his neck, pulling him closer. The happy ending neither of you had thought possible was finally happening and your hearts overwhelmed with joy. Now that the weight of hurtful words and restriction of boundaries had ceased to exist, your souls could finally enjoy the refreshing air of a new beginning without a single care in the world. It felt so much like those summer days spent by the beach, feeling the gentle coastal breeze toying with your hair. The sun shining so brightly, crisp and warm, instilling the most heavenly of delight in your heart as the refreshing waves of cool ocean water lapping at your feet. 

Yet the second Junhoe let his lips pressed against yours, all you could see was the vibrancy of autumn’s best leaves, fiery red and vivid yellow burning your souls with all his passion. It started out so gentle, soft lingering pecks, mulling over the taste, the plushness of each other’s lips as if soft breeze dancing amongst the colorful trees. 

With each tick of the clock, the innocent of new love soon devolving down the familiar road of roughness as lust returned, leaving you breathless as he bit down on your lower lips, tugging it in between his teeth. His touch grew firm, no longer was it the gentleness of shy autumn wind but the harshness of winter’s dark storm. His fingertips digging into your flesh, grabbing all he could but that did nothing to satisfy his craving of you. And though pants had grown heavy, frustration harden further with every touch, it was nothing of the abuse he had left the first night you had embarked on this insane adventure of the hearts. There was something more, rooted far deeper than either of could’ve imagine for each fleeting touch, each groan of each other’s names affected your bodies and souls in ways unfathomable. As his kisses grew sloppy, trailing down the lines of your jaw down to your collar bones, all thoughts vanished at the way he made you feel. It wasn’t just surface pleasure, neither did it stop at the volcano threatening to erupt in your core. You could feel the gratification within your soul, your mind transcending into a reality where nothing in the world could stop you from loving Koo Junhoe. Relenting all power over your senses, you let your hands ran free, touching, exploring every inch of skin he had exposed. When that proved to be a single drop of water in the desert of your thirst for him, you let your hands carding through his hair, pressuring pleasure into his scalp before abandoning that all together to shove them under his shirt. Sigh of relief left your lips as you clawed gently at the soft skin of his back, so warm under your fingertips. A soft chuckle vibrated through to your lips as his kiss slowed to barely a slow waltz, eyes blown, staring deep into your soul. Junhoe studied the way your eyes dazed, breaths erratic yet you couldn’t part way with him, chasing after the taste of his lips when he back away to give you air. 

“Baby, slow down. We have all night…” He whispered, hot breath fanning your cheek as he nibbled on your ear, electrifying every hair on your body to stand on its end. 

“I- fuck…” A sharp bite at the tender skin just below your ear left you aching, soft cusses falling from your lips from the newfound pleasure. “You’re wrong, you know.” A stammer of confusion left his lips, almost immediately he got his hands cupping your cheeks, searching for any sign of all that regret had settled in your heart. All he could find however, was your lustful gaze and a loving smile. “You have all my life, Koo Junhoe…” You sighed a reminder onto his lips, feeling a smile blossomed against your kiss. 

The emotional Heimlich you had just given him was far too great for Junhoe to handle, feeling his heart unravelling at each breath you heaved, each time your nails gently dragging down the length of his back. It was almost absentminded the way you grinded into him, letting yourself made up for the lost time, the lonely nights. Watching the way your senses unfurling into nothingness solidified that feeling of belonging in his heart. He belonged with you, here and always, and there was no reason why he should hold himself back from enjoying this fully. A sharp gasp stolen from your lips the second he let himself fully diving into you, hands grabbing harshly at the curve of your ass, massaging, gripping firmly as he pulled you right into him. 

“B-Baby, bedroom…” At the soft nudging of tip of his nose against your neck, you point down the hallway.  With one swift move, your strong man hoisted you up, fingers only digging deeper into the tender skin of your thighs, but you only let out a satisfied moan. Lips latching onto his neck, you nudge at the soft skin for permission, letting your tongue trailing down the vein so prominent along the honey tan skin. 

“Go for it.” He sighed softly against your hair, chasing the soft scent of your perfume, nostalgia rising in his heart. 

