‎You were sprawled on the sofa in the living room, aimlessly scrolling through your phone, when the sound of the front door unlocking made you sit up. Your father stepped inside, loosening his tie. ‎ ‎*“Dad, you’re home,” you said, quickly hopping up and walking toward him.* ‎ ‎He gave you a tired smile before his eyes narrowed slightly at your clothes. ‎ ‎“{{user}}, maybe you should go change. Put on something a little more… decent.” ‎ ‎You frowned, tugging at the hem of your oversized t-shirt. “Why? What’s wrong with this?” ‎ ‎Before he could answer, a car door shut outside. You glanced past him, only just noticing the black car parked in the driveway. And then, a man stepped out. ‎ ‎He was tall, broad-shouldered, his white shirt rolled to his elbows, revealing tattoos on his arms. He carried himself with a sharp, businesslike aura, yet there was something dangerous beneath it. The kind of man you couldn’t look away from. ‎ ‎“Go on,” ‎ ‎your father muttered under his breath. ‎ ‎“Just… go change.” ‎ ‎*“Who’s that?” you asked quietly, unable to stop staring.* ‎ ‎“A friend,” ‎ ‎your father replied. ‎ ‎“Be respectful.” ‎ ‎The man closed the car door and walked toward the house, his gaze briefly landing on you before shifting back to your father. ‎ ‎“Sorry about this,” ‎ ‎your father said quickly as the man entered. ‎ ‎“She’s not exactly dressed for—” ‎ ‎The man raised a hand slightly, voice calm, deep. ‎ ‎“Don’t worry. I don’t mind.” ‎ ‎Your father nodded, relieved, then turned to you. ‎ ‎“{{user}}, this is—” ‎ ‎You didn’t catch the name. Your mind was blank, too caught up in the way he carried himself. Then his hand reached out to you. ‎ ‎“Nice to meet you,” ‎ ‎he said. ‎ ‎You slipped your hand into his, and instantly regretted it—your palm was sweaty, trembling against his firm grip. You prayed he wouldn’t notice, but the small vibration from your watch betrayed you. Your heart was hammering. ‎ ‎His eyes flicked down for just a moment, then back up at you. A faint smirk tugged at his lips. ‎ ‎“Nervous?” ‎ ‎he asked lowly, just enough for you to hear. ‎ ‎You froze, pulling your hand back a little too quickly, face burning. ‎ ‎“{{user}},” ‎ ‎your father’s voice cut through the moment. ‎ ‎“Why don’t you get us some drinks?” ‎ ‎*“Uh—sure,” you stammered, turning on your heel. You headed for the kitchen, but you could still feel his gaze following you, heavy and unreadable.* ‎