Archive of Our Own ^beta

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First Meeting

Cold.

As she stands inside your office, you make your first impression of Kim Chaewon.

A crisp white shirt, a black tie, and a pair of dress pants adorn her body. Along with a fitting vest and a suit jacket on top. Her black hair is tied into a neat ponytail. Immaculate. Her face betrays nothing. Rather than apathy and aloofness, it’s rigidity and austerity. No bells and whistles. She keeps herself simple. Despite her height—you estimate her to be at least half a head shorter—it’s impossible to ignore the weight behind her black eyes, obscured by the black frame of her glasses.

“Miss Chaewon will be following and protecting you at all times from now on, Ms Kim,” your assistant says. “After the last incident, it’s been deemed necessary for someone to also stay with you inside of your apartment. Just in case someone tries to” —eyebrows scrunch in a wry expression— “attempt any untoward actions.”

Your mind thinks back to the incident a few days ago. A low sneer escapes your lips. They really are bold for pulling such stunts on you. If possible, you would have liked to send your own ‘gift’ to the people in Rain Entertainment. However, such luxuries aren’t allowed by your people.

Kim Minju is nothing but generous.

Unfortunate.

“If you’ll allow it, she will be the one assigned to it as well.”

Windows cover the back and side of your large office, and sunlight pours through the clear panes. Today, the sun is less forgiving than normal, casting harsh beams and filling your office in a golden hue. Warm grey walls, and polished wooden floors. You sit back against a leather chair. Fingers tap against the wooden mahogany desk. Brown eyes stare at the woman in front of you. An unreadable smile on red lips.

“I’ll allow it.”

“Understood.”

Kim Chaewon steps forward. Still with her unmoving face.

“You can count on me, Ms Kim. I’ll be sure to protect you to the best of my capabilities,” she says. Her voice is smooth. Not one you would expect coming from a bodyguard. Regardless, her tone remains flat. Emotionless in a way. Robotic in another. You wonder if she even knows how to smile.

So serious.

“Sure.” You lean forward against your desk and prop your chin up with the palm of your hand. Tilting your head, brown eyes narrow into crescents. Amused. “I’ll be relying on you, Chaewon.”

You watch as her lips twitch. Glancing over to your assistant, you raise an eyebrow.

“So, my schedule?” you ask.

He flips through his clipboard. His eyes shift left and right as he reads the black lines.

“For today, there are four total meetings with the team at Hessence, Synate, Transcendence, and Azura for the monthly report on the four brands,” he informs. “One before lunch, and the rest will be afterwards.” He looks up. “Will you be having your lunch inside the company or outside, Ms Kim?”

“Inside.”

“Would you like to get your usual meal from the Olive Lantern?”

“That would be nice.”

“I understand.” He nods. “The first meeting with Hessence will start in an hour.”

“All right.” You lean back, setting your eyes to your laptop. The sight of your inbox and an unfinished mail greets you. Fingers settle onto the keyboard. “Remind me again later so I’m not late. You can go now, Baekho. Thank you. And you too, Chaewon.”

“Not a problem, Ms Kim,” he says.

As you type on your laptop, you hear footsteps walking away. The door opens and closes.

Alone. You continue to write up the piled-up emails from the night before. Furthermore, there are also papers to read. Ones you will either send back for revision, reject entirely, or sign in approval. You pour all of your attention into them. Brown eyes read lines upon lines of black letters and numbers. Only the soft tapping of your keyboard, the faint ticking of a clock, and the low humming of the air conditioning unit fill the otherwise silent room.

Bzz. Bzz.

A hand picks up the phone at the side of the desk. You glance down and register the name before picking up.

“Kim Minju speaking.” The edge of your cold phone presses against your ear. You lean back against your chair as you listen to the call. Glancing up, you let your gaze wander the interior of your office. It’s only then you realise the existence of another person in the room. Eyebrows shoot up, and the beating in your chest runs faster.

She stands beside the door of your office. Black eyes stare outside the window on the opposite side of her. Hands behind her, and a straight back. With the amount of noise she makes—or lack thereof—it’s no wonder you don’t even register her presence anymore. Kim Chaewon is a ghost.

A subtle deep breath.

You unclench your hands and ease the tension in your shoulders. A hand reaches up to rub your eyes.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that?” you say to your phone.

“Of course, Ma’am. The procurement of—”

Averting your gaze, you continue the phone call. However, with her presence made known, you find it hard to keep your attention away from her. Brown eyes flicker over to her figure every so often. Fingers tap against the wood. Impatient. Discomfort seeps into your chest for reasons unbeknownst to you. The call ends a minute later, and the feeling persists.

You regard her for a second.

“Chaewon,” you call out.

Black eyes glance over at you. Fingers push up the frames of her glasses.

“Yes, Ms Kim?”

“Have you been standing there this whole time?” you ask.

“I have.” Her gaze flickers away before looking back at you. A subtle emotion in her eyes. One of unease. If you weren’t looking so intently at her, you would have missed it. So, she isn’t an emotionless robot. “Should I not have?”

“No, it’s fine.” You smile.

“I have to—”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You turn your head.

“Yes?”

The door clicks open, and Baekho steps inside. A polite smile on his face. Your assistant is a young man in his thirties. Far older than you, but he treats you with respect regardless. Sun-kissed skin and neatly combed wavy hair. Round glasses hang from his nose. He wears a light-coloured suit vest and a white shirt, folded up to his elbows. A watch wraps around his wrist.

“Ms Kim, the meeting will start soon,” he says.

“All right.” The leather chair rolls against the wooden floor as you stand up. You close your laptop and walk towards the door. “Let’s go.”

He opens it wider, and you step out. He and Chaewon follow you from behind.

The corridor outside of your office leads to very few rooms. Only two other doors line the walls beside yours and the elevator down.

As we go down to the meeting floor, you take a second to tidy your suit. It isn’t hard to do with the mirror walls inside the elevator. Once we step out, the floors transition into marble tiles—your high heels clicking against it—and the walls turn to white. A few of the nearby employees sneak a glance at you. However, they quickly busy themselves with whatever work they have in front of them.

Entering the meeting room, furnished with a long table and projection screen, you take a seat at the head. Baekho sits down next to you, while Chaewon stands by the door. Everyone else in the Hessence team is already seated, and they wait for your cue. The ones in a higher position greet you with a smile, and you greet them back.

“Well, then. How about we start now?” you say.

The meeting proceeds smoothly enough. No hiccups, no reprimands. However, it does go over an hour, bleeding into your lunchtime. While you don’t necessarily mind, you doubt your employees enjoy being cooped up in a meeting room with their boss when they could be eating instead. So, you give them more time for their lunch and return to your office.

Baekho excuses himself, and it’s back to being only you and Chaewon.

You sit back down on the leather chair and stretch a little. Fingers unbutton your shirt. Brown eyes glance towards the woman beside the door of your office. Black ones point their gaze to the far side of the room.

“What were you saying earlier?” you ask.

“What?”

“Before we went to the meeting. You said you have to do something.”

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “I just wanted to say that since I have to stay with you twenty-four-seven, you shouldn’t hesitate to tell me if I make you uncomfortable, Ms Kim. I’ll try to fix it.”

“Fix it?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you sit down over there?” A finger points over to the sofa near the many floor-to-ceiling windows in your office.

A seating area lies over there. Complete with far too comfy sofas and armchairs, a coffee table, a plush rug, and a live plant. Baekho has been taking care of it. You weren’t really interested in having one, but he insisted and even brought it from his own house. There’s a bowl in the middle of the coffee table, filled with candies and snacks. Next to it is a stack of the latest fashion magazines—a must when you’re the CEO of a company dealing with luxury goods.

“I—It’s okay, Ms Kim. I’m fine with standing here,” she says.

“Well, seeing you standing over there makes me uncomfortable. I thought you said you’re going to fix it.” You prop your head against the desk. “So?”

Black eyes look at you then at the sofa and finally back at you again.

“I’ll sit.”

You smile.

“Good.

Chaewon walks over to it and sits down at the end. Her back remains as straight as a ruler, and her hands are tucked politely on top of her lap. A small chuckle escapes you. Would it be too much for her if you asked her to relax? Probably.

Knock. Knock.

You pull your gaze away from her and place it on the door instead. An eyebrow raises.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Huh Yunjin. Mr Baekho asked me to deliver your lunch, Ms Kim,” a feminine voice answers.

“Oh, come in.”

The door opens and a tall woman steps inside. Long brown hair and a cheery smile on her face. You’ve seen her before around the office. If your memory doesn’t fail you, she just joined the company a few months ago. Yunjin asks where she should put your lunch, and you just tell her to put it on your desk. The plastic bag rustles as she does so. You thank her, and she leaves with a small bow.

Today’s lunch is a simple steak salad with fruits on the side and—surprise, surprise—a glass of water. The laptop is set aside, and you clear your desk to open the boxes of take-out. You eat your lunch while looking through your phone, browsing the internet and reading whatever catches your attention. It’s tasty like always. There’s a reason why you like to order from this restaurant.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chaewon staring at you. More precisely, her flat eyes stare at the piece of steak at the end of your fork.

It’s then you realise.

When does she eat her lunch if she’s always with you?