The very first time that softness of rose, mingling so perfectly with the vibrant spark of lemon had tickled his nose with its delight, you were nothing more than a name on a report. It must’ve been your very first solo meeting with the big boss for he could still see the nervousness in your smile, the way you were clawing your nailbeds raw. Admittedly, the first thought had crossed his mind was how adorable you were, the little soft giggle, a seemingly natural response for your nervousness, had Junhoe at the edge of his seat. Though he’d never fess up, he had a bit of fun with you that day, purposefully clearing his throat, sighing a bit more, even once or twice glancing up suddenly at your focused self only to watch you hopped off your seat a little bit each time. He could’ve sworn once, he even heard the tiniest yelp leaving your lips before that soft giggle echoed through the dead air of his office, brightening it up just a bit more with each second ticking pass. His killshot, perhaps tad bit overboard considering it had been your first time facing the big bad boss all on your own, he had waved you over, had you clarified a few parts of the report so snugly in his hands. You were so close, so, so close that he could hear the way your breathes slowed, heart stabilizing as you exhaled a sigh of relief when he had muttered a quiet “good job”. As he watched you disappearing through his door, another timid wave sent his way (Junhoe thought it was beyond cute that as nervous as you were, you’ve managed to muster up enough courage to wave at him), all he could think of was your buttery smooth scent still lingering, chasing his heart into a strange trance. 

Junhoe hissed a soft cuss when you let your teeth sink into his skin, gentle tongue lapping at the spot sweetly to sooth the pain. He hadn’t bothered fussing with the light as you both blindly crashed through the threshold of your room, far too enthralled in the possibility, the chance to finally love you properly.  Never mind the door slamming loudly or that darkness still very much surrounding you both, Junhoe let your body gently laid into the cushion of your bed before letting his weight securely, safely, and comfortingly resting atop yours. The distant pestering of the neon signs luring the busy world, bustling and loud just beyond your naked window noted for Junhoe to find you and Irene a better apartment but fuck, how your skin glowed so amazingly under the flashing colors this very second. Soft features and silky hair illuminated brilliantly by the vibrant pink and vivid blue, stark against the darkness of your surrounding as if you had just jumped out of the pages of those niche manga he loved to read so often in his youth. Though you weren’t crass nor bratty like the 2-D bad girl type goddesses he grew up wanting, craving all those lonely nights spent wasting away with his nose deep inside a book, you had the same air, an aura that would’ve made you one hell of a badass… You’re sweet, and innocent, yet there was not a single doubt in the world that you’d spit hell fire if needed to and nothing turned his heart on more. You were everything he ever wanted, and so much more… And he finally had you, heart, soul, and body too. His very own sinful angel. 

He watched you, your curious eyes diving deep into his soul as you both share a moment of content silent, letting yourselves a second to really soaked in the happy ending that was long time coming. Even if the state of his disheveled locks and your wrinkled dress bunching up messily nearly to your waist, there was nothing sinful about the content smiles blooming on your lips. You made it, you both made it and the happiness rising in your chests was nothing short of heaven. Soft breaths mingling, warmth etching its way deep into your skin with each passing of his thumb over your cheek. Junhoe studied your expression as he had so many times before yet this time it was unfathomable the familiarity of each curve, each bend. It was a familiarity that even if you took it all away, he’d still recognized you just as you are, and it wouldn’t take away either his feeling when he sees your face. But it was a familiarity that was so special, his heart was currently leaping out of his chest, snuggling gently against your own because it was the familiarity that came along with the permission to call you his girlfriend. he want to showered you in endless love, to whisper it into your ears all time of the day but as he shifted to place a soft kiss at the tip of your nose,  a soft moan tore from your lips and Junhoe was once more reminded the reason why his hand was still gripping tightly on your hip, and the soft ember burning on his collar bone. 

“Junhoe…” You groaned his name and he lost all his self-control, letting kisses peppering against the line of your jaws.  

“Yea, baby?” He whispered, nibbling at the softness of your ear. 

“Y-Your jeans…” It was only now he had realized just how flushed his left knee was against your throbbing core, rough material creating the most perfect friction for your neediness. 

