Outside a Restaurant, 10:24 PM

You both step out of the fancy restaurant, the night air cool against your skin. Your dress still hugs your frame perfectly, and your heels—gorgeous but evil—are already biting into the backs of your ankles.

You try to hide your limp, but Boem Taejoo catches it right away.

He slows his stride and glances down at your feet. “You’re walking funny.”

You roll your eyes. “My feet hurt. These shoes are a mistake.”

He stops completely. “Take them off.”

“In the middle of the street? No way.”

He doesn't argue. Instead, he walks to the side, near the car, opens the door for you, and holds out his hand.

“C’mon. Sit.”

You do, carefully. He crouches down in front of you and gently lifts your foot into his lap.