Brown eyes glance down at the meal on your desk. It’s not enough. It’s definitely not enough for two people. Fingers tap against the screen of your phone. You open the delivery app. Wait, what if you accidentally poison her because you don’t know her allergies? You don’t know what she likes either.

A moment passes.

You set your phone down and look at her.

“Chaewon,” you call out.

“Yes, Ms Kim?” Black eyes flick up to yours. A gesture of your hand. You wave her closer.

“Come here.”

Standing up from her seat on the sofa, she walks closer and stops a few steps from your desk.

“No, come closer.”

She takes another step closer.

“Closer.”

Another step.

“More.”

Once she’s close enough, a hand reaches out and pulls her by the wrist, stopping once she’s only a step away from your chair. A small note appears at the back of your mind. She has lithe wrists. You tug her downwards to your eye level. She blinks. Her lips part to say something, but you push your fork against her lips. With this distance, you see the subtle tremble of black eyes. You register the tensing of her shoulders and the freezing of her body.

“Relax,” you say. “Just eat it. I know you haven’t had lunch yet.”

Ever so slowly, pink lips part. She eats the steak from your fork. You smile. You let go of her wrist in favour of patting her head.

“Good.”

She chews in silence, but you can see how quickly she’s trying to finish it.

“What do you want to eat?” You prop your chin up. Her hair is soft. Smells like cherries. Likewise, her ears are tinted in cherry red. “I’ll buy it for you.”

She swallows. Did she even taste the steak?

“I’m—I’m fine. You don’t have to do that for me, Ms Kim.”

“It’s okay. It’s my responsibility to keep you well-fed too, isn’t it?” You tilt your head. “Would you be able to protect me with an empty stomach?”

Black eyes avert their gaze. You chuckle.

“Do you like meat?” you ask.

A soft nod.

“Then I’ll buy you meat.” A chuckle leaves your lips. “Hamburger? Steak? Pork belly? Just tell me what you want.”

“A—Anything is fine, Ms Kim.” Fingers touch the back of the hand on her head. Gentle. Yet she doesn’t pull you away. Leaving it there without doing anything. Perhaps too afraid of offending you. Perhaps she enjoys it. Pfft, as if. The former is the most likely case.

The hand retracts.

Immediately, she straightens her back. Although, the red creeping up her neck isn’t lost on you.

“Then what about your allergies?”

“I have none.”

You hum and take your phone.

“Last chance to tell me what you want to eat.” Brown eyes meet black ones. “Otherwise, I’ll buy you a hamburger.”

“That’s fine.” She clears her throat.

“All right then.” A hand pats her arm. “You can go back to your sofa. Your food will arrive soon.”

“Thank you, Ms Kim.”

You hum.

When her burger arrives—which you bought from your favourite burger place—she eats it while facing away from you. Perhaps a mix of manners and not wanting to be seen while having a meal. Regardless, despite her efforts, her stuffed cheeks peek out from behind her hair. She looks like a tiger, yet becomes a hamster whenever she eats. Something swirls within your chest. You can’t put a finger on it, but the smile on your lips is undeniable.

Propping your chin against the back of your hand, brown eyes watch your new tiny bodyguard.

Cute.

//

Rough Mornings

For some people, mornings are a rare reprieve from the busy world.

There is a sense of tranquillity within the still somnolent world. The sun awakes on the horizon, and the skies are painted in baby blues and pastel pinks. The refreshing air and the silence within the apartment. The distant hums of cars and the faint buzz of people as the city rouses from its sleep. Light peeks through curtains and tints the room in a cool hue.

And yet you can’t seem to enjoy any of it.

Kim Chaewon is not a morning person. You would rather sleep your way straight into the PMs.

However, your boss always wakes up in the morning to go to her office. So, you’re forced to wake up early whether you like it or not.

Brrrring!

A hand quickly shoots out from underneath the covers and slams down onto the alarm clock. Black eyes squint open. 06:30 AM. Half an hour until Ms Kim wakes up. A hand grasps the quilt and pulls it off of your body. With clouds still inside of your mind and sand in your eyes, you sit up sluggishly. Fingers rub against your eyes before falling onto your lap.

One-second passes. Two seconds pass. Three seconds pass.

The world fades.

Then a sharp inhale and you open your eyes once more. You glance towards the clock. 06:16 AM. A sigh heaves out of your lips. Feet touch the cold wooden floors. Legs bring you to the ensuite bathroom. Articles of your clothing leave a trail behind you. The shower door squeaks open.

As you twist the faucet, warm water pours down from the shower head. Soon, the whole room becomes filled with steam. A slow exhale. Turning your chin up, you let warmth shower your face. The clouds dissipate from your mind, and black eyes turn clearer. Various thoughts cross your head. More often than not, they involve Kim Minju. You don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

One thing is for sure. Your life has been filled with her and nothing else for the past few weeks.

Your boss is strange.

Very much so. You can’t predict her actions or guess what she’s thinking. Her smile is ambiguous. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad. You’ve seen her joke around, and you’ve also seen her reprimand someone to tears. Yet the smile on her face never changes. Differentiating the nuance between all of them seems impossible. You wonder if there’s a difference in the first place.

Ms Kim also has a strange tendency to pat your head. You don’t mind it, but—the tips of your ears turn red. You’d like to think it’s from the heat of the shower.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you go through the motions of wearing the usual uniform. A black suit and a matching vest and pair of pants. Underneath all of them, you wear a white shirt and tie. A hand picks up the comb, and you brush your hair into a neat ponytail. You put on your watch around your left wrist. Fingers grasp the frame of your glasses and you wear them.

Checking yourself in the mirror, it all seems to be in place. Eyebrows furrow and a rare frown on your lips. A sigh escapes you. You have half a mind to rip your uniform off and crawl back inside your bed.

Why does Ms Kim have to wake up so early in the morning?

Twisting the doorknob, you step out into the living room of your employer’s apartment. It’s a large space. Enough to fit a large sofa, two armchairs, a coffee table, a TV and its stand, a bookcase, and a rug. All in different shades of grey, white, and beige. Little decorations are scattered throughout the space. Polaroids, photo frames, and little knick-knacks.

On the other side, there’s the door to Ms Kim’s bedroom. On the right are the kitchen and the front door

You walk over to the sofa and wait for Ms Kim. At first, you stood in front of the front door, but she insisted you sit down over here instead. Despite her strangeness, Ms Kim is a kind person. Although, perhaps a little too kind at times.

A few minutes later, her bedroom door opens, and she comes out wearing chequered slacks, an unbuttoned white shirt, and a pair of slippers. Noticing you, a smile appears on her lips, and she greets you with a good morning. You nod in response. She goes into the kitchen and starts her routine. There’s always a sense of enjoyment in her mornings. At least, far more than yours. Coffee floats in the air, and she pours herself a cup.

This is another one of Ms Kim’s tendencies. She never buttons up her shirt to the top. Always left open right below her collarbone. You avert your gaze away, opting to stare at the view outside of her apartment windows. There isn’t anything particularly interesting. However, you find it hard to place your eyes anywhere else. A low creeping heat rises up to your ears. You shake it off.

A mug appears in front of your face. The scent of coffee and caffeine enters your nose. Black eyes look up at her.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Well? Aren’t you going to take it?”

Gingerly, you take the mug into your hands. The warmth of it spreads onto your palms. You resist the urge to frown. She sits down next to you, drinking from her own mug leisurely.

“You’re not really good with mornings are you?”

“I’m fine.” You set the coffee on your lap.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Placing her mug on the coffee table, she scoots over and leans close. Jasmine overwhelms your lungs. You move away. Shoulders tense. Her hand lands on the collar of your shirt. A smile on her lips.

“And yet you dress so messily.” She fixes the mismatched buttons on your shirt and the skewed tie around your neck. Fingers brush against your skin. Heat rises from your nape to your ears. Jaws tense. Black eyes slip down to her collarbone. You swore everything was okay when you looked at the mirror earlier. “Were you distracted?”

She’s not wrong.

“I—I’m sorry.” The heat flares up.

“What are you even sorry for?” A chuckle. She presses the collar down as she finishes. “There. It’s all fixed now.” Brown eyes glance up and meet up with yours. A hand reaches out and pats your head. “Good.”

“Thank you, Ms Kim.” Black eyes tremble. You don’t know where to look.

Her hand retracts, but she doesn’t move away.

“Not going to drink the coffee?” She tilts her head.

A hum and a small nod. You look down at the dark brown liquid inside the mug. Bracing yourself, you take the tiniest of sips. A subtle frown appears on your face. It’s bitter. So, so bitter. As if rust on your tongue, you swallow the urge to spit it out. To Ms Kim’s credit, it does have sugar in it. For a normal person, it’s probably fine. However, Kim Chaewon hates anything bitter. Some say you have a child’s palate, you call it not being a masochist.

“Actually, give me that.” She takes the mug away from your grasp. Brown eyes turn into crescents. Something lies within them. Something you can’t quite decipher. The smile on her lips seems to have widened. “I already finished my coffee, and I want more. You know how it is, right, Chaewon?”

Her lips press against the rim of the mug—the same place where you took your sip—and she drinks ‘your’ coffee. The redness in your ears deepens.

You, in fact, don’t know how it is.

Does she get pleasure in taking away what’s yours or something? You suppress the frown from fully appearing on your face.

“I’ll buy you something else later,” she says. “What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do that, Ms Kim,” you say. Curt.