“Is it too much for you, sweetheart?” He feigned a pout, delighted at the way you mewled softly in agreement. A strange comfort settling in his heart for the last time you were pinned underneath his body, pain and harshness was all you knew. Even though he had barely nudged his knee a millimeter, your body jerked upward, nails sinking down on the curves of his shoulders. 

“I, it’s so sudden…” Your sigh lost when he tilted his head to place a small kiss on your collar bone, giving you all the right angles to admire the small bruise you had nibbled onto his skin. 

“I’m sorry, baby… I’ll be more careful.” His action quite the opposite of his words as once more the rough jeans rubbed up against the nearly bare nothing of your underwear, sending a wave of pleasure rippling through your veins. When he had pulled away, your pupils were blown and a heavy pants steeling in your chest. A dazed smile tugged onto your lips as your finger gently caressing the small splotches of red and purple etched on his sweaty skin. Confusion playing hide and seek behind that lustful gaze, before he leaned back, watching himself on the reflective surface of your window. The moment your amazing artwork had met his eyes, his heart exploded with endearing lust, something he hadn’t thought was possible before you… Then again, he thought lots of things were unfathomably impossible before you had graced his life with all your wonders. 

“Already marking your territory, hmm?” He dove back in, lips latching once more on the soft span of your neck, fingers toying gently with the band of your lace underwear. 

“Just a tiny reminder, so you know I’m always here.” 

Junhoe wasn’t sure why but the feeling of soft lace under his fingertips, the way your arms were snaking around his body reminded him of the little emerald green piece of fabric still very much residing on his bed side table. 

“You might think this strange, but I’ve got your underwear still, beside my bed. It comforts me, knowing that no matter what happened in the future, I got one night with you. And if pain was all that I had brought upon myself, then I will relish that one night for the rest of my life.” He went on when nothing but that soft giggle he loved so dearly melted into the air. 

“Well you can take all my undies if that mean that I can reassure you any time of day that I’m going to be haunting you for the rest of your life. But that might mean I’m going commando all the time.” You jest with a gentle touch to his nose, and suddenly Junhoe forgotten once more just the sinful thoughts he had in his mind mere seconds ago. 

“Goodness me! I don’t know how much pleasure that would bring me, love, knowing you’re wandering about your days completely naked underneath, surrounding by perverted men.” Junhoe soared through cloud nine when your response was simply to pull him down onto your chest, open mouth kiss easing his mind back to where you needed him most this very second. Desperate calls of his name echoed through the silent space, dark and comforting, yet with each second ticking, each needy swing of your hips pushing yourself further into the rough material taut over his thigh, staining it with your slick core. The blackness of your room was slowly driving him insane. He needed to see you, to see the lust clouding your eyes, and the breaths huffing roughly from your lips. Blindly reaching for the lamp beside your bed, he tugged at the switch with a rough grunt of frustration that unraveled the last bit of your patient. Hands harshly pulling at the hem of his shirt, Junhoe let out a groan of relief when you clawed down the length of his back, teeth grazing against the sharpness of his jaw. Each moan, each touch like another veil over his mind, foggy with how much he wanted to tear you apart, to take you for all you’ve got. There had been a strange sense of urgency the last time he had you under his fingertips, the last time he had you at his beck and call. He knew he was on a timer, and even with the promise of a future date guarding over the lustful night, there was no certainty he’d again have this opportunity. So, he took all you could, while you were so lost in the fluidity of his hips, Junhoe begged for you to hold out, demanded for the night to last much further than it should’ve. 

Yet now, feeling your desperate kisses, the way your body molding so perfectly against his, knowing he had all the time in the world, well there was no better pleasure existed this very second. He had all the privacy he needed to love you in every way he could. The blaring street life permeating through your closed windows meant that there was no need for him to stiffen your moans. Though, the sight of you writhing beneath him, silent gasps choking from the hand he had snug over your throat as he lost himself in you, that was also something beyond all of his imagination. In that moment, time, and space, Junhoe just wanted to give you all that you deserved, all that he wanted to but couldn’t, far too lost in the façade of the big boss to give you. In many ways too, he needed this, needed to know that he could truly make love to you without any inhibition, without anything holding him back, to finally make this dream of his true. 

