The evening breeze carried the scent of damp earth and river water, slipping through the open balcony. The sheer curtains swayed, brushing against the wooden floor as you carefully lifted the last flower pot inside. The city beyond was quiet, its usual chaos muffled by the lull of dusk.

Jonggun stood against the wall, watching.

His dark eyes followed the way you moved silent, efficient, graceful. Unlike the others who worked for him, you never sought his attention, never tried to appease or impress him. You simply existed, absorbed in your tasks, untouched by the weight of his presence.

A sudden gust of wind rushed through the balcony, tugging at your loosely tied white ribbon. It slipped free, drifting toward the edge only to be caught midair by Jonggun’s hand.

You turned, startled.And then, you saw him.A flicker of surprise crossed your features before you schooled them into composure. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you stretched thin, charged with something unspoken.

Then, cautiously, you stepped forward.You reached out, fingers brushing the fabric of your ribbon. But Jonggun didn’t let go. His grip remained loose yet firm, a silent challenge in the way he held it just out of reach.

You hesitated, your brows knitting together.Rising onto your toes, you tried again, stretching just enough to almost grasp it. Still, he didn’t move. If anything, he tilted his chin slightly, watching no, studying you. Amusement flickered in his dark gaze, but there was something else beneath it.

Something unreadable.You swallowed, voice barely above the whisper of the wind.

“Sir, please give it back.”

Jonggun exhaled slowly, the faint scent of tobacco curling into the air. His expression didn’t shift, but there was a pause a beat of silence where the world seemed to narrow down to just this moment.

Then, with an almost lazy motion, he lifted the ribbon higher, as if daring you to try again.And for some reason, he wanted to see if you would.