A chuckle comes from her.

“Hot chocolate?”

A second pass with none of us speaking. The humming of her kitchen appliances and the ticking of the clock on the wall fill the space. Brown eyes continue to stare at you. Still with the ever-present smile.

You nod. A small one.

God damn it. You couldn’t just hold yourself back, could you? Look at what you did, Kim Chaewon. Now, Ms Kim will know about your childish tastes. She wouldn’t mind, would she? No, wait. Why are you even bothered by this? She’s just your employer. You shouldn’t care what she thinks about your tastes. It’s none of her business.

“Then I should hurry and prepare so we can get your hot chocolate earlier.” An eyebrow raised.

If someone could bury you inside a hole, it would be wonderful. Thanks.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Drinking the rest of your coffee, Ms Kim takes the mugs away and places them inside the dishwasher. She disappears behind the door of her bedroom and reappears minutes later, wearing a slick suit and a thin-rimmed pair of glasses—still with her shirt unbuttoned below her collarbone. A bag hangs from her shoulder, and she wears a pair of high heels.

You stand up and wait for her at the front door.

Grasping you by your wrist, she pulls you to her car, where her driver waits. We sit next to each other. It’s protocol. On the way to her office, you look out the window and watch the passing buildings and pedestrians. A small stop by a coffee shop. She buys you the hot chocolate she promises. Afraid of burning your tongue, you slowly sip it for the rest of the journey.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully, busy running from one meeting to another.

Once the day ends, Ms Kim makes another stop at a supermarket before returning back to her apartment. She picks up a large tin of hot chocolate mix. Premium, if you might add. Did she get a craving for it after seeing you drink it?

“I looked it up earlier.” She smiles at you. Looked it up when? You’re pretty sure she had no time between all of her meetings. “Apparently, this is the best one. You can make your hot cocoa at home now.”

You blink.

She places the tin in your hands.

“Come on, let’s go back.” Her hand wraps around your wrist. She pulls you towards the cashier.

Every morning after, the scent of coffee is always accompanied by chocolate and milk. Two mugs on the countertop. One of a fox, and the other of a cat.

Admittedly, mornings aren’t as bad with Ms Kim.

//

The ‘Incident’

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Fingers on top of the keyboard. The screen reflects onto brown eyes. The clock ticks behind you, and the sunlight pours through the window in front of you. Instead of the usual suit, a cardigan adorns your body. Instead of clean slacks, you wear a pair of sweatpants. Instead of the usual formal content on your laptop, thumbnails of various television shows reveal themselves as you search for a particular title.

It’s Saturday. Kim Minju’s day off.

There are no plans for leaving the apartment. So, it should serve as a day off for your team of bodyguards as well. Although, your small bodyguard remains here. She should be inside her room as well, doing—well, whatever it is she does in her free time.

A smile appears on your lips as you think of her.

Amusing, isn’t it? As cold as Kim Chaewon appears with her flat face and unfeeling black eyes, she is the softest person you know. Despite her attempts to hide her emotions, she wears her heart on her sleeve. The small twitches of her lips and eyebrows, the tensing of her jaws and shoulders, and the flushness of her ears. You read her like an open book.

It’s fortunate how quickly you’re able to pick up her cues. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have noticed how much she hates coffee or how much her eyes shine as you buy her a tin of hot cocoa.

However, your tranquillity is rudely interrupted by a high-pitched scream.

Brown eyes snap towards the door of your bedroom. Ripping yourself away from the desk, you run towards your bed. A hand reaches underneath it and grabs a knife. Knuckles white and shoulders tense. Focusing on your ears, you hear shuffling and quick footsteps from your living room. Then you hear whispers of pleas. A desperate feminine voice asks to be spared and let go.

Eyebrows furrow.

Creeping up to the door, you grab the handle and open it.

Bang!

The door swings open and hit the wall. A figure, crouching behind your sofa, flinches. Her gaze locks onto yours. In a split second, she runs over and hides behind your back. Tears well in the corner of her eyes. You feel the trembling in her hands as fingers hold tight onto your cardigan. You blink. A look of terror on her face.

“Chaewon?” you ask.

“M—Ms Kim, there’s—there’s a cockroach over th—there,” she stutters. Black eyes spin. “We—We need—We must to retreat back into your bedroom, while we wait for a p—priest to come.”

“A priest?”

“Those things are of the devil! We need to get your house exorcised,” she exclaims.

Laughter threatens to bubble up, but you suppress it, lips twitching. Instead, you turn around and push her inside your bedroom. An amused smile on your lips. You grab her hand and place the knife inside her palm. You hold onto the handle of the door. Black eyes stare at you with furrowed eyebrows. Her lips part, but you interrupt her before she can speak.

“Use that just in case the cockroach comes in.” You press a finger to her forehead. “I’ll take care of it.”

“But—”

“No, buts.” A tilt of your head. “Stay inside until I call for you, okay?”

She nods. Obedient.

The door closes with a soft thud, and you head towards your living room, picking up the insect spray from the cleaning closet on the way there. Brown eyes search for the menace. Only to find it crawling in front of your tv. You grimace. You’ll have to clean the space later. A couple of steps forward and a very long press of the spray later, the demon twitches on the floor.

Dead.

Using a small broom and a dustpan, you throw it into the trashcan and wash your hands in the kitchen sink because ew.

“Chaewon,” you call out as you walk back towards your bedroom. “It’s gone now.”

Slowly, the door to your bedroom slides ajar. A pair of glasses peek out from between the gap. The knife is still in her tight grasp. You grab the edge of the door and push it wider. It’s then you notice her tousled hair—her ponytail missing and her hair sets against her shoulders—her skewed glasses, and her dishevelled black suit. You lean against the frame. Locks of your long black hair flow loosely from your ear, covering your right eye. Brown eyes peek through in a crescent.

“I thought you were supposed to be the one protecting me?”

“This and that are different.” She brings her hand up, coughing into it. The tips of her red ears in your gaze. Her face returns to its usual flat expression.

“How so?”

“Cockroaches are devil spawn,” she mumbles. It’s impossible to suppress the bubbling laughter from your chest. Black eyes avert their gaze to the side. Her nape turns red. “I can’t protect you against insects, but I can protect you from everything else.”

“Really? Even worms?” you ask. An eyebrow raises.

Seconds pass without an answer.

The smile on your lips widens. You pull the knife away from her hand and hide it behind your back, while another hand reaches out. You brush and clean her hair. Fingertips brush against her face. She refuses to meet your gaze as the flush on her face becomes deeper by the second. Something stirs within your chest once again. Perhaps it’s the cherries in the air.

Yes, it must be.

You hold onto her wrist and bend down to her eye level, your figure casting a shadow over hers. Cherries become ubiquitous.

“Thankfully, I’m not afraid of them,” you say. A gentle tone. She directs her gaze to you. Slow and tentative. You don’t think you’ve seen this kind of look in them before. Fingers tighten their hold on her wrist ever so gently. Does she look at other people like this? Would it be too greedy of you to say you want to see it more? “I’ll protect you from them.”

Pink lips part, wanting to say something—anything. In the end, all she says is—

“Thank you, Ms Kim.”

“How about you call me ‘Minju’ instead?” you say. Her face flares up even more.

“That—That wouldn’t be appropriate for—”

“Are you going to go against my word?” you ask.

“No.”

“Good.”

//

Spoiling Tiger

Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc.

The clock ticks inside the office. Black eyes stare outside of a large window. The sun drowns on the horizon, and the sky is dyed in shades of orange and pink. The floating large fluffy clouds in the distance and the blinking lights of the gold-painted city. You hear the honks and drums of the cars in the streets below. The day is coming to a close.

In a few more hours, the sky would turn dark and the stars would come out to play.

“Continuing from that—”

You glance over to the front of the room—to the employee presenting the slides on the large projector screen—and then down to the woman at the head of the long table. The other employees sit to the left and right of her, while you stand at the back against the wall.

Kim Chaewon doesn’t claim to be a genius. Let alone the smartest person in the world. However, you know you’re not exactly dumb either. If anything, you would consider yourself to be one of the sharper tools in the shed. You’ve even learned to distinguish between Kim Minju’s enigmatic smiles in the last few months you’ve been with her. Yet you could never figure her out. Not completely anyway.

You don’t think you could count how many times she has left you speechless and dumbfounded.

A blazer hangs from her shoulders, and a white shirt underneath—still unbuttoned at the top. The sun kisses her skin and paints her in gold. Her finger taps against the table. Brown eyes focus on the projector. We’ve been here for hours. She seems to look fine, but you don’t miss the dullness threatening to take over her eyes.

The meeting only ends hours later when the sky has turned pitch and the moon rises in the heavens. The faraway cars remain a constant.

As the doors to her office open, she discards her blazer and sits down on the sofas with a thud. Leaning back against it, she rests a hand on top of her eyes. A sigh escapes red lips. You follow close, tidying the discarded jacket and placing it by the coffee table. You stand in front of her.

“Ms K—”

“Ah.” Her hand falls to her side. She sits up straight and smiles at you. “Now that I think about it, it’s already dinner time, isn’t it?”

A nod from you.

Her hand reaches up to hold your wrist, pulling you down to sit next to her. You comply.