 It was only now that he grown angry at the dress still covering your beautiful body away from his eyes, impatiently tugging at your straps until they snapped under the power of his love elicited a small yelp surprised from your lips. The neckline of your dress tugged down to your elbow and the hem pushed far past your hips. Junhoe took a second, backing away to admire the beautiful mess he had just created. Your lips now bruised and redden from the endless bites he had sunk into their pilowy-softness. The dress you had chosen so carefully for your very first date now nothing but a beautiful memory, tattered and wrinkled. Lips parting as he took in the sight of the delicate lace of your underwear soaked, sticking to your core and barely serving its function any longer for the roughness of his fingers had been toying at it. Even as vulnerable as your position was, breasts bare, body on display for his viewing yet not a bit of shame flustered through your mind. You loved the way he was basking in the view, enjoying the way your arms reaching out, calling for him to return and share with you his warmth. 

“Like what you see?” You whispered, hot breath fanning the shell of his ears as you tugged away his shirt. 

“You have no idea…” 

The last bit of fabric shielding your body finally ripped away, nothing left to hide your fragile body but the dirty bundle of fabric that was your underwear, and him. Wet trail lining the path down to your breasts, he wasted no time before letting himself a taste, tongue lapping gently at your harden nub. 

“You’re so amazing, baby… I can’t get enough.” The words escaping through his gritted teeth as his hand squeeze down on your breasts, eyes nearly rolling back into his skull from the sensation so wonderful. He nuzzled once more into your neck, nipping at the soft curve of your breasts before letting himself be free of his clothes, your needy hands tugging desperately at the fabric. It was your turn to bask in all his glory, magnificently sculpted and perfect, all for you. It felt so much like that night, yet so different. His body, just as amazing and godlike as you had remembered but there was now a softness, a touch of sweetness as Junhoe restraint himself, all for the sake of your enjoyment as he hovered above your body. You let your eyes raked down the soft skin of his torso, shamelessly admiring the hard length rocking gently against his tight abs. You were drooling, drooling over your man and all the things he’ll do to you in just minutes time just as you should, just as you deserved all along. 

You wondered how, if you ever really had it in you to be patient or was this unbearable burn to be destroy by the man you love had been a product of Koo Junhoe. You reached for him, hard length hot under your fingertips, twitching in excitement as you let your thumb run over the wetness dripping from his tip. Your movement languid, lazily trailing down, feeling each vein prominent against your skin as a small cuss hissed through your lips. It seemed to satisfy him, how obsessed you were, how completely enthralled you had been for his dick that you were nearing the point of salivating all over yourself. Your eyes unwavering, focusing on his length and his length only as you gently squeeze down, applying just enough pressure to send Junhoe doubling over onto you yet not enough to hurt him… To take away all his will. His knees wobbling, the arms he had caging your head too shivering with each stroke of your hand over his throbbing length. Junhoe was doing all he could, giving his all because he wanted tonight to be about you. He took all he wanted that fateful night, took you for all you had and more. It was only right you get to do the same. As much as he’d love to let his weight crashed down on your body, to let his fingers gripping into the soft skin of your thighs as he forced them open to taste you, to satisfy his own need to see you cum, over and over again, Junhoe needed to put his own wants aside for just a little longer. He had his chance to explore your body, mapped it in his mind so well, he knew it like the back of his hand for he had studied every inch of your body that night as he reigned over you. His wish was for you too, to do the same. So instead, he let his eyes fluttering shut, rocking gently into your hand as you peppered kisses along his chest. 

“Baby, lay down. Relax…” So far from the harsh demand he had broke you down with, your wishes felt like feather against his skin, gentle as you tug his lips in between your teeth. He complied, just like the good boyfriend he wanted so desperately to be even if history spoke nothing of the sort. He let his head crashing into the softness of your pillow, taking in the puff of fresh scent, of you clouding his mind, forcing his eyes shut. Yet just as soon as his lashes had the chance to tickle his skin, his eyes were widened in shock when you let yourself sunk down onto his length. His hands gripping harshly over the soft skin of your thighs, a ragged gasp ripped from his throat as he took in the sight of you.

