Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Seonghwa is a broke college student juggling late-night classes, a part-time job that barely covers rent, and the constant fear of getting kicked out of his apartment. When he answers a strangely formal babysitting listing promising “generous pay, flexible hours, and confidentiality,” he expects a demanding client, not a penthouse, a guarded driver, and Hongjoong.
Hongjoong is a single father and the CEO of NO1, one of the country’s top fashion companies. Between board meetings, runway deadlines, and media pressure, the role he struggles with most is being a parent. He doesn’t just need a babysitter. He needs someone reliable, kind, and completely outside his world.
Seonghwa doesn’t fit the image Hongjoong had in mind. He’s awkwardly polite, visibly exhausted, and clearly doing this job out of necessity. Still, the quiet attention he gives and the way Hongjoong’s child takes to him almost immediately creates a tension neither of them expects.
As Seonghwa settles into their routine, boundaries start to feel thinner than they should. Glances linger. Small touches last a little too long. Every shared task carries an unspoken weight. There’s a pull in the quiet moments, a careful awareness neither admits, as if the space between them is holding something waiting. Slow, deliberate, impossible to ignore.
For the first time in months, Hongjoong feels like he can breathe. And maybe, just maybe, something more than comfort is beginning to settle between them.
Chapter 1 — The Listing
Seonghwa stared at the job listing like it had personally insulted him.
Private household seeking a babysitter.
. Flexible hours.
. Generous pay.
. NDA required.
He rubbed his eyes. Between late-night classes and a part-time job that barely covered rent, he needed this. Desperation had overridden logic. “This is either a scam or the start of something terrible,” he muttered, clicking Apply.
The reply came within an hour. A polite email requesting an interview the next day. Address included. Dress code: casual but neat. Confidentiality required.
He spent the rest of the evening pacing his tiny apartment, running through what-ifs.
What if the kid hates me?
What if the parent is terrifying?
What if I trip on the stairs and die of embarrassment?
He groaned and flopped onto the bed. “Okay, breathe, Seonghwa. Just an interview. You’ve survived worse.” It didn’t make the pit in his stomach any smaller.
The next morning, Seonghwa spent a little extra time in front of the mirror. He brushed his silver hair until it fell just right, rolled on a light fragrance, tucked a neatly pressed shirt under a soft cardigan, and slipped into slightly worn sneakers. Practical, but with a touch of care that maybe wouldn’t go unnoticed. He checked his reflection one last time.
Not too messy. Not too ‘try hard’. Okay…good enough.
The building was more intimidating than anything he’d ever stepped into. Polished floors, glass walls, quiet luxury. A driver met him at the front desk and, without small talk, led him to the elevator. The silence was heavy, broken only by the soft click of his shoes against marble. Everything about the place spoke of wealth, order, and a life that wasn’t his.
When the doors opened, Seonghwa felt the shift immediately. Floor to ceiling windows and neutral colors made the apartment feel pristine and untouched, a reminder that he didn’t belong. Somewhere down the hall, a child’s laughter rang out, warm and unrestrained. The sound tugged at something in him, a mix of nerves, curiosity, and a strange longing he couldn’t place.
“Mr. Park?” a voice asked.
Seonghwa turned as a man approached. Young, sharp features, blonde hair catching the light. His eyes were tired but held a quiet intensity.
“I’m Kim Hongjoong,” he said, offering a hand. His voice was raspy, softened by something warm. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
Seonghwa shook his hand, unsure where to look. At Hongjoong, whose calm presence made his stomach tighten, or at the small child who suddenly darted forward and clung to Hongjoong’s leg.
“Appa!”
Hongjoong’s expression softened instantly. He crouched slightly to ruffle the child’s hair, and Seonghwa found himself holding his breath. Commanding and gentle at the same time.
Seonghwa glanced between them, unsure whether to look away or risk staring. The child’s laughter echoed through the apartment, and Seonghwa realized his heart was doing something unexpected. Too fast. Too aware.
“Would you like some tea, water, or coffee?” Hongjoong asked, professional but kind.
“I’m fine, thank you, ” Seonghwa said, shifting his weight. Every step he’d taken that day suddenly felt heavier.
Hongjoong’s gaze flicked to him briefly before returning to the child. Seonghwa’s attention wandered despite himself, catching details he hadn’t meant to notice. The way the light caught in Hongjoong’s hair. The neat line of his jaw. The careful precision in his movements.
Focus. This is just a job. Just a job.
But the pull in the quiet moments and the warmth in the space made it hard to believe.
“I’m Seonghwa.. Park Seonghwa,” he said, forcing his voice steady.
And somehow, despite the nerves and the intimidation, Seonghwa already knew this wasn’t going to be just another job.