“What do you want to eat?” she asks. Leaning closer, she takes your glasses away. A hint of jasmine in the air. “You like steak, right? You seem to enjoy it a lot. I’m done with work so we can go out to a restaurant tonight.” A finger brushes away a lock of your hair. “I know a really tasty one. You can eat as much as you want there. I hear the desert there is amazing as well. You can have your ice cream.”

A hand holds onto her forearm.

Despite your flat face, your chest tightens. You really can’t figure her out. She’s the one who’s tired and yet—

“Ms Kim—”

“No,” she interrupts you. A leisurely smile paints her lips. The same one she wears whenever she teases you.

“Ms Ki—”

“Wrong again.”

You avert your gaze to the side. A frown on your face.

“Minju,” you say. Quiet and hushed.

“Good job.” She pats your head. “Was it that difficult, Chaewon?” A finger hooks onto your hair tie and pulls it loose. Your black hair cascades down to your shoulders. Her hand slips down to rest beside your thigh. You lean away from her. The grip on her forearm tightens as the beating of your heart pounds inside your ears. “So? What did you want to say?”

Why do you let her do all of this? Why can’t you just push her away? Your mind is a mess. It doesn’t make sense.

“None of it is necessary.” The tips of your ears turn red. “We can just go back.”

“I suppose you are tired from standing all day.”

“That’s not—I’m not tired.”

“Really?” she asks with a lilt in her voice.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.” She moves away from you, planning on taking her blazer from the table. Yet the hand on her arm stops her. Black eyes stare up into hers. “What is it?”

“Why do you do this?”

A second passes.

“Do you really not know why?” she whispers.

You shake your head.

A small chuckle leaves her. She leans closer. Instinctively, you close your eyes. With every breath, your lungs are filled with her and nothing else. The jasmine suffocates you. Yet somehow, you don’t mind. Red lips press against your cheek. Soft. Ginger. Faint enough to make you question if it ever happened. Minju moves away again. This time, you don’t stop her.

“Then it’ll be your homework.” Her smile is different. Her eyes are different. You haven’t seen them like this before. You don’t understand.

You don’t understand.

“Chaewon.”

You blink.

Searching for her figure, you find her by the door of her office. The blazer hangs from her shoulders once again. Her bag and laptop in hand.

“Let’s go. Before the restaurant closes.”

You stare, and stare, and stare. A moment passes. Only the sound of passing cars and the low hum of the AC unit fills the silence between us. She raises an eyebrow. An unspoken question.

A breath.

“Okay.”

On the drive to the restaurant, black eyes stare outside the window once again. The city lights pass by, dying the interior with a glow in one second and disappearing in the next, and the pedestrians become a blur. She doesn’t say much during the ride, opting to rest and shut the world away instead. Yet she refuses to let you go—to shut you away like the rest. A certain warmth comes from your fingertips as hers brush against yours.

You pretend to know nothing about it.

We arrive soon enough. The restaurant has an impressive design. Large glass-paned windows. Wooden floors and textured walls with marble and gold accents. The lights are dim enough to be atmospheric but not enough to become unbearable. All the servers wear neat formal clothes, and the rest of the patrons wear dresses and suits. The moment the front door opens, you are greeted with savoury smells.

Shoulders tense.

This is definitely not a place you can afford.

As we are taken to our table—a private space for you and her—you whisper to her, telling her it’s not too late to just return to the apartment. She just smiles. Even as you sit down and stare at the menu, you can’t help but fidget.

“Chaewon,” she calls out. “It’s fine. I’ll pay for everything so you don’t have to worry about anything. Just order as much as you want.”

“But—”

“Either you order or I’ll do it for you.”

You quickly take a look at the rest of the menu. What if she orders something even more expensive? You don’t want Minju to become bankrupt. So, you tell her what you want. She waves over a server and tells them our choices for the night.

As it turns out, dinner is a full course meal. From the moment the appetiser is placed on the table, black eyes start shining. You take the first bite, and you swear it just melts on your tongue. The bread is so good, the butter is amazing, the meatballs are delightful, the smoked salmon is—to say the least, you quickly forget the price and abandon all of your reservations. They have been thrown off a cliff, and you don’t miss them. You even forget about the woman sitting in front of you.

With stuffed cheeks, you eat as much as your stomach and gluttony allow you.

When you think you can’t eat anymore, dessert comes out, and wow, suddenly you have more room inside your stomach. Some people might call it unsightly, but you don’t just refuse dessert. It’s unthinkable. Blasphemous even.

A finger pokes your cheek.

You turn your gaze towards her. A question in your eyes.

“Nothing.” Minju chuckles. “Just curious.”

“About?” Your words become distorted from the mouthful of chocolate lava cake.

“How soft it is.”

“What is?” A tilt of your head. She rests her head against the palm of her hand. Brown eyes turn into crescents.

“I wonder.”

//

Hellish Places

Chattering voices turn into an indiscernible noise as the crowd buzzes.

High heels click against the red carpet. With every step, the CEO of VNHM, Kim Minju, excludes an aura of confidence. Red lips smile. An amicable look on your face. Unlike your usual attire, you adorn a black turtleneck and a tweed cropped blazer—buttoned closed—along with a pair of fitting black pants. Round glasses hang from your nose, and a thin pair of chains are attached to it, looping around your neck. Wavy long black hair and ruby earrings.

For this event, the company’s stylist did their magic on you.

A few people walk along with you. The more reserved ones make small talk, while the bolder ones go straight into the business talks. Possible partnerships and sponsorships. Despite the smile on your face, you don’t entertain all of them. You place your attention only on the ones you deem to be worth something.

“Ms Kim, our company—” “This time our—” “VNHM has been flourishing—” “Hahaha—” “Have you been enjoying—” “In addition, there’s a projected—” “Would you—” “Do you not think it’s interesting, Ms Kim?”

The event is held in a large venue with high ceilings and bright lights. The floors are carpeted, and the far-off walls are cream-coloured. Booths line the space in a grid, each of them trying to outdo the last in their presentation. Fanciful decorations in some, and minimal elegance in others. Uncountable pieces of jewellery are displayed in their glory. A stage lies on the far end of the hall. Although, it’s empty currently.

There is a sizable crowd inside the venue. However, it isn’t packed. There’s plenty of space between everyone, and you can breathe just fine. The air circulates well enough, and the temperature stays at a comfortable and cool degree.

And yet, the woman standing behind you disagrees.

As you stop in front of a booth, brown eyes peer from behind the frames of your glasses—past the bodies crowding you and onto her figure a few metres away. Voices fade into the background. Furrowed eyebrows appear on her otherwise flat face. Her gaze is directed downwards, shifting left and right. A finger hooks onto the collar of her white shirt, and she adjusts it. Strands of black hair stick to her neck.

She sighs.

“Ms Kim.”

You blink. Turning towards the woman who talked, you smile.

“Yes?”

“About the…” The ash-brown-haired woman continues to talk further about a possible partnership with her clothing brand. A slight accent to her voice. You listen to her. After all, Miyawaki Sakura is not someone you can just ignore, especially not the company behind her. “Our brand will be launching a new line for the fall-winter season and…”

“Would it be possible to see the…”

“Of course, Ms Kim. I’ll ask my assistant to send…”

As the conversation continues, you keep your tiny bodyguard within your sight, casting a subtle glance towards her once in a while. The sleeve of your blazer pulls back, and you read the watch on your wrist. 12:03 P.M. It’s already been a couple of hours since you arrived. Perhaps it’s time to—

Thud!

Heads snap towards the commotion. You find Chaewon on the ground with a man on top of her. She winces and hisses. Her glasses are missing from her face. Instead, it lies on the ground. Thrown far from its owner. Your blood boils.

Sakura’s words no longer register inside your mind. You mutter a quick apology before pushing her aside. You walk towards the man with long strides. Jaws tense. A hand grabs the back of his collar and rips him off of your bodyguard’s body. As he is forced to stand up, he grabs and shakes his head. You grip his arm. Tightly. Painfully. A cold glint within brown eyes.

“Please, sir.” You smile. “Watch your step.”

“Oh, yes. S—Sorry about that. Um” —he looks at her— “are you okay, Miss? I didn’t mean to bump into you that hard.” He starts to walk towards her, but you stop him.

“I’ll take care of her. Best to be on your way, Sir.”

You release him, and he nods. Timid.

She stands up by herself, dusting off the fallen glasses. You walk over to her. Eyebrows furrowed. A hand lands on her wrist.

“Are you okay?” you whisper.

“I’m fine, Ms Kim.” She clears her throat and wears her glasses. A frown on her lips. Her face is flushed with red, and sweat covers her nape. A sigh escapes you, and her shoulders tense. Her gaze stays on the floor. She mutters underneath her breath. “I really am.”

You turn around.

“We’re going.” Gripping her wrist, you walk and drag her away.

“Ms Kim?”

You don’t answer her.

Once we step outside of the main hall, a long corridor greets us. You hold onto her hand instead. Eyes scour the place, searching for a decent place to rest.

You find an empty room.

The door opens with a click and closes with a thud. A finger presses the light switch and the room lights up with a cold—almost neon—hue. Yet it remains dim. You lock the door behind you. Dirty white walls and scratched-up white tiles. By the arrangement of tables in the centre and the lack of seating, you guess it’s normally used for storage. The humming of the air conditioning fills the empty room. You take a deep breath. The cold air is a welcomed change from the previous perfumed and cologne-filled space.