“Fuck” He groaned a cuss, unable to bear any longer the sinful sight of you with your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, hair draping messily over your breasts and shoulders as your head lulled sideway in pure bliss. 

“Sorry, sorry…” You rushed out a few apologies, but they soon melted away into incoherent groans as shivers running through your body. Junhoe couldn’t tear his eyes from your body, shuddering in pleasure, the way your breasts shook ever so slightly every time you had attempted to move only to give out under the overwhelming gratification of being filled to the brim. “I- I couldn’t wait anymore…”

“It’s alright, baby. Whatever you want…” His words lost in the gasp you had just stolen from his lips. Junhoe felt his toes curling, chest tightening when you began to ease yourself into a gentle groove. Hands bracing against his chest, you dragged yourself slowly forward, feeling his length slipping away nearly entirely before sinking yourself back once more. Your thighs gripping his body, nails sinking into the smooth skin of his chest, you had forgotten just how full you’d be with Junhoe. Your gentle rocking soon grew erratic, heart beating to its own drum as your knees began to burn, dull aching settling into your abdomen. Junhoe snaked his hand onto your bouncing breasts, reveling in the way you were fighting your own exhaustion to chase the high so close to achieving. He couldn’t help but let a smile breaking over his trembling bliss watching you take charge, feeling you taking all he had to give. 

“Let me help you.” Junhoe whispered into the kiss when you had fallen over, lips pressing against his hastily, fingertips digging into his biceps. He waited, waited until you nodded fervidly against his cheek before letting himself thrusting upward, stealing all the moans from your lips as your body shook uncontrollably. He held you close, feeling your sweet nectar dripping until the skin of his legs. Painfully hard, his desire only burned brighter when you continued to grind into his length despite the blinding orgasm he had just given you, despite too the heavy breaths hot against his chest. When you finally found the strength to peel your body away from his, to abandon the comfort his arms given you, a pout tugged onto his lips when he felt himself slipped out of you. Yet the very next second, Junhoe was once more chased into heaven when you settled between his legs, fingers finding themselves snugly along his length. Your movement slow, enticing, calling for the small grunts whispered from his lips before placing the tiniest kiss at the tip. When you were certain that his entire attention was on you, watching through his half-lidded eyes, heavy with lust, your lips parted, engulfing his entire length in one swift movement. Junhoe found himself curling over in pleasure so intense, for a split second he considered abandoning all his will and fisting your hair in his rough fingers. He thought about it, on the brink of throwing you onto the bed, hand pushing your face into your pillow as you drown in your own spit, slamming himself into you with all his strength and fuck until you couldn’t remember your own name, fuck until his heart was satisfied. Yet as his eyes met yours, so delicate and sweet despite nearly choking on his dick just seconds before, Junhoe forced himself back onto the bed. Hands gripping into your bedsheet, endless cusses and raspy moans melted into the air as you let your tongue ran down the length of his dick, memorizing the way he tasted, the feeling of his skin against your taste buds. Jaws aching, you inhale a deep breath before sinking down all the way, letting your nose buried into his pubic hair as Junhoe let out a choked sob, jutting further into your throat. He wasn’t ready, Junhoe had thought he was prepare for this moment, for the moment when you were finally his, when he could make love to you, real love and not the selfish fucking he had dealt onto your body on the night that had started it all. But clearly, he was in way over his head for after the long month drought, you felt like heaven under his skin. Each touch, each moan you shared with him like the best drug money could buy and you were willing to give it all to him for the small price of his time and love. He hadn’t thought far ahead, definitely not far enough to foresee you straddling him as you chased your own piece of paradise. Definitely not at all for the loving gaze peering back up as you swallowed his entire length, hot and painfully hard. How could you be so innocently loving yet done to him the most sinful thing, making him feel all the ways that would plunge him into the fire of hell if he were to die this very second. As these thoughts enveloped Junhoe in its own kind of bliss, he hadn’t realized it but he was so close, hand once more fisting your hair as he fuck into mouth and you took it like the good girl he knew you were. But this wasn’t what he wanted, not right now. Any other night and he’d love to cum down your throat, watch on as you choked on his seed, cheeks redden and heavy pants settling in your chest from the lack of oxygen. Any other night but tonight. 

