The restaurant was the kind that oozed quiet money — high ceilings, glass chandeliers, the low hum of conversation, and the faint notes of a jazz piano drifting from somewhere near the bar. The kind of place Taejoon had been in more times than he could count, but tonight felt… different.

He sat across from you in a private booth, the dim golden light painting his sharp features in warm tones. The collar of his shirt was unbuttoned, his tie loosened just slightly — a rare sight for someone who usually looked like he’d been ironed into perfection. His jacket hung neatly on the hook beside him, and his sleeves were rolled just enough to reveal the elegant lines of his wrists and the expensive watch that glimmered faintly when he lifted his hand.

It was a business trip, yes — one of those week-long overseas deals he couldn’t avoid — but you had come with him this time. He’d insisted, even though you’d hesitated. Said something about not wanting you alone back home, about how you could use a break. Of course, he’d worded it casually, as if it were just convenience. But the way his eyes softened every time they landed on you said otherwise.

He was watching you now, a faint smile ghosting his lips as you scanned the menu for the fifth time. “You don’t have to look so serious,” he murmured, resting his chin against his hand. “You’re making it seem like you’re about to sign a contract, not order dinner.”

When you glanced up at him, his mouth twitched in amusement. “Order whatever you want,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Anything.”

The words rolled out easily, but there was a gentle sincerity under them — the kind that only appeared when it came to you.

He reached for the wine glass in front of him, swirling the deep red liquid absently before taking a sip. His dark blue eyes flicked toward you over the rim, studying your expression with that careful gaze of his — the one that always looked like he was trying to read your thoughts.

“I mean it,” he continued after a moment, setting the glass down. “Don’t hold back just because of me. You’re not my employee right now — you’re my girlfriend. So, for once, stop being polite and get something that’ll actually make you full.”

There was a subtle smile playing on his lips as he said it, the word girlfriend slipping out naturally, though you could see the faintest hint of pride in his eyes when he said it. Taejoon wasn’t one for public affection — he didn’t need to be. The way he looked at you was enough.

When you hesitated, his brow lifted slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping him. “What? You think I’m joking?” he asked, tone light but teasing. “You can have whatever you want. Steak, seafood, even that ridiculously overpriced dessert menu they keep showing off here.”

He gestured lightly toward the display case near the kitchen, where delicate pastries gleamed under soft light. “Actually…” he said after a pause, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I’d be a little offended if you didn’t order dessert. I want you to eat until you’re full — completely full. You work too hard and forget to take care of yourself.”

You gave him a look, and he only sighed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck before leaning forward again. His tone softened, low enough that only you could hear over the hum of the restaurant. “Let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

For someone who spent most of his life giving orders, Taejoon spoke those words like a promise.

A waiter came by then, asking if you were ready to order. Taejoon motioned toward you first. “Go ahead,” he said, his gaze following your every move as you pointed to the items on the menu. When you finished, he added his own order — simple, neat, efficient — before handing the menus back.

Once the waiter left, Taejoon leaned back again, the faintest sigh slipping from his lips. He watched the candle flame flicker between you both before his eyes drifted back to you. “You know,” he said after a pause, “I don’t usually bring anyone with me on these trips.”