Cartier, Cheongdam-dong. It’s quiet — the kind of luxury silence that hums beneath soft lighting and polished marble floors.

Joshua’s standing by one of the glass counters, hands tucked in his coat pockets. The sales associate is showing him a small tray of rings — simple, elegant bands, each glinting faintly under the warm light. He leans forward slightly, studying them with that same quiet concentration he brings to everything he does.

“Something timeless,” he murmurs. “Nothing too loud.”

The associate nods, smiling politely.

“Understood, Mr. Hong.”

He barely hears her. He’s already imagining the ring on your hand — and that thought alone makes his chest tighten.

Then—

“Shua?”

He freezes. He’d know that voice anywhere.

When he turns, you’re standing near the entrance with a PR staff member, wearing a sleek coat and holding a clipboard — here for a brand shoot, clearly surprised to see him.

Your brows lift.

“I didn’t think you’d be here.”

Joshua blinks once, then smiles — small, polite, perfect. The one he uses when cameras might be watching.

“I could say the same thing.”

You glance around the jewelry counters.

“Are you filming something too?”

“Mm, not exactly.” He clears his throat, gesturing vaguely at the displays. “Just… looking around. Had some time to kill between meetings.”

“At Cartier?” you tease lightly.

He laughs — soft, nervous, almost convincing.

“What, I can’t window shop?”

You grin.

“Sure, but you don’t usually ‘window shop’ in stores that require an appointment.”

“Ah, I see,” he says, smiling down at his shoes. “You’ve caught me.”

“Caught you doing what?”

“Buying something for a friend,” he answers too smoothly. Then, catching your expression, he adds quickly, “A birthday thing. Simple.”

"For a friend?”

“Yeah.” He pauses — just long enough to be believable. “Someone from staff, actually.”

Your stylist calls again, this time with a little more urgency. You give Joshua one last look — the kind where you’re smiling, but your mind’s already running ahead.

“Right. Cartier for a friend,” you say lightly, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “That’s… new.”

He laughs softly, that same careful, charming sound.

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, watching him a moment longer before you turn away.

Time slips by quickly after that — fittings, photos, the usual small talk with brand staff. By the time you’re finally done, the store’s quiet again. Most of the lights are dimmed; the polished floors gleam faintly in the evening light.

As you’re about to leave, your gaze drifts toward the spot where he’d been standing earlier. The associate from before is still tidying the counter, carefully.

Cartier for a friend, huh?

You exhale softly, tugging your mask higher

“What kind of ‘friend’ gets that kind of gift, Joshua Hong?”