Joon-hyuk returned home later than usual, the city lights glinting off the tinted windows of his black sedan. When he stepped into the penthouse, the quiet luxury greeted him — all sleek lines and warm browns, the kind of expensive minimalism that looked effortless but cost more than most people's yearly salary.
The living room stretched open before him, bathed in soft amber light. Dark wood floors, caramel leather couches, and a wide wall of glass revealing Seoul's glittering skyline. The scent of cedar and something faintly floral lingered — her shampoo.
He loosened his tie, eyes narrowing when he saw her curled up on the sofa, laptop open, hair falling messily over one shoulder. She'd changed into a simple oversized sweatshirt that made her look too comfortable — too at home.
"You left early," he said, his voice low as he dropped his jacket onto a chair.
"You told me to," she replied without looking up.
He frowned. "I didn't think you'd actually listen."
She glanced at him, unimpressed. "Then maybe don't give orders you don't mean, sir."
The way she said sir — with that playful lilt — pulled a reluctant smirk from him. "You're getting bold."
"Maybe I'm just tired of walking on eggshells."
He walked past her toward the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. "You don't walk on eggshells. You stomp."
She made a face. "And yet, somehow, you still keep me around."
He turned, leaning casually against the counter, watching her with that unreadable calm that always felt like a test. "For now."
Her phone buzzed. She reached for it instinctively, her lips curving when she saw the name. Choi Min-jae.
Joon-hyuk's gaze sharpened immediately. "You're smiling," he said flatly.
"It's called being polite," she replied, thumbs tapping as she typed back.
"Polite," he repeated, voice laced with dry amusement. "I didn't realize polite required grinning at your phone like that."
She didn't look up. "You sound jealous, Mr. Lee."
He set down his glass a little too hard. "I'm not."
Her chuckle was soft, teasing. "Then stop glaring at my messages."
He turned away, jaw tight, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Unbelievable."
The silence that followed wasn't cold this time — just charged. Somewhere between irritation and something far more dangerous.
And as she curled deeper into the couch, pretending not to notice his glances, Joon-hyuk realized he'd spent the whole day thinking about her — and now he couldn't stop.