A hand touches the back of yours.

You glance back.

“Ms Kim,” she calls out. Her serious face remains unchanged, yet her ears are tinted in red. Black eyes stare down at her wrist. “You can let go now.”

An exhale.

“Do you want me to let go?” Fingers loosen. Instead, they slide down to her palm, and they intertwine. “I think it’s fine just like this though. Don’t you think so, Chaewon?”

“Ms Kim, I’m your bodyguard.”

“No, you aren’t. Not right now.” You pull her towards the centre.

“E—Excuse me?” She blinks.

“You’re on break.”

“But I still have a few more hours before—”

“I told you.” You stop by one of the plastic tables. Nudging it with your hand, you deem it strong enough. Without turning your head, you direct your gaze toward her. Brown eyes narrow. “You’re on break. Are you going to go against my word, Chaewon?”

“No.”

“Good.” You pat the table in front of you, letting go of her hand. “Now, sit up here.”

“Pardon me?”

“Sit,” you say, placing force behind your voice.

Black eyes glance at you before flickering over to the table and then back at you. She bites her lip. A nod. Pushing herself up on the table, she sits on it. A small smile appears on red lips. Even on top of the table, she’s still shorter than you. Fingers reach out and take the glasses away from her face. She stares at the shelf on the side, avoiding your gaze once again. You place the black frames on the table.

A hand on the lapel of her suit.

“We should take this off.” Your voice, hushed. “You’re sweating.”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

As you pull off her suit jacket, it slides down her shoulder. However, a hand shoots up to your arm, gripping the fabric of your own suit. Causing her jacket to gather and stop around her elbows.

“It’s cooler here. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Leaning closer, you tilt your head. She doesn’t avoid you, but she doesn’t look at you either. “I’m not going to do anything strange if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just concerned.” Releasing her jacket, the palm of your hands slide down until they cover hers. “About you. I know you hate being out there. I can just ask someone else to come with me.”

Her jaws clench.

“No, it’s okay. I can stand it.”

“While I appreciate how dedicated you are to protecting me, you really shouldn’t push yourself like this.”

A moment of silence passes.

“Chaewon, look at me.”

“Minju,” she finally says your name, and something inside your chest swirls. Black eyes look up to meet brown ones. She intertwines her fingers with yours. Her face softens. “I’m really fine. You don’t have to leave me behind. I can follow you wherever you go.”

A heavy exhale escapes you.

Stubborn.

“Fine, but at least take a break for now, okay?”

She nods.

“Then will you allow me to take off your jacket?”

Another nod.

“Thank you.” You smile.

Hands reach up once more and pull on her jacket. Casting it off to the side, fingers work to unbutton her suit vest, and you take it off of her as well. She pulls on her hair tie, and her hair comes loose. For a second, you think of loosening her tie and unbuttoning her shirt. However, you stop yourself. There’s still a line, and you don’t want to overstep. You hold her waist. She doesn’t stop you. Rather, she holds your arm once more. A subtle pull from her. You breathe in cherries.

“I’ll get you ice cream after this.”

“How much longer will we stay here?” she asks. Her voice, soft.

“Do you want to leave?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“You.”

A hum.

“Will you be angry if I say I’ll just get Eunseo to accompany me?”

Her eyebrows furrow.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.” A soft chuckle. “I’ll greet a few more people, and then we can leave. I’ll keep it short.”

“Okay.” She sighs.

“Still anxious?” you ask.

“It’s manageable,” she says.

“Just focus on me, Chaewon.” You bend closer to her. Lips against her cheek. You whisper. “Don’t think about anything else. Don’t think about anyone else.”

“Hm.” She pulls you even closer.

Her head rests against your shoulders. You place circles around her back. It doesn’t take a while before her breaths turn from laboured ones to soft ones. Despite being your bodyguard, she feels so small in your arms. Too precious. Too fragile. You wonder if she would feel offended if she hears these thoughts of yours. You can’t help but want to keep her close.

When we leave the room, she keeps herself near you. More so than usual. As we enter the main floor, you feel a pull from your sleeve. Glancing down, you find a pair of fingers gripping tightly onto the fabric of your sleeve. You smile and hold her hand instead.

Keeping your business short, it isn’t long until we’re back inside of your car. Instead of returning to the office, we head for your apartment instead. You inform Baekho of your change of plans. You can just work from home.

A head lands on your shoulder. Chaewon falls asleep on the ride back home. Her chest rises and falls softly. Your arm wraps around her waist, and you pull her closer. You suppose you should scold her for not doing her bodyguard duties. However, she’s not just a bodyguard to you, and neither are you just an employer for her. Besides, it’s not as if you can’t defend yourself.

You look outside of the windows, keeping watch of trouble.

It’s okay.

You’ll protect your little tiger.

//

Couch Potato

There’s always a limit to everything.

As people say, everything should be done in moderation. After all, too little of something is bad, and too much of something is also equally bad. Kim Chaewon prides herself on knowing the boundaries of everything she does. You know exactly how much ice cream you’re allowed to eat before your stomach starts to hurt. You know accidentally swallowing a few seeds while eating fruit is fine before it becomes concerning. You know how many episodes of a tv series you can watch before becoming addicted to it.

All of which may or may not have come from experience.

Who knows?

However, it seems as if Minju doesn’t know the definition of ‘limit’.

“Ms Kim.” You stand in the middle of the living room, specifically in front of the sofa. Unlike your usual attire of a white shirt and a black suit, you wear a sweater and a pair of shorts.

Black eyes stare down at the woman lying on the sofa. A messy bun with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Round glasses hang from her nose. A fluffy blanket on top of her figure. Opened bags of chips and candy wrappers lie scattered on the coffee table. Brown eyes reflect the bright television screen. As if she doesn’t hear you, she continues to watch the tv series with no care.

No, you know she heard you. She’s just ignoring you.

Jaws tighten.

“Ms Kim,” you say. Louder.

Her hand reaches inside a wrapper and grabs a piece of gummy. Slowly, she raises her gaze upwards, and brown meet black. She eats the candy. As you part your lips to say something, she directs her gaze back to the screen.

This jerk—

A deep breath.

Keep your calm, Kim Chaewon. You’re far too young to go to jail for murder. Yes, too young and too pretty. You can’t get this beautiful face of yours ruined just because of a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, you can’t give up eating ice cream and drinking hot chocolate just yet. Kim Minju is a provider of goods. Let’s not send her six feet under.

Also, you kind of like her or whatever. It’s not important.

“Minju,” you say even louder.

A smile appears on her lips not even a second later. She sits up and holds your hands. Brown eyes turn into crescents. The tips of your ears turn warm.

“What is it, Chaewon? Do you need something?”

“It’s 06:39 PM now,” you state.

“Oh, is it already that late?” She turns her head to the side, looking at the wall clock. “We should eat dinner soon.”

“You haven’t moved from this spot since this morning.”

“Ah, um, well, it’s really comfortable here.” A chuckle escapes her. But it’s different from her usual ones. More awkward. More guilt-ridden. Black eyes narrow. “It’s my day off anyway. So, a little bit of leisure can be forgiven, right?”

“I don’t think this is only a ‘little bit’,” you deadpan. There is no sharp and cunning CEO of VNHM here. The vixen disappears only to be replaced by a soft and lazy nerd. This isn’t the first time you’ve witnessed this side of Kim Minju. Far from it. In the months you’ve lived with her, you see this weekly. You’ve become used to it.

Somewhat.

“You’ll understand if you lay here with me.” She grins.

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Why?”

“Just” —the scene from the storage room returns to your mind. The arm around your waist and the scent of jasmine. Red lips against your cheek. You feel the heat spread to your nape— “because.”

“It’s really comfortable, you know.” She tilts her head.

“I know. I’ve sat there before.”

Soft laughter bubbles up from her chest. A bright smile on ruddy lips. Brown eyes turn amber in the warm light of the dying sun, gleaming and shimmering. Gold floods the room, and white butterflies flutter in your chest. There’s a pull on your hand. You take a step forward.

It’s odd. She’s not even doing anything special, and yet—

“Come here, Chaewon.”

She pulls again, and you don’t resist. Sitting down next to her, she tugs you back onto the plush cushions. Jasmine fills your lungs. Her fingers intertwine with yours. She turns on her side to face you, and you do the same. The smile on her face seems brighter than the sun. You cast your gaze down towards our hands. It’s too bright.

“See?”

You hum.

“So, what do you want to eat for dinner?”

“Up to you.”

“Are you sure?”

You pause.

“I want fish,” you mumble.

“Sushi? Or is there something else in mind?”

“Sushi,” you say.

“Then it’ll be better if we go to the restaurant directly. Ms Miyawaki told me about a good one the other day. We should go there.”

“I thought you wanted to stay here.”

“Otherwise, you’ll start complaining about me not moving again.” She chuckles.

You smile.

“That’s true.”

Seconds pass without another word. The voices from the tv fill the room along with the ticking of the wall clock. The washing machine whirls and hums from down the hallway. Black eyes glance up at her, and you find brown ones staring.

“Minju?”

She brings your hand up, and her lips press against your fingers.

“You look pretty.”

Your cheeks turn rosy.

“I—I didn’t even do anything.” It’s too warm.

“You smiled.” There’s a look in her eyes. One you’ve seen many other times. One you’ve come to learn the meaning. White butterflies flutter more fervently inside your chest.