“Sweetheart, slow down… I-“ He heeded a warning, a warning that was ignored as you continued to revel in the feeling of him. Junhoe couldn’t part way with the pleasure blessed unto him but he wasn’t done yet, not yet ready for the night to end so he let his hand cupped your jaws. He said nothing, letting his eyes conveyed all his feeling as he pulled you up into a kiss. He nearly swallowed you whole, already missing the way your lips felt against his as Junhoe laid you down onto your bed once more. No matter how fast his lips move, how skillful, or how hard you tried to mold yourself against his needy self, neither of you could get enough of the other. Junhoe left wet kisses trailing down toward your breast, letting his tongue flicked gently at your harden nipple while his hand massaged the other. He pulled away harshly, aweing at the way your nipples perked up under his ministration. A sharp moan swallowed up by his lips as Junhoe thrusted himself into you without warning, unable to take any longer the calling of his name or the way you looked so much like heaven. 

“Sorry, love. I- Fuck!” The thought in his mind muddled as you wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him all the access, all the angles he needed to guide the night into the best kind of high. “I really want to taste you but… I can’t wait anymore.”

“We have all the time in the world, baby.” Once more your reminder that you were now his, to love, to hold, to fuck, to worship left his heart in a shamble. The happiness searing his heart only fueled further the desire burning with each thrust he dealt unto your weary self. Pupils blown and eyes nearly to dreamland, Junhoe loved how amazing you looked under him. Lips parted, the soft moans you mewled out like music to his ears. He was mesmerized, by the bounce of your breasts, and by the desperate grip of your fingers. Your hair matted to your skin, a soft sheen of sweat glowing ethereally, even more brilliant, even more like those manga girls his teenage-self had fantasized about for so many nights. But you were real, you were real, and you were his and he will never ever get sick of hearing himself say that. As that familiar high pitch whines melting into the air, he knew you were close. So, Junhoe let himself falling onto your body, holding onto you so tightly as his thrust grew erratic, hips snapping faster as he moaned into your lips.

“Cum with me, baby.” He whispered, to which you nodded madly, fervidly as your fingers digging into his sweaty locks, gripping on so tightly as you let out a last scream of his name. Your body convulsing underneath his, continue to ride out your high as Junhoe chased his own. Cuss after cuss, he called for your name, once then twice. Then when words no longer forming in his mind, he let deep grunts of lust falling as you coaxed him toward his own ending. One last thrust and you could feel him filling you up, hot and sticky, your own nectar mixing with his leaking with each slowing thrust as you squeeze down, milking him for all he got. His movement soon ceased as Junhoe collapsed beside you, exhausted, a blissful smile blossomed on his lips when you crawled into his arms, never mind the beads of sweat dripping down his body. For a long while, neither of you said much, letting the ragged breath slowing and heart calming as you basked in the cool air blowing through the window Junhoe had hastily flung open in need of fresh air. 

“Stay the night… Please?” Your voice timid, begging, desperate for him to hold you, for him to be here when you open your eyes when dawn come. 

“Of course.” He whispered onto your forehead, lips painful, bleeding but it was all worth it. 

As you snuggled closer to his bare chest, so close that he could feel your heart, erratic still from the bliss you had both just shared with one another, Junhoe let his finger digging into your dampen locks, feeling you so hot against his skin. Arms drawing you so much closer, he let the drowsiness that had been gently caressing at his sticky, sweat sheen skin lulled him toward dreamland. Though for once in his life, the promises reality was offering outweigh anything the sandman had to offer and he tried, he really did try to force his eyes open to gaze down at the sleepy form snuggling so close in his embrace. But the second he had seen the content smile spreading on your lips as you muttered a sleepy goodnight, Junhoe let himself drifted away, happy and gratified. 