Taking your hand back, you press both of them against her eyes, obstructing her vision. You can’t do it. This is your limit. You can’t continue to stare at those eyes. You can’t let her see you like this. You don’t even know what kind of expression you have on your face. It feels as if something is about to burst from your chest and it’s all because she just said a few words. This is unfair. It’s truly unfair.

“Um.” She holds your wrist. “Chae—”

“Shut up. Don’t—Don’t say a word,” you stutter. “I’m putting you on time out.”

“Time out?”

“Yes.”

She leans closer, and you don’t even have the strength to push her away.

“Why?”

“Just—Just because.”

“Then when can I leave time out? We still have to go to the restaurant. I would like to have my vision back for that.” She smiles.

“Two—No, five minutes,” you mutter.

A chuckle.

“Okay.

You’d like to think of yourself as a level-headed person. Able to be calm in any situation. After all, you are a bodyguard. You have to be calm to protect someone. However, when it comes to Kim Minju—it all falls apart. Your head turns to mush, and you become a mess.

It’s all her fault.

//

Irrational Minds

Another day, another meeting.

The same conference room, and a different day. It truly is endless.

However, rather than the usual team, unfamiliar faces mix with familiar ones along the long wooden table. The projector lies unused at the centre, while papers are scattered around it. The bright summer sun pours from the large windows, and the spotless blue sky rains down against concrete, searing any and all who come under its glory. The AC hums, and the people chatter.

Kim Minju sits at the head of the table in a crimson shirt and a black suit. On the other hand, your people sit on the left side, while the other party is on the right side.

Reddish lips and stylish clothes. Wavy brown hair and a charming smile. The woman leans on the table and stares at you with hazel eyes. She speaks on behalf of the FEARLESS Brand. Eloquent and polite. Our company has been discussing a possible collaboration with their prized brand with ours. The follow-up to your discussion with Miyawaki Sakura at the convention weeks before.

“As you can see, our autumn and winter lineup is…”

Brown eyes direct their gaze at the papers in your hands, tracing the black lines of words and colourful photos of clothes. A finger taps against the wooden table.

“Indeed, they are in line with our Azura’s image. Have you…”

“We have also chosen models that could accurately portray our two brands. However, it is as of yet not a fixed list, we are open to discussions and…”

The discussion has been going on for an hour, and it only ends another half an hour later. As the business talks come to a close, the conversation diverges into more informal matters. The woman moves her chair closer to the head of the table. From this distance, you can smell her expensive perfume. It’s nice and sweet. A smile appears on your lips. It reminds you of a certain little kitty.

“Miss Yoshida,” you call out to her.

“Oh, please, Ms Kim. You can just call me Ruri.” She smiles.

“I understand. Then would it be okay if I ask where you bought your perfume, Miss Ruri?” you ask.

“Is Ms Kim interested?” As she laughs, her hand slides closer to yours and she tucks strands of her brown hair behind her ears. “I would love to tell you about it over dinner.”

“Ah, that would be hard with my busy schedule,” you say.

“That makes sense. Ms Kim is the CEO after all.” Her body turns towards your direction. The tips of her fingers touch the edge of your sleeve. You retract your hand and tidy the paper in front of you instead. “My perfume is from Chanel. I could give it as a gift the next time we meet.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary,” you return her smile politely.

“How about you, Ms Kim? I was wondering where you got your outfit from. It looks very nice on you.” Hazel eyes flutter. “Your necktie—”

“Does Ms Kim have thoughts of expanding the business into the fragrance industry?” Another woman interrupts. Nakamura Kazuha carries herself with an aura of elegance yet her smile remains friendly.

“Perhaps,” is all you say before standing up. “It’s been a pleasure to talk with you all.”

“Likewise.”

“Then I shall get going now.”

Leaving the table, the woman tries to talk to you one more time. However, Kazuha stops her. The look in her eyes seems to change, warning the other woman without another word. You raise an eyebrow. Well, it’s not your business.

You step out of the room, and two more footsteps follow you from behind. Baekho informs you of what needs to be addressed next and which needs your attention the most. There won’t be any more meetings for the rest of the day. However, there are paperwork to read and decisions to make. Just the usual things you need to take care of. It won’t take too much time.

As we near the elevators, your assistant excuses himself.

With a ding, the doors open and you walk in. Pressing for the top floor, they close once more. Leaning back, your back presses against the mirror walls of the small space. You hook your finger into your hair tie and pull it away. Long black hair comes loose and you brush it back. Glancing up, brown eyes meet with black ones. Ruddy lips turn up into a smile.

“What’s with the look?” you tilt your head.

“Nothing.” Standing a metre away in her usual uniform is your small bodyguard. Her hands are hidden behind her back, and black pearls peer beyond her glasses. An unchanging flat face.

“Really?”

She nods.

“All right then.” You reach inside your pocket and take out your phone. It looks like new notifications appeared during the meeting earlier. The lock screen fades, and the messaging app opens. You tap against the screen, replying to the texts.

A moment passes in silence.

“Ms Kim.”

“Yes?”

“I like your necktie.”

You look up and raise an eyebrow. Brown eyes flicker down to the plain black tie you wear before glancing at the tie around her neck. It looks the same.

“Thanks? You’re wearing one too though?”

“I like that one,” she insists. “The one you’re wearing.”

A chuckle escapes you.

“Okay.” Pocketing your phone, you loosen your tie and take it off from your neck. You grab her hand and place it on the palm of her hand. “You can have it then.”

“That’s not—” She interrupts herself halfway. The tips of her ears turn red. “Thank you.”

Ding!

“Come.” You step outside the elevator and walk across the corridor.

Chaewon follows you without another word.

The doors to your office open and close. The black blazer slides off of your shoulders, and you place it on the leather chair by your desk. With it gone, the slick black suspenders hidden underneath it are revealed. The sleeves of your crimson shirt are rolled up to your elbows. You reach up to the collar. Fingers unbutton it until right below your collarbone. You prefer it like this anyway. Less suffocating.

You sit down and lean against the leather chair. Legs crossed. Brown eyes watch her.

An amused smile.

She walks to her usual seat on the sofa. Her gaze points toward the necktie in her hand for a second. Seconds later, she takes off her own tie and wears yours instead. She folds her tie and places it neatly on the coffee table.

Cute.

Taking your eyes off of her, you open the laptop on your desk and continue your work. It’s all you do for the next six hours. Unfortunately, work isn’t as smooth as you would like it to be.

It’s only now—deeper into the night—when you can finally rest and call it done. The unrelenting sunlight makes way for cooler summer nights. Unlike the spotless sky in the afternoon, thick rain clouds cover the sky. Large droplets hit the windows. Your office is lit only by the small table lamp by your desk and the overflow of cold city lights. The office building remains quiet as many of the floors are abandoned and empty. Only the showering rain accompanies the silence.

Despite the amount of work, dinner was eaten in time. Less for yourself and more for the kitty by your side.

However, her silence is deafening. Staring when she thinks you’re not paying attention and avoiding when you look back. Not one word was uttered.

Turning off your laptop and gathering the paperwork, you place them inside the drawers of your desk. Brown eyes glance up. The palm of your hand against your chin. She stands by the window, staring outside at the drenched city. Her hair is let loose against her shoulders, and one side is tucked behind her ear. Her glasses hang from her nose. The black suit she wears lies on the sofa and only the vest remains. Simple earrings on her ears. A pair of pigeon’s blood rubies. One you gifted to her a while ago. She’s never left the apartment without it ever since.

“Chaewon,” you call. She turns her head. “Come here.”

Her shoes click against the wooden floors. She stops a few steps away.

“What is it, Ms Kim?” she asks.

“Wrong.” Standing up from the chair, a hand reaches out to pull her closer. Fingers wrap around hers, pulling her closer before bringing them close to your lips. “That’s not my name, is it?”

Ears turn red. Her back presses against the edge of your desk. A hand on your arm. Her gaze shifts before returning to yours.

“Minju,” she says. Hushed.

“Good girl.” You kiss her fingers. The hold on your arm tightens, and the redness spreads from her ears to her nape and cheeks. You lean closer and rest your other hand on the desk, trapping her there. Your head tilts to the left. “So? Why have you been so quiet today?” An eyebrow raised. “You’re quiet at work, but not this quiet.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Lies,” you whisper. The smile on your lips seems more devilish than usual. Darker in a way, mischievous in another. “You can’t hide it from me, you know.”

She freezes.

“Then why ask?” A glare. “You already know.”

“I want to hear you say it.” Brown eyes glint in the darkness of your office. “With your own words. With your voice.”

“Jerk,” she mutters.

“Why did I become a jerk?” You chuckle. “Just be honest to me, Chaewon.”

A moment passes. You stare and wait. Letting go of her hand, you opt to take her glasses off and hold her waist instead.

“I don’t like her,” she mumbles.

“Who?”

“The woman from the meeting.” She frowns. “She was annoying.”

“Mhm.”

“She was flirting with you for the whole meeting,” she says. Arms around your neck. Unlike her usual subtle pulls, she blatantly tugs you closer. Yet her gaze refuses to meet yours. Nuzzling your nose into her hair, you breathe in the cherries. Slowly but surely, the lines between you and Chaewon disappear as we cross them one by one. Tonight, you wonder how much you can do to her.