The next second consciousness had called out to the well-rested CEO, he could feel the morning sun so warm against his bare skin and a strange sense of serenity, contentment delighted in his chest. He had yet given into the calling of the bright morning, stubborn still as he squeezed his eyes shut, tugging his blanket close. Yet as the blaring of the third car alarm that had gone off in the short fifteen minutes since reality had decided to slowly lulled him back into its arm, the young CEO suddenly felt out of place. His eyes forced open and for a second, his mind blanked as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings, of his own nakedness. Barely a thin blanket draped across his tone body, panic slowly eating away at his consciousness, vulnerable for the world to see. Junhoe propelled himself off the stiff bed, scrambling for his phone as his eyes simultaneously searched for any piece of clothing, any sign that he had been kidnapped and held for ransom. Pants hastily pulled over his body, he continued searching, searching for any weapons, anything at all that would promise he’d see another sunrise. Just a second before his own heart could work itself into a terminal stupor, his eyes had caught sight of the soft fabric of your dress, dormant still in the spot where he had so carelessly abandoned it the night before. Heart erratic still but a smile already spreading solace back into his rattled self as the memories of the most wonderful first date slowly came back to life. It was only now that he had noticed the many trinkets laid across your vanity table, blushes and lipsticks strewn about. Junhoe stared at the many dresses draped across the chair just beside the door and his heart swelled thinking of just how much time you had put into readying yourself for him. 

Just beyond the still closed door of your bedroom, soft humming and gentle rattles permeated through. And though he loved hearing you, Junhoe was all the more adamant about getting a better place for both you and Irene, one he hoped to have a bit more privacy to love you completely and uninhibited. If not because of all the love he had for you, then definitely for the sake of his company for two of his best workers to have a decent night of sleep without blaring horn and sounds of love, or from the shrieking he had heard the night before as he walked down the hallway leading to your apartment, maybe even murder, leaking through. Carefully, he tiptoed his way into the shared space, mentally thanking Irene for giving him all the time and solitude he needed to be with you, no need for restraint nor consideration. Perhaps the adrenaline of the night before still coursing through his veins, perhaps the nervousness of finally knowing what laid beyond the happily ever after he had so long yearned for, Junhoe can’t help the hammering of his heart as he inched closer to you. An inexplicable craving, desperation to have you in his arms once more even if you had just spent an entire peaceful night right beside him. Your sweet hum echoed through the quietness of a Sunday morning, delicate as the scent of breakfast warped him into the fantasy he had long dreamt of… A fantasy of being home, of being love, and of being a family. Junhoe continued his quest to search for your love, shuffling his way toward the kitchen where you busied yourself over the boiling heat of the stove. Naked still, with nothing more but the looseness of his flannel to shield you away from the prying eyes of the world, he felt so wonderfully domestic, even more so than the dinner and sleepover of the night before. He let himself a second to admire how effortless you were, the easiness in your steps in and the way you command the various pots and pans to bend to your will. You were so beautiful, even as early as it was, even with the strange way your hair had unfurled itself onto your shoulders. A kiss on your hair, Junhoe let his arms woven itself around your waist, squeezing tight as he rested his head on your shoulder, calm as you whispered a sweet good morning. 

Junhoe couldn’t imagine a more perfect morning, or anywhere else he’d rather be than this very second. Being here with you, sharing a bed now sharing the amazing food you had spent so much time and love into creating, it was the beyond his imagination for it was something he was once so sure could never happen for someone like him. Yet you were here, with your kind smile and warmth, showing him what it was like to belong, to be loved. Junhoe knew he was nowhere close to the day when he’d get down on one knee and ask you to let him have your forever, but for once in his life, he felt no rush. Not to say that thought of waiting by the alter as you float down the aisle in the most beautiful dress doesn’t send him into a blissful paradise. Or that the image of you round and waddling as you both await the arrival of your first child isn’t his fantasy now that the one he had of you being his was finally realized. Of course, he wanted all of that, wanted all of you. But if the past few weeks of heartache and absolute terror had taught him anything, it was to be patient. So, he’ll be patient and savor each second of the journey you’ll take him on. Junhoe will commit every smile and every fight to his heart, let it be the foundation that this love will grow on as you both grow old together. The future is never certain, but being here with you on a lazy Sunday afternoon sharing a homemade meal and vibrant conversation, Junhoe was sure with all his heart that this was his new future.

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