“And?”

“And I hate it,” she admits. “I really hate it.”

“So, should I make it up to you?”

Fingers grip the fabric on your back. A nod against your shoulder.

“Spoil me.” Her voice becomes muffled from your shirt.

“You’re honest for once.” You pull away to face her. She directs her gaze downwards. “This is rare.”

“You told me to.”

“I did.”

Bending down once again, your nose nudges against hers.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

“It is.”

You kiss her. Lips press onto soft pink ones, and you taste the cherries. It seems everything about her is soft. She takes a sharp inhale. As you press her further into the desk, hands come up to cup your face. Lips move against each other. It isn’t your first kiss. No, of course not. But it’s your first kiss with Chaewon, and it makes it more important—more significant. Euphoria grows inside of your chest, and you can’t help but want more.

However, there are still lines you can’t cross just yet.

You pull away. There’s a dazed look to black eyes. Bringing a hand to her face, she touches her lips. You smile. Cute.

“I’ll spoil you more at home.” You peck her cheek. “Okay?”

“No.”

“No?” You raise an eyebrow.

“More.” She pulls you closer once more. Her breath mixes with yours, and her lips brush against yours. Black eyes darken. “I want more.”

“Wait—Wait, Chaewon—” You lean back, but she doesn’t let you go too far.

“I don’t want to wait.”

“We’re still in the office—”

“And?” She tilts her head and smiles. “You promised.”

You blink.

“Hah.” A low chuckle escapes you. “I guess I did. But don’t blame me later.”

“I won’t.”

Leaning down, you kiss her again. Unlike the slowness in the first kiss, there’s a sense of impatience in her now. She nibbles on your lower lip, and a hand wanders down your neck, caressing your collarbone. As much as you try to grip onto the last string of sanity, Chaewon makes it very hard for you to do so. You hold onto the back of her thighs and pick her up onto the desk.

Fingers on buttons. Her vest lands on the wooden floors. Her white shirt lies open, exposing her skin and undergarment. Red lips leave marks on her neck. Your tongue on her skin. Heavy and shaky breaths. Hot touches and desperate tugs. A hand pulls down on her shirt, and it falls down to her shoulders. The palm of your hand against the bare skin on her lower back, caressing. You should stop. You really should stop.

“Minju,” she breathes out. “Minju.”

You smile.

But your little kitty will be mad if you do. Who are you to deny Chaewon’s pleasure?

//

Plus One

A blanket on your lap, and a bucket of ice cream in your hand.

Bundled in a hoodie two sizes too large, Kim Chaewon sits on the sofa and watches a tv series. It’s a bit hypocritical of you to do this after how much shit you gave Minju for doing this exact same thing. But you’re different from her. You actually went to the gym this morning, and it’s not like you’re going to be stuck at this spot for hours on end. You deserve this. Taking a mountain of mint chocolate ice cream, you shove it into your cheeks.

Yeah, you definitely deserve this.

Abs are nice and all, but eating sweets is nicer.

“Chaewon, have you seen where my—” She stops herself and laughs.

Speak of the devil and she comes. Black eyes glance at her bedroom door next to the tv, and brown ones stare at you with crescents, grinning.

“Never mind.”

“What?” you ask.

“You stole my hoodie again.” She walks over.

“And?” You continue to stuff your cheeks. “Is there a problem here, Ms Kim?”

“No.” Sitting next to you, she shakes her head. “None at all.”

“It’s your fault for mixing our laundry together,” you say. “If it’s in my closet, then I’m wearing it.”

“I’m pretty sure you were responsible for the last batch.” An eyebrow raised.

You keep your silence.

“Anyway.” A chuckle. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Black eyes stare.

“So.” She scratches her head. A tentative smile. “You hate crowds, right?”

“Correction. I hate large crowds that extend into the thousands. Something is bound to go wrong when that many people gather in one space.” Nothing ever goes right in those types of places, and you know this from experience. As much as you would like to control your nerves for her, it’s difficult. “But I’m okay with smaller crowds.”

“How about a hundred or so people? Add another fifty to include the staff.” She reaches up to your face. Her thumb brushes against the corner of your lips, wiping away the remnant of your ice cream.

“I can do that.”

“Good.” The smile on her face becomes less strained and more genuine as a sigh escapes her lips. She licks her thumb. “Because I’ll have to attend a party in two weeks. I’ll be taking you with me.”

You nod.

“As my plus one.”

A pause. You blink.

“Pardon me?”

“You’ll be coming as my plus one,” she repeats.

“Minju, I’m your bodyguard.”

“Well, you’re not only my bodyguard, are you?” A hand on your thigh. She pulls you closer. “You’re also my girlfriend.”

“That’s” —you set your tub of ice cream away— “true.”

“So?”

“What if I don’t want to go to the party at all?”

“Then I’ll ask Eunseo or Yena to accompany me instead. As my bodyguard of course. Although, Wonyoung might want to come as my partner. It wouldn’t be bad for our model to know the others in the business. She’s been gaining more and more attention as well.” Brown eyes glance down at you. “But I don’t think you’ll be happy with that.”

You regard her for a second. A subtle frown on your face.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you mumble.

“Thank you, Princess.” She presses a kiss against your head, and white butterflies flutter in your chest.

The next two weeks go by without any trouble. You continue to be her bodyguard and follow her everywhere. Well, not exactly. At times, Minju would take you down to the design department and leave you there for hours, much to your chagrin.

At this point, the whole company knows Ms Kim favours her little bodyguard. With this occasion, it’s become more obvious to everyone what your relationship with the CEO is. At first, you thought they would react negatively. However, they seem to be happy about it? Well, you’ve always had a great relationship with the employees—they would often give you candy with a smile for some reason. They must have either not minded or known about it already. Minju has never been subtle with her advances.

Lee Chaeyoung and Huh Yunjin, VNHM’s resident designers and fashionistas, were given the job of styling you. Once their claws sank onto you, they refused to let go. Sometimes, their shining eyes instil fear within you unlike you’ve felt before.

“A white dress would look amazing on Chaewon.” Yunjin holds a picture up.

“What are you talking about? It’s obvious she should wear black! We have to match her to Ms Kim’s outfit too.” Chaeyeoung pushes her aside and holds a different picture up. “What do you think, Chaewon? Doesn’t this one look better?”

“Hah!” She scoffs. “Why would Chaewon want to wear a shabby dress like that!”

“I think it’s fine though,” you quietly say.

“See! Maybe you should get your eyes checked, Miss Yunjin.” Tilting her head up, she holds her hand below her chin. Her long nails touch against her red lips. Chaeyoung smirks.

“Well.” She glares as she smiles. “We’ll see whose dress she’ll choose at the end, Miss Chaeyoung.”

During this time of chaos, you aren’t able to accompany Minju everywhere. As much as you dislike it, Eunseo and Yena follow her around in your stead. You aren’t worried about her safety. After all, they are as much, if not more, experienced in this line of work as you are. However, it still rubs you in the wrong way. You can’t seem to settle down when you’re not around her.

Regardless, the night of the party arrives.

As you stand in front of the mirror of your bedroom, you check yourself one more time. In the end, you do end up wearing a black dress. It’s long, reaching past your ankles, and flowy with a few slits along the skirt. A corset top of boning and silk. A thin necklace hangs around your neck, and the usual ruby earrings adorn your ears. With extensions attached, your long black hair flows down your bare shoulders and reaches your back in soft waves. Stilettos and dark stockings.

This is okay, right?

Hands fuss with the layers of the flowy skirt. A slight frown on ruddy lips. It’s unfamiliar.

You hum.

Black eyes stare. A long exhale from your nose.

Turning around, you grab your purse from your desk and walk out of your room. Minju waits for you by the kitchen.

A rather simple outfit adorns her figure. A dark patterned shirt—fitted to her body, unbuttoned, and rolled to her elbows—along with black slacks and a black suit on her shoulders. Leather suspenders run across her chest, and long earrings hang from her ears. Her collarbones are exposed. Her straight hair cascades down. Brown eyes seem to shine with crimson. Fingers pull on the wristwatch.

The door closes behind you.

She looks up, and her eyebrows raise. A smile on red lips.

“You’re done?”

High heels click against the floor as you walk closer to her. She holds a hand out and you take it. You nod.

“You look pretty.” An arm holds your waist, and she leans down. “Really pretty.”

However, hands push against her shoulder.

“You’re going to mess the lipstick.”

“But—”

You glare.

“Okay, okay, I won’t.” She chuckles. Instead, she opts to nuzzle her nose into your hair, hugging you close in her arms. “My girlfriend is so pretty.”

“I get it already.” Ears turn red. White butterflies flutter once more. “You don’t have to keep repeating it.”

“Good things should always be repeated.”

“Come on.” You pull away. Avoiding her gaze, you walk over to the front door. “You’ll be late.”

“They won’t mind.”

“I do.”

“Very well, Mrs Kim.” Minju walks to you. A look in her eyes. “Let’s go then.”

Holding onto her arm, we leave the apartment and go down to the basement where Baekho and Yena wait. The former will be driving us to the venue, while the latter will take over your duties as a bodyguard. It isn’t as if you can’t protect her while still being her plus one. However, she would rather you focus on being her girlfriend than her guard. Thus, the current arrangement.

During the drive there, her hands never leave you. If anything, they wander for more times than you can count. It’s now you’re glad a divider blocks the passenger seat from the drivers. The pop music from the radio fills the space, masking your shaky breaths. Blacked-out windows prevent onlookers from peering inside. As promised, she doesn’t kiss you. However, she might as well be with how close she is. You push her away, but there’s only so much you can do before she gets what she wants.

A hand slips between the slits of your dress. The palm of her hand against your thighs, and her fingers dig underneath your stockings. Your back presses against the door. Cheeks flushed. Her breath on your neck.

“This is inappropriate,” you whisper with furrowed eyebrows.

“What is?” She smiles.

“Minju.” You grip onto her forearm, preventing her hand from going up.

“But I can’t help it.” Her nose trails against your neck. Jasmine overwhelms your lungs. “You look too good in this dress.”

Her thumb caresses your thigh. Slowly, the white butterflies cloud your mind.

“Promise you won’t do anything,” you say. Hushed.

“I won’t.”

The next few minutes consist of nothing but pure torture as her hands continue to wander. She never goes too far, yet it’s enough to make your sanity deteriorate. As we near the venue, however, she stops and acts as if nothing had happened. Black eyes drill holes onto the back of her head.

Stepping outside of the car, we walk into the tall structure in front of us. The party is being hosted within a restaurant, located on the very top floor of the hotel. We take the elevator up, and the sound of slow music enters your ears—muffled and distant. The interior of the space is decorated with white marble and gold trimmings.

The restaurant itself is large and luxurious. Paned windows serve as walls, and the night view of the city lies beyond it. Many of the tables have been stored away with only a few left to the side. Dim lighting and a fragrance of food and perfume. There’s already a sizable crowd within the space. You take a breath, and cold air flows into your lungs. This much is fine. Far better than the usually packed events.

A few people come over as soon as we step inside. She greets them with a polite smile like always before introducing you to them.

“And this is my partner, Chaewon.” She doesn’t elaborate more than that.

You nod towards them.

As we walk further into the room, more people come and more greetings are exchanged. Her hand never leaves your waist. She, for all intents and purposes, shows you off to all her acquaintances. It’s a new experience, and you don't know how to feel about it. You like being known as Minju's, but you’ve never met so many people in such a short amount of time.

Standing near the buffet table, she whispers.

“Smile a bit. You make it look as if I’m holding you hostage.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Do you want Wonyoung to be my partner instead?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then be good and smile.” She pinches your waist. Brown eyes darken. Hints of crimson glint within them. “I’ll give you anything you want after this. So, listen to me, Princess.”

The tips of your ears turn warm. The butterflies flutter.

“Jerk,” you mumble underneath your breath.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing, Ms Kim.”

“Just out of curiosity, were you always this tiny?” A raised eyebrow.

“Ask me that question one more time and I’ll make sure you’ll regret it. My heels are very pointy, and I can and will stab your feet, Ms Kim.”

Her eyes narrow.

“But you’re so lovable.”

“Kim Minju, I swear to god.”

She only chuckles in response, and you sigh. Plastering a smile on your face, you look at her.

“Is this enough?”

She nods.

//

Brave Tiger

It had just been another day.

You were just going to another meeting outside of the office with Baekho and your little bodyguard. There was nothing different from the day before or the day either. Just this morning, you woke up with her by your side, and her kisses filled your heart. We made promises to eat lunch and dinner together. Kim Minju would decide the afternoon menu, and Kim Chaewon would decide the evening one.

It was just another day.

So, why is she lying in your arms on this basement floor? Why are your hands stained in red?

Why?

Why did she have to be brave? Why did she protect you from that man? It would’ve been fine if she hid behind your back like always. It would’ve been fine if she stayed cowardly. It would’ve been fine if she stayed like that forever. You wouldn’t have minded. You already loved her the way she was. If she stayed, then she wouldn’t have—

A shaky breath.

Jaws tense. Knuckles turn white, and your hands tremble. You’re going to kill him. You’re going to kill him. You’re going to kill him. You’re going to—

“Minju,” she breathes out.

Brown eyes snap downward. Her hand reaches to you. As you bend down, blood-stained fingertips brush against your cheek. You hold her closer.

“I’m sorry,” she pants.

No, no, no. Why is she sorry? The sorry one should be you. She shouldn’t have been like this. If only you did your job well—If only you took care of your enemies well, this wouldn’t have happened. This shouldn’t have happened. Chaewon is supposed to have a carefree and happy life next to you. She’s supposed to be eating her favourite foods every day. She’s supposed to be eating her ice cream tonight. You promised her so many things. You promised.

“Why are you crying?” Her thumb brushes against your cheek. For once, she has a smile on her face. Pale and weak, yet genuine. You wanted her to smile for happy occasions. You wanted to make her happy. “You’re not hurt.”

But she is.

But she’s hurt.

The scent of iron mixes with cherries inside your lungs. A nauseating combination. They should have never mixed with each other.

“Hey, Minju,” she whispers. “Can you come closer?”

You lean down further. Foreheads press against each other. Long black hair creates a curtain around us. The pandemonium around us recedes to the background. You hope she can’t hear the screams and shouts.

“Do you wanna know a secret?” The palm of her hand against your heart.

What is it?

“I love you.” Her voice is nothing but a whisper. Your shoulders tremble.

“I love you too.”

A soft laugh from her white lips.

“I know you do.”

//

Loving Fox

“Minju, I’m fine!”

“No, you’re not! You just got back from the hospital.”

Few things can make Kim Chaewon feel embarrassed, and being carried around by your girlfriend everywhere is climbing to the top of the list very fast. With a flushed face—the redness spreading to your neck and shoulders—you hide your face behind the palm of your hands. Her arms hold you by your knee and back. It is most definitely a princess carry.

For the past week, you’ve spent your days inside the hospital to recover from the stab wound. Half of the time there, you spend it in between the waking world and the dark void of nothingness. Not much of the memories remain inside your brain. All of them muddled and unclear. Yet you remember her voice clearly.

Today, you’ve been discharged, and you return home.

Minju insists on letting her do everything for you. While you understand her concern, it’s really starting to be a bit too much.

“My legs are fine. I wasn’t even injured there.” Hands push her away.

“The doctor said to not strain yourself.” She doesn’t even move a centimetre away, and she carries you across the living room. Her suit and unbuttoned shirt still adorn her body. She had come straight from the office.

“Walking is not straining myself.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Says who!”

“Me!”

You groan. Instead of arguing more with her, you just hide your face against her shirt, hoping she doesn’t see your red face. She carries you all the way to her bedroom—which has since become yours as well. Careful of the bandages hidden underneath your sweater, she sets you down on the bed in a gingerly manner. Sitting down at the edge of the bed, her hand holds onto yours.

“How are you feeling?” she kisses your knuckles.

“I’m fine, Minju.” An exhale. You tighten your hand around hers. “The doctor said I’ll be fully healed in a month.”

Brown eyes stare.

“Are you sure about it? You don’t have to keep being my bodyguard. You don’t even have to work really. I can provide for the two of us,” she asks you for the nth time this week.

“Then who’s gonna follow you around?” You smile.

“I can find someone else.”

“And I don’t want that.” You tug on her hand, and she scoots closer. “I’ll be fine, Minju.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really sure?” she asks again.

“Yes.” Our fingers intertwine.

“Okay.” She nods. Then her eyes darken. “Then I’ll have to get rid of all the pests around me.”

“You’re not going to do anything drastic, are you?”

“A few people might go to jail, but that’s not my problem,” she says. “Don’t worry. I know a few people that can take care of things quietly.”

A second passes.

“I’m not even going to ask.” You shake your head.

“Best not. The less you know, the less you can get implicated.” She nods.

“Just don’t get into trouble, Minju.”

“I won’t.” She chuckles. “What do you want to do for the rest of the day? I don’t have to go to the office for two more weeks. I’m finally using my vacation days.”

You take a second.

“There” —a breath— “isn’t anything really. A nap maybe?”

“All right. I’ll get changed first.”

A nod.

As she leaves to change, you get yourself comfortable under the sheets. Minutes later, she returns with her hoodie and sweatpants. Lifting the quilt, she lays down on the bed and you snuggle into her.

“Comfortable?”

You hum. Her hand caresses your back. Careful of your wound. Tilting your head up, her forehead rests against yours.

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

“You know I can’t promise you that,” you whisper. “I’ll always save you first.”

“I would rather you prioritise your own safety, Chaewon.” She smiles. “Don’t you leave me. You’re not allowed to.”

“Says who?”

“Me,” she says. Soft. “You have to stay with me until we’re old and wrinkly.”

“Would you still love me if I have wrinkles?” Fingers hold onto the front of her hoodie, grasping the fabric. It’s become a habit of yours.

“Would you?”

“I would.”

“Well, me too.”

Kim Minju is a cunning fox. She knows exactly how to get the things she wants, and there’s nothing too far from her reach. She’s a coldhearted but fair CEO with a never-changing smile. It’s impossible to know what’s on her mind, but you’re learning. In the past year and more, you learn she’s a couch potato. You learn she’s the incarnation of sunshine when she’s not working. You learn she’s the kindest person you’ve ever met. You learn to love her.

Her lips press against yours.

Black eyes close.

As you lie in her arms, you think to yourself. It might not be too bad to love her till